#Midnight Indigo Chair Pad

[vaahomedecor]

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[widowsofchaos]

Poor Little Rich Boy

summary: you find out your boyfriend isn’t all that innocent as he seems.

warnings: yandere behavior, violence, and gore. dub-non con. Ya know the filthy vibes.

Pairing: dark college!Tony Stark x black!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing Tony so be gentle with me <3

do not respost my works!

“I, Howard Anthony Walter Stark, being of sound, mind, and body do hereby declare that this document is my last will and testament. I bestow my legacy in the hands of my only heir, my son, Anthony Edward Stark. All my assets, finances, and chair as CEO of Stark Industries are now in his hands.”

Buzz.

A dull silent vibration shook in the confinement of Tony’s jean pocket, pulling him out of his sullen trance. Instinctively ignoring the notification, as he listened onto the blurred words of the lawyer reading his late father’s will.

Biting his lip to contain his swirling emotions -- aggravation to just collect his inherited earnings, and head home to you.

Buzz.

With a hazy eye-roll, Tony casually sneaked his palm into his pocket, retrieving the phone. As the family lawyer droned on reading, aged eyes glued onto the paper; Tony peaked at the screen, with the quick analysis of face ID -- his pupils dilated like saucers.

His nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, his chest heaving -- he gotta get home immediately. An iron grip onto the phone, he roughly dug it back into his pocket, his foot tapping against the carpeted flooring. Antsy.

God, please make time go faster.

Buzz.

His fingers itched to snatch the cellular device, internally screaming for another peak at the salacious cheeky messages.

Messages from you -- photos of yourself seated on his bedroom floor, in only a high-waisted thong, and his custom tailored blazer.

The creamy beige against your buttery smooth bronze skin was divine, Tony swears anything you wear is pulled off with elegance. Your brown areolas are slipping out just a tad bit from the flaps, a hint of what’s awaiting for him.

His cock hardened against the denim fabric, Tony salivates whenever you wear his clothing, his scent imprinting onto your flesh - of you in compromising positions, your neatly manicured fingers inside your panties, rubbing your swollen nub. Biting your plump bottom lip.

Buzz.

Another picture with a text, you were sipping from a glass, his best Scotch, with the typed words, “I miss you. I know my favorite boy is blue, come back home so I can take care of you.” Signed with a kissy face emoji, and a red heart.

You were leaning on your elbows, your bouncy ass in the air, legs bent upward with your ankles playfully interlocked in the air.

The glass of ale leaning downward against your teasing lips, and sultry eyes through the reflective mirror -- Tony’s cock twitched, oh he’s gonna eat you up when he gets home.

- It was midnight, the full moon shining bright in the inky indigo sky -- beaming upon the Stark manor. The white fluorescent solar satellite glistening upon the grand bedroom where two lovers lay satiated in bed.

Rubbing random circles by the pads of your fingertips on Tony’s sweaty broad chest, taming the beast into a purring feline.

“I love you.” Tony’s mild slurred speech infiltrated the serene silence, your nose scrunched up in glee. “I love you too.” you murmured in his neck, a lazy grin stretched on your face.

For hours, Tony, and yourself haven’t left the bedroom, stringing release after release -- letting Tony pinch, pull your hair, bruise, slap, and choke your soft flesh-- that’s what he loves about you, trusting him wholeheartedly with your body, and soul.

A lot of tears of euphoria, and fear of abandonment. Reassuring Tony that you would never leave him, breathy hymns of I love yous in his ear.

It’s been a couple of difficult few weeks, Howard Stark has passed at the age of 74. A fatal car crash taking his life, leaving behind his only son. It was only freshly five months ago that Tony lost his mother, Maria. Uterine cancer - multiple tumors.

Maria Stark, the matriarch of the family, was the light of Tony’s life. Maria was a saint, even at death’s door, she had a positive perspective. You can still recall her calling her tumors fruit bowls of pain - her tumors were the size of miniature melons; grew from the size of strawberries.

And when she died -- the already fractured relationship of father and son deteriorated to ash. Howard started becoming colder, more stricter on his son -- his disappointment fueling by the second.

Clayed into a modernized Narcissus -- guising his trauma with bloviating chatter to impress the little people. Boasting his youthful genius with no shame.

Tony may have been born from the finest cloth, a silver-spoon wedged in his mouth -- but he oozes the work ethic of a blue-collar joe.

Under the molden gait of a promising demigod is a fragile boy -- yearning for affection. A neglected child desperate for attention.

Sending nudes to your boyfriend while he’s attending his dead father’s will hearing -- many would deem that as distasteful -- tacky, even. But, you knew Tony’s coping mechanisms.

Frat parties, drinking excessively to the brink of oblivion, and copious amounts of sex.

Tony was raised in a household, where any emotional turmoil expressed to his father was shot down, except with his mother -- he needs a womanly touch.

He never saw his conquests as ladies, only whores to get his rocks off, but once he laid eyes on you -- sweet, and bubbly -- that little rich boy was a goner.

Succumbing to a dazed half-slumber, Tony’s cell phone rings at the bedside table -- you groaned at the intrusion. Flashing on the screen was Happy’s goofy grin, one of Tony’s closest friends. You mumbled a ‘of fucking course’, Tony cheekily chuckled at your frustration.

“Don’t worry, sweetcheeks. This won’t take long.” With the wisp of a lingering kiss on your hairline, Tony begrudgingly detached himself from you--proudly strutting his naked bare firm ass, picking up his boxers from the floor shamelessly displaying his hung cock, and balls.

“Nice ass.” you teased. Tony snorted, “Nice? Toots, it’s the finest ass. And you love it.” He winked at you over his shoulder, you giggled. Tony’s footfalls faded down the hall, his conversation blurring into the distance. You laid back down, sighing as you stared up at the ceiling, quickly getting bored.

Without Tony to entertain you, you had nothing to do. Maybe I could get a head start on my thesis? Your eyes languidly rolled to the corner of your lids, staring at your opened crumbled book-bag mocking you at the corner of the room, Fuck that. You grumbled.

Mindlessly deciding to get dressed, and search for substance. Hours of unadulterated love-making can take out a lot of energy.

Nimble quiet feet tip-toe down the stairs, covered in only Tony’s wrinkled white button-down, brown statuesque legs gracefully head to the kitchen -- but you halt in your tracks. A dim light seeps from the crack out of an office -- Howard’s former office.

Curiosity overwhelms you, biting down your tongue, you check your surroundings, making sure Tony is nowhere in sight. Earlier in the day, the office was locked -- why is it now open?

Open-palm press against the door, a tiny creak of the mahogany makes you cringe internally. Stealthy you walk into the office, nothing seems to be out of place. Maybe Tony was in here? Fidgety fingers skim against the polished wooden desk, at the corner of your eye, a mess of papers sit idly by.

You pick the papers up, fastly flicking through it. Statements declaring Tony as the new CEO of Stark Industries, royalties, and -- mechanic blueprints?

Your chest began heaving, breaths still choppy fuming out of your nose, your left eye twitched from the stressing bile rising. Here in your hands are the blueprints of a familiar vehicle -- Howard Stark’s car. Descriptive details on the full functionality of the car, why are these here?

Warm palms clutch your shoulders, soothingly rubbing, you flinch by the surprise, “You weren’t meant to see those.” A hot breath fan against your ear, you whimper, his voice sounded husky, menacingly.

Not daring to look him in the eye, frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots in the flooring, Tony’s grasp on your arms tighten. “The old man was going to take me off the will. I know he was.”

A chaste kiss on your temple, “As if I didn’t take his shit over the years just for nothing. Blaming me for my mother’s death.” He grumbled against your skin, your blood running cold. There was no remorse in his voice, a hint of satisfaction.

This isn’t the Tony you knew.

A beast of his father’s making.

“Tony - I - I won’t tell anyone, I promise--” Tony shushed your stuttering, his rough hands snaking its travel to your waist, slithering his forearms around your torso, ensnaring you.

“I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t. You’re my good girl.” He spoke in your hair, small lingering kisses on your scalp. Tony was rocking your body back and forth, cradling you -- he can sense your fear.

With trepidation, you held his arms, a little shaky. “Tony, let’s just go back to bed.” Your voice was cracking, this isn’t the man you fell in love with, and you wanted to just run away as far as you can.

“You’re scared of me?” Although it was an intended question, its tone came off as a fact. Indeed you were terrified of him.

“No.” You spat too quickly for your liking. Tony gripped your chin, and twisted your head to face him, “I would never hurt you. I love you. Everything I do is for you.” Your breath hitched, his face was morphed into a sad feral puppy.

“I know. I know you do.” You feigned a weak smile, “I just didn’t think --” you stopped yourself before you vomited any other words. “Do what? Kill?” Tony cocked a brow, with a shit-eating grin. “I did it before. For you.” Tears were forming at the brim of his eyes, your doe-eyes widened, you began squirming in his arms. “Tony, what did you do?!” you shrieked, limbs failing.

Tony’s iron-grip didn’t let up, refusing to let you go, “He wasn’t right for you!” Tony bellowed on the top of his lungs, impulsive rage seeping through, fumbling feet colliding.

Both of your bodies falling to the carpeted floor as Tony tried to restrain your wrists, fumbling feet slipping. A miscalculated misstep sent you, and Tony colliding downward.

Tony’s weight pinning you down. Confusion making your head go dizzy, “What do you mean?” You whispered. Tony smashed his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks, “You know what I mean.” His brows furrowed, gently his forehead on yours, his eyes staring into your soul.

Realization hits you like a freight train, flashes of your ex, the cops alerting you of his disappearance, Tony’s lingering shadow always appearing to provide comfort -- “Brock?” a lone tear trickle down your eye, down your temple, and hitting the carpet below. Tony nodded frantically.

Tony’s lips peppered against your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your eye-lids, your nose, your chin; mumbling affection against your tear-stained face.

It’s been three years since Brock vanished, rumors flew around campus from students believing he killed himself in some remote location, you lost him in the first years of university.

You were grief-stricken, but Tony, being the ever-present close friend lend a shoulder -- then soon, it blossomed into much more.

“Now, it's just us. We can start a new dollface.” Tony sniffled, hot tears drip upon your flesh, “We can start our own family” he rasps, “I can be a dad. A better father.” Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

A family? You both were just shy of twenty-one, and already Tony is mapping out your entire futures. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was futile.

Tony murmured nonono to your bodily request of escape, chasing clumsy blubbering kisses against your chavile. Your body began to be wrecked with sobs, your chest heaving.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s better this way.” Tony’s brows were furrowed sorrowfully, his tremor low with ache. “You killed Brock, how could you?! I loved him!” Tony gripped your jaw, painfully his fingers kneading,

“Loved him?! He wasn’t right for you! You need me! I need you! No one is going to love you like I do. I loved you the first day I met you.” Harsh fingers rip off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the elements.

“You’re mine! No one can have you! I will kill anyone who tries to take you away!” Tony’s mouth plunged, fangs nibbling on your nipples, his entire mouth suckling your left breasts.

Tony’s left hand pinching your right nipple, twisting and slapping it roughly. You yelped, shutting your eyes closed. Your skin crawled, Tony’s brown eyes peered at you, dissatisfied that you refuse to look at him.

A sloppy pop echoed, “Look at me!” he slapped you, the crack of it pounding in your ears, the heat of the sting scorched throughout your cheek. Your eyes popped open, watery from the hit, Tony has never once laid a hand on you -- until now.

Nose to nose, “We’re gonna be a family--” one of his hands traveled down to tug down his boxers, his hard swollen cock is man-handled in his palm, you struggled to get away, but Tony clutched your wrists in one hand, and pinned it on the carpet.

Tony spit on your cunt, rubbing it within your velvety folds by the base of his veiny cock, earning a hiss out of you. “You’re going to look so hot swollen with our baby.” Your thighs twitched, Tony roughly forced your thigh to wrap around his torso, positioning himself.

“Please - Tony, please don’t”, you cried, Tony shushed you. Lining himself to your hole, with no hesitation, plunged his cock inside your pussy. You screamed, your back arching, “Feels lovely, right? Feels so fucking delicious - you were made for me.” Tony snarled, biting your chin, his tongue trailing your jawline, pistoning his cock inside you.

Dripping slick smears against your thighs, clenching onto his cock, a broken groan slips from Tony’s lips, “Fuck - yes, do that again.” You were blubbering tears down your cheeks, the inevitable pleasure Tony strings out of you is undeniable.

“You’re so tight, and warm.” He growled in your ear, “I can’t wait to have a baby with you. You all swollen, waddling around with bare-feet. You’ll be a great mother - just like mine.” He whispered, biting on your lobe.

You murmured muffled whines in the crock of his neck, bruising is slowly forming on your hips, fucking you like it’s the last time. Shivers run down Tony’s spine, time slows down.

Sweaty skin slapping against skin spurred him on, taking all of you. Your nails scratch at his palm, still bounding you down.

“I love you.” He whimpered, you bite your lip, refusing to sink into the instinct of saying it back. Tony perked his head up from your neck, growling, “Say it back!” he thrusted his pelvis against you, a cattle wail hit you, “Say -” thrust “it-” another thrust “-back!” his smile falters slow, a bruising touch.

He can see you slowly yielding, small pants of electric euphoria, “No!” you bite back.

Wet lips slant against yours. Your entire body jolting from his unforgiving pace, your back burning slightly from the rug beneath you.

Releasing your wrists, his rough hand find it’s way to your back, hiking you up, squeezing your ass in his fingers, bucking your hips; fucking you onto him, your nails dig into his sculpted back -- scratching for him to stop, but it felt too good.

You’ve become dizzy. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, hoping the pain makes him halt his actions, but it makes him harden inside of you.

There’s no space between you, melting into one, the friction, the heat; the tethers of reality blur into nothing.

“Please - say you love me.” Tony pleaded, his weary eyes sinking into yours. A robbery -- a heart-wrenching robbery of your soul, in an instant, you didn’t see a cold-blooded killer, but the mire of a lost boy.

He slowed down his thrusts, leisure movements, his brown orbs are glossy, “Say it, please.” Tony gently kisses you, not feverish, but you can taste the sweet commitment. Like he doesn’t own you, but he worships you.

“I love you.” you mumbled against his swollen lips, his eyes dilated, rubbing his nose against yours, “I love you” maneuvering your hips, squelching can be heard - sticky as honey, as the pace picked up.

Your fingers grip his soft fluffy hair, his balls slapping against your ass, “I love you, Tony.” You sucked on his bottom lip. He whimpered. His cock was coated in your juices, you can feel the swelling of his balls, and his uneven jerking movements -- he was close.

“Cum for me, baby.” Tony’s eyes were shut, he mewled, “Cum inside me, give me a baby, Tony.” The dam breaks. The window bursts open from a gust of wind, the full moon gleamed upon your sweaty sheen bodies, a howl erupts from Tony -- as the wolf within has been unhinged -- primal, feral fueled lust.

Toothy grin, all fangs lunged for your pulse point, devouring you. Squirted juices spray from you, splashing against his toned stomach, not once stopping, riding through the orgasm. Tony’s tongue peaked out, droplets of your cum sprinkling his mouth.

Your vision turns white, an inhuman scream leaves you, Tony collapses onto you.

He’s trembling, frightened, you massage his dome, “My sweet boy.” Tony sobs into your chest, ensnaring himself around your torso. You hugged him, cradling like a baby, as he cried water-falls.

“It’s okay.” You kiss his head, a lingering one, “It’s going to be alright.”

You’re all he has.

[silentfangirlwritings]

02 - cherry diners

two friends escape from studying for the night 

pairings: unnamed - (zion kuwonu & reader, same as indigo elevators)

word count: 2.9k

~~~

the chill that had been hovering over the city for the last week had finally fallen. evidence of a mythical creature coated every blade of grass and every window panes in the neighbourhood. it was getting cold again and the thrill of summer had vanished in his mind.

it had been a good summer. a great one. the days were always long and filled with laughter and memories he could fill notebooks with. the nights were spent surrounded by friends and getting into mischief that he’d one day treasure. late night swims and public drinking only happened in the summer, the rest could be year-round occurrences. but those late night swims were what he spent the most time pondering.

his pen tapped against the hardwood of his desk and his gaze turned to his beige wall. his mind was far from the science he was supposed to be studying. his mind was far from schoolwork entirely. he could almost feel the sand beneath his feet, almost taste the sea spray on his lips. would these be the midnight memories he’d miss the most?

he released a long held breath and lowered his gaze to the paper before him. this was the final chapter he needed to get done and then he’d be finished for the night. he was only one page in but reminding himself it was the last of it was the only thing keeping him going. the red led lights of his alarm clock flashed as a warning. he put his head down.

all of ten minutes passed and he had his head tilted up to the ceiling. an exasperated groan departed his lungs and he swore under his breath. he wanted something else to do. no. needed something else to do. but he was tied to his chair and his phone locked away in another room. he was stuck there.

another ten minutes and he had his forehead pressed to the desk. his lips moved as if he were talking but nothing came out. he stayed like that and let time tick by until he was satisfied. when he lifted his head, his eyes found a design fingered into the frost that covered the outside of his window.

he smiled his charming smile and bolted out of his chair, the ties suddenly broken. he crossed the room in a split second and pulled his window up. the icy breeze circled his room and nipped at his nose but he didn’t care. he just wanted to see where she was. just wanted to see her face.

she popped up after a moment of him looking and flashed him her pearly whites. her breath was just visible in the icy air of the evening. her cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosey and her eyes glossy. he had no idea how long she’d been outside for but he knew it was more than a few minutes.

“are you just going to stare at me or am i allowed in?”

she giggled as he stepped aside to let her climb in. he hushed her and she nodded her head. this wasn’t the first time she’d climbed in his window and probably wouldn’t be the last. ever since she got her driver’s license the month before it had almost become routine.  

“why are you here?”

his voice was low to not attract the attention of his mother or younger brother. they were close enough to hear if they spoke at their normal volume but he’d found the perfect tone and volume. she mirrored it perfectly.

“you haven’t replied to my texts in four hours. i had to make sure you were still alive.”

he smiled again. he smiled a lot around her.

she walked to his desk, her footsteps almost silent, and looked over his notes. her index finger dragged over his boyish handwriting with her eyebrows furrowed together. he awaited the brazen remark about his scripture but it never came.

“you’re basically done.”

she took a yellow sticky note from the pad and stuck it to the side of his science book. he watched her pick up his pen and write something on it. he tried to take a step closer to see what she was writing but she waved him off. when she was done, she closed the book and walked to his wardrobe.

“i’m not done though.”

he protested a few beats too late. she was the distraction, the escape he’d been praying for.  but the scholar in her wouldn’t be so impressed if he didn’t at least pretend to care that he was abandoning his studies. she didn’t pay him much mind, just offered him his favourite hoodie.

“i don’t get my phone until i’m finished.”

she didn’t react to his words but walked back to his desk. she found a spare sheet of paper under his books and again picked up his pen. he put his hoodie and shoes on while she wrote. she showed it to him when she was done and he snuffed a laugh.

“you’re lucky my mom likes you.”

she winked at him and he smiled. he couldn’t help but smile. 

“cmon then, we don’t have all night.”

she was out the window before he could ask where they were going. he followed after her and made sure his window was open just enough for him to get back in but not too much that his room would turn into a freezer. he grinned one last time at her drawing before chasing after her. she was always walking too fast.

she’d parked a few houses down from his place. he knew it was because his mom knew her car and if she saw it, she’d know her son was no longer under her roof. she was careful like that. she took notice of things that he wouldn’t usually. it made him feel safe in her presence. it also meant if he ever thought of doing something illegal, he wanted her with him. 

her car was much like you’d expect for a 16 year old who had only just gotten her license. it was, in the kindest way, a load of heap. it needed a new paint job, had several dents from its previous owner and its breaks were incredibly squeaky. but she, because all cars are female, was perfect in her eyes. she hadn’t fully set on a name yet, but she’d been consistently calling her pumpkin for a week and a half. 

the radio, though in tack, was rough around the edges. static wasn’t uncommon and though she got local stations, there was never anything that either of them truly loved playing. the solution was often impromptu acapella karaoke parties while she drove them to wherever it was they needed to be. but that night was different. instead of singing one direction’s discography at the top of their lungs, they sat in a comfortable silence.

“where are we going?”

she shook her head and offered him a smile. she wasn’t going to tell him. she liked taking him on little adventures, keeping things a secret. it was how they found their spot. it was why they were such good friends. 

“you haven’t eaten, have you?”

he shook his head no and she grinned.

“good.”

he fell a step or two behind her as she led the way. he hadn’t been around this area in a long time and the establishment they were approaching had not been there before. it looked new or as new as a retro-themed diner could be. there was a decent amount of people gathered and eating. she found a booth off to the corner and picked up a menu from the countertop.

“nothing says retro like cherry red booths.”

he chuckled to himself and she opened the menu. they sat across from one another her legs pulled up under her while he spread himself. they were comfortable. the last place they’d gone to eat had terrible seats. the whole time they were there, they were switching their positions and complaining about sore butts. 

the smell of fresh coffee and maple syrup was like a warm hug. it was familiar in a way that most diners or cafes were but it felt different here. here, it felt airly like home to him. though maybe that had more to do with the girl sitting across the table from him. he let his eyes drag over her face slowly as she inspected the menu. he spent more time on her lips than any other feature. he wished to trace them with his thumb and if he were ever given a pencil and asked to draw her, he knew he’d get her lips perfect.

when her eyes lifted from the menu and met his, he quickly went to pluck the menu from her hands. she somehow anticipated his actions and moved it away before he could even touch it. he shouldn’t have been surprised but he was only trying to cover up his staring. 

“i’m choosing what we’re eating tonight.”

 the smile she gave him suggested she was up to something, her eyes lowered slightly. she was the best holder of secrets he’d ever met. it seemed he was the only one ever able to read her like a book.

a waitress interrupted his train of thought. he pulled himself to sit straight and turned his head to smile. she was an older woman, closer to his grandmother's age than his moms. she returned his smile and switched between the two of them, waiting for one of the teenagers to speak.

he wondered what she thought of them. did she see them as a couple? or were they obviously only friends? could she feel the tug-of-war between them? did she know he wanted more than she would even think to let him have? the thought was so enticing, he almost didn’t catch what she was ordering. just because his eyes were trained to her didn’t mean he was paying attention to what she was saying.

she moved in slow motion. her eyes following her index finger of her right hand as it danced down the menu. her head was tilted up, her jaw protruding and her neck exposed. her lips fell open in a perfect pout, her rosy lip tint so subtle and perfect for her brown skin. the corners of her mouth pulled back into a smile and she turned to face him.

“are you two kids here on a date?”

the thoughts that were so often flying around his head landed at her words. his neck burned and his throat tightened. he tried to push out an answer, shake off the words she’d said and set the record straight but it all got caught. it seems it wasn’t just her who got him flustered, but waitresses in their late 50’s too.

“yes.”

her answer threw him off as did the hand that reached across the table to rest upon his own. she threw him a wink and he gulped. his stomach was so tight and his neck was so, so hot. she wanted him to play along. he needed to speak with no such stutter. this was where they had fun. this was where they soared.

“i still can’t believe it’s been six whole months since we rekindled.”

he spoke in a believable tone of desire and blind excitement. he smiled at her convincingly too but that was easy. he didn’t have to pretend she was a dream. she returned the same smile, her head tilted to the right as her eyes glazed over. it was love. he wouldn’t think twice.

“it would’ve been our one year.”

she added as he raised her hand to press a delicate kiss to her knuckles. a jolt of electricity shot through him when his lips touched her skin. 

“had we not slept with each other's best friend, that is.”

she turned her gaze back to the waitress and smiled that brilliant smile. he had to bite back a laugh at the look on her face. my, it was priceless. he almost felt sorry. she looked horrified, but only for a second. she pulled a smile onto her painted red lips and her eyebrows fell when she took the menu from their table.

once she had stepped away, both of them fell into giggles. he let go of her hand and watched as she drew it back to rest on top of her left hand. unconsciously, her thumb ran over her knuckles where his lips had just touched. the calm sense they’d both kept while playing a part had left and both their cheeks were flushed pink.

“what did you order?”

he’d missed what she’d ordered completely. she didn’t look too impressed, maybe a little amused. especially with the smile that was resting on her lips. she was going to make fun of him, he was just waiting for it. 

“the cherry booths too loud for you?”

she teased and her eyes turned to the seats. they were very loud, he couldn’t deny it. but he wasn’t going to confess overwise.

“just a tad.”

he made a gesture with his index and thumb and she grinned.

“pancakes and waffles.”

the answer to his question made him smirk.

she liked the idea of breakfast for dinner. always had. the first time he’d had dinner with her family, he was served a plate of chocolate chip pancakes with butter and maple syrup. he’d laughed and thanked her parents but questioned her a little. since then, they did it fairly regularly. it was nice, something out of the ordinary for him.

“i should’ve guessed. i know you way too well.”

she smiled. he really liked it when she smiled.

“you do know me too well.”

it was true and he almost laughed. 

he’d never really thought about it before. well, maybe not as in depth as he did while they were eating. they’d been friends for a while, years actually. he could barely remember a time when she wasn’t by his side. or a time when she hadn’t made his day brighter, his night sweeter or his life better. she was, without a doubt, his best friend. he wasn’t sure he’d ever thought that before.

“i think you’re my best friend.”

they were on the way back to his house. the sun was just shy of disappearing, only a few strands of orange and red visible on the horizon. it lit his skin golden and brought out the lighter tones of his brown eyes. he barely noticed her take a picture of him.

“aye, no phone while you’re driving.”

he made a grab for her phone and she moved her hand but not fast enough. she groaned and tried to reached for it but he slapped the top of her hand. 

“and two hands on the steering wheel, cmon now.”

he could basically hear her roll her eyes. it made him snort. he was never the one to point out the right thing to do. he liked the roles being reversed. he understood why she was the one always warning people. it could be fun.

“i think you’re my best friend too.”

she replied after a few moments of silence, two hands on the wheel at two and ten. he grinned at her statement but turned his head, he didn’t want her to see his reaction. he stayed looking out the window for the rest of the drive home. he was beginning to feel mundane the closer they got.

he plopped down in his office chair right as the last sliver of daylight disappeared into the ground. he flicked his office lamp on and scanned over his science book, dreading opening it once again. but he smiled when he flicked it open to the page he’d left off at. 

on the sticky note that marked his place, she’d drawn a doddlebob with a plate of waffles in hand. she really knew how to make him smile, and the good kind of smile. the ones that reach your heart and soul. he was so damn lucky to have her in his life and he knew it. he knew it didn’t get much better than her, that she was a one-in-a-million. even at his age he knew that people like her didn’t come round so often. 

so, he was happy. so, so happy that he almost didn’t mind getting back to studying. in fact, he put his head down and worked with ease. no distractions, no thoughts other than those about the work in front of him. he was back on focus and almost enjoying it. 

“there’s dinner downstairs when you’re finished.”

his mom had come into his room and smiled when she’d seen him sitting at his desk still. she rested her hands on his shoulders and kissed the top of his head.

“thanks momma. i could eat after all this.”

she didn’t say anything else just began to leave his room, picking up an empty plate as she went. he was sure he was fine, that his lie had passed her radar. he’d have to try and eat some of her food, even though he was completely stuffed. 

“how was the food at cherry’s? i was thinking it’d be nice for us to all go.”

“it was-”

he started but stood up quickly, turning to look at his mom. she smiled at him and winked before walking out of his room, pulling the door closed behind her. he was in a bit of disbelief and snorted. it was really only her his mother would excuse his sneaking off for. he didn’t know why but his mom loved her as if she were her own.

[nomadthor]

SNAKE CHARMER STORY SYNOPSIS: ON A MISSION STEVE AND BUCKY STUMBLE ON SOMEONE THAT WOULD CHANGE BOTH OF THEIR LIVES DRAMATICALLY. OC X BUCKY

SNAKE CHARMER — CHAPTER 2: CAUSE FOR CONCERN WORD COUNT: 3,452 CHAPTER: 2/?

Monotone buzzing drilled through her ears as she eventually fell back into consciousness, and vision hazed as she slowly blinked away the blurriness. She became aware of her surroundings: the overhead light gleamingly bleaching its already bright surroundings. White padded walls and floor made up the tiny room excluding one wall which was a one-way mirror where a group of astute SHIELD operatives was sat behind. The petite girl didn’t budge from her fetal position as she sat with her back against the wall, arms tightly folded across her legs as she desperately tried to keep every inch of her body as close as humanly possible. Gently cascading down the loose-fitting ivory jumpsuit she’d been supplied with, her dishevelled sable hair stuck out like a sore thumb against the washed-out surroundings.

Ever so slightly, the heavy door to the dim observation room creaked as Bucky and Steve tiptoed their way in as they found empty office chairs to seat themselves in. Maria Hill rotated her head towards the boys knowing what they were there for considering they’ve been interrupting for the past half a day for any updates at all, primarily on Bucky’s request. “She’s finally awake,” she offered a meagre smile as she softly announced the news whilst reclining in her seat with a hot coffee in hand. It definitely wasn’t the answer that they were hoping for but it was something new. The blond super soldier glanced over to his best friend anticipating a response afore the room fell under a stymied silence, all that could be heard was the soft rasp of the chairs as people adjusted their seating position and the subtle humming of the air conditioning above their heads. Bucky didn’t offer a response, he just looked over the director's shoulder through the mirror with glassy eyes and a sincere frown. “Do you have any information on her yet?” He queried with a sombre tone, catching a glimpse of Steve who did nothing but stare at him with a perturbed lour.

The brunette exhaled deeply, peering at the files in front of her which was simply a pile of uncrinkled paper due to the fact it had barely been updated or touched, “all we know is that she has American citizenship.” Maria exhaled, slightly chided and displeased due to the fact that after all this time this is the only knowledge they had. “Then what was she doing in Norway?” Bucky accidentally muttered out, to himself for the most part but it was loud enough for everyone else to listen. Maria weakly shrugged her shoulders as she took a delicate sip of her coffee, hissing from how hot it was. That’s when the atmosphere fell stagnant once more as nobody had anything of importance to offer, it lingered for a while before Steve firmly tapped Bucky’s shoulder, sympathetically and faintly commanding him to leave them alone for now. A despondent and defeated look fell on his face whilst forced a nod, acknowledging that Steve was right. Bucky left his seat feeling shamed and hesitantly followed his buddy out of the room.

Gradually the hefty metal office door shut with a thud as the pair loitered just outside. “Why are you so worked up about her?” Steved asked out of genuine curiosity with a furrowed brow and unfeigned concern on his face, standing with his arms folded over his chest which was hidden by a large roomy pewter-coloured fisherman knit sweater. “What’s different?” He persisted when Bucky remained tight-lipped. Bucky shrugged but not out of uncertainty but for the fact he didn’t want to be derided by his friend. As a matter of fact, he felt kind of stupid. “Don’t worry about it,” he regretfully stated, planting his hands in his pockets of the same trousers he was wearing just the day before as he began to wander off down the corridor. Steve trailed his footsteps like a loyal puppy.“Bucky I trust your intuition, I always have,” he admitted as they continued to walk down the minimalistic corridor which had huge contemporary windows that lined the walls; the rain gently pattering on the glass.

The hallway fell under a delicate indigo hue on account of the midnight sky. They took a few more steps prior to Barnes slowly and hesitantly halted, swivelling on his heels. He bit at his sore and chapped lips for a brief moment as he tried to thoroughly think out what he was going to say in an attempt to sound serious and not delusional.“Every time we do a mission like this, they’re not good people,” he began to trail off prior to Steve urged him to continue. “I don’t know, Steve, the way she was sat there she looked hurt. She looked like she'd been kidnapped. She looked like she needed help, y’know. It kind of reminded me when.” Steve stopped him from continuing the sentence, holding his hand up and softly shaking his head knowing what else was about to come out of his friend’s mouth. Bucky seemed helpless and just stood staring at Steve doe-eyed as a sour and mournful expression stained his face. Steve looked grave, a firm lip and his eyes strained, it was obvious he was concerned about the Jane Doe in the padded cell but seeing his best friend so anxious made his heart ache. Especially when he knew they had little to no say about what happened from here on out. “Maybe you should hit the hay,” Steve suggested as he noticed the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes were a lot more bruised than what they were earlier.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not. But you should really get some sleep, I’m starting to get concerned, pal.” He glanced down to Bucky’s unwashed clothes, “and put something comfy on, you��ve been wearing those darn things before we even got here.” Steve jested in an attempt to lighten the mood as he smiled at his doleful friend.  A hesitant smirk surprisingly made an appearance on Bucky’s face as he pulled his friend into a hug, holding him tighter than he ever had before.“Oh, and maybe a shower too,” Steve teased as he pulled back resulting in a soft punch directly to Rogers' shoulder from Bucky, followed by a huge grin.

They said their goodnights and they parted ways, stepping out of the huge glass office doors of the building and into the crisp night air. Rain droplets dampened Bucky’s hair that was hurriedly tied into a loose ponytail. His boots splashing in the tiny puddles that littered the tenebrous tarmacked outdoor parking lot which was enclosed by daily tended to tree planters and a densely wired fence. Since the Triskelion was so cut off from the rest of the teeming animation that is New York City, it was refreshing to step out into the open air and ears not instantly be harassed by the intrusive honking of horns accompanied with the loud and obtrusive conversations anyone with a sane mind would try to ignore. He sauntered across the lot towards his motorcycle which was engulfed beneath a pumpkin orange glow from the overhead lights that just about made the silhouette of his vehicle visible, it being one of the few vehicles left he wasn't left second-guessing whether he'd approached the right bike. He gathered his helmet from the top box and firmly planted it on his dampened head, slightly squashing the ponytail as he did so. Steve backed out of his parking space and shot a quick wave to his buddy preceding the gentle rolling towards the electric security gates and vanishing into the frigid night. Bucky soon followed suit.

After a sedate and somewhat peaceful ride, he tiredly stumbled into his dark apartment, flicking the light switch upon entry. He was extremely tempted to throw himself on his couch and just pass out from exhaustion but he decided against it and ran himself a scorching bath. It was one of his pleasures that he'd try to add into his daily ritual as much as possible as a suggestion on his therapist's behalf. As he ambled through his apartment, the floorboards that creaked were amplified due to the quietude of the night causing him to blench in hopes that his grouchy downstairs neighbours wouldn’t complain like they always did whenever he would do as much as just walk through his home. Not later than the bath reached the point of overflowing, Bucky turned off the taps. He was already sweating from the steam permeating through the air. He left his metal arm on his bedsheets beside his fresh sweat pants and t-shirt he planned on wearing once he cleaned himself prior to completely stripping and sliding into the boiling, soapy tub. He gasped out of satisfaction as he submerged himself beneath the bubbly water. Every single muscle in his body that was previously aching was now throbbing out of pure relief. It was a dull ache but one he enjoyed nonetheless. Bucky was scared of the blackness that would shroud him when he would always close his eyes.

For the majority, closing one's eyes is meant to be a form of escapism - you close your eyes when you don't want to see something. However, it was contradictory for him. Whenever he closed his eyes the gutwrenching sickening feelings would emerge from the darkness and deepest parts of his mind and provoke him, tormenting him beyond the point of sanity. He was afraid and often would become inconsolable. Despite this, he shut his eyes and sank fully submerged himself beneath the sweltering water in an attempt to allow the uncomfortable prickling of the heated water to distract his mind, and it worked for a while. It wasn't long before he resurfaced, throwing his head back with a throaty grunt. Face cerise and rather sore, he let the tub nestle into the curve of his neck as he relaxed back taking deep breaths which filled his lungs with the humid, steamy air. Despite the unrelenting urge to reopen his eyes, they were firmly shut. Faint and vague swirls of different colours materialized from the gloom and the wearisome irritation of his eyes finally got the better of him. Needless to say, the mindfulness and the tranquillity of his brain did not last long. 

Single fragments of his past hurtled back at terrifying speeds and replayed in his mind similarly to if a record got stuck. He felt like a prisoner in his own head and reliving the memories was his form of mental torture and anguish. Albeit being an involuntary and detested part of his daily life, he heard screams of which were not his own. A woman, agonizingly screeching with a hoarse growl. It was bloodcurdling and nauseating to even begin to imagine what she was going through. Her face made a swift appearance before everything became too mentally exhausting and overwhelming.Quicker than one could blink, his eyes shot open and his body flailed in one swift motion as he awoke. Water from the now moderately cold bath had now been propelled all over the tile floor. His chest heaved desperately as he attempted to steady his breath out of sheer panic, though he was so focused on his respiration that he hadn’t even realised that the power had gone out and everything was enveloped in darkness. The only thing lighting his apartment was the moonlight peering through his windows which was ever so slightly concealed by his slatted blinds. Slowly but surely, Bucky managed to drag himself from the uncomfortable water and stumbled around in the shadows to find a towel, promptly wrapping it around his wettened skin.

Chilly droplets descended from Bucky’s water-logged hair and slid down his back, sending shivers down his spine as he traipsed to his bedroom where he hurriedly got changed. Although his apartment was for the most part barren, he did have most of the essential furniture; luckily enough one of his cabinets was home to some candles that he had laying around. A few scented, some just plain. He rummaged through the alder cupboards, pushing lofty piles of documents and paper, books, and boxes of trinkets aside to get to what he was looking for. He briskly lit a few of the candles with a match and lay them around his room because as much as he hated to admit it, the dark scared him. Evermore now that he’d frequently get haunting nightmares. He tucked himself beneath his cotton sheets and eventually fell back to sleep.

What felt like seconds but was only a few hours later, he awoke to the smell of burnt wick which momentarily panicked him before his eyes darted around his room and confirmed nothing had caught ablaze during the night. He felt groggy, swiping at his eyes, yawning and clambering out of his mattress completely calmed by the sound of birds tweeting as they perched on his windowsill. Taking his time, Bucky got ready and made a tea before heading back to the building he was just at only hours prior. It would be a complete fabrication if Bucky said she wasn't the last thing he thought of prior to closing his eyes, and was the first thing he thought of when he opened them. Completely succumbed to guilt and culpability due to the fact he couldn't intervene sooner, the ride to the facility had his stomach churning with anxiety and anticipation.

The fairly short journey he had yesterday now felt long and onerous. Bucky's broken hands twitched as he gripped the handlebars.In no time, the sound of the receptionist greeting the man, the clattering of keychains against various employees that would stride through the lobby, indistinct and distant chatter, it was unusually satisfactory. His eyes naturally drifted over towards the rather large monument that was the chrome SHIELD logo that overlooked the modern foyer. "Was expecting you to arrive a bit earlier I'm gonna be honest," Steve jested as he meandered towards the rugged gentleman, "but you're looking better," he admitted with his signature half-smirk. The two men stood out amongst the crowd of employees who were wearing debonair and unsullied suits as they were wearing considerably much casual attire. "I've actually got something to show you," Steve motioned as they headed towards the escalator, their shoes distinctively clicking against the polished and well-maintained brit stone floor.

To Bucky, it felt like Steve was leading him through a maze and was astonished that anyone would ever remember their way around the facility. The pair eventually turned down a quieter corridor but equally as sumptuous as the rest of the building, and found an empty meeting room and locked the door. The striking skyline was the first thing they were greeted with as the entire back wall was made out of glass: acres of green which were dappled with large concrete office buildings on the horizon were gleaming gold from the early morning sun. In contrast to the lighter walls, the office table and chairs were a harsh obsidian black although they still adhered to the charming yet insipid minimalistic theme. A brown folder with the words PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL printed on it in red ink slid from Steve's hands and along the table, a soft smack as it hit the surface. "You shouldn't be looking at this but I pulled a few strings," he smiled once more as he watched Bucky's eyes enlarge out of a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, "so you owe me one, pal."

Bucky reached forward, pulling the folder with his extended fingers so it sat perfectly in front of him. To say he was anxious to open it was an understatement yet he was filled with so much hunger for comprehension of the situation, he was hoping for answers. He flipped the tab, revealing an extensive profile of the young woman he saw yesterday. He skimmed through as he gradually felt his stomach sink. "Neve Douglas, who also goes by the code name Echis, member of the Serpent Squad." Steve summarised as he pulled back one of the sleek chairs and seated himself. The room fell silent as Bucky redirected his gaze to Steve who was staring at his pal in a sorry manner, "I know this isn't what you thought, but it's for the better. You don't have to worry anymore."

Bucky hesitantly nodded as he looked back at the documents and thoroughly read through each sentence. As much as they weren't the answers he was expecting he knew Steve was correct, but there was a profound itch at the back of his brain that despite all of the information that was displayed in front of him, a tiny portion of him thought otherwise. "I saw her in my dream last night." Bucky softly announced, finally and delicately shutting the folder and pushing it towards Steve. "Uh, you know those nightmares I get," Steve nodded in acknowledgement, "I heard her screams," Bucky stated as the forlorn expression returned to Steve's face. A gentle sigh exited Steve's lips as he leisurely grasped the folder and leaned his back into the chair, "the information's right there Buck. I know you're constantly at war with your brain," he grimaced slightly, "but there's nothing to worry about. You need to focus on yourself pal. Take a break, I don't think that mission's done ya any good."

He stayed a while longer, catching up with Steve who attempted to lift his spirits. Afterwards, he strolled through the courtyard as he practised his introspective nature and reflected for a few hours before he reached a calm and headed out towards the city where he shopped for fresh fruit and vegetables. Bucky grabbed a bite of brunch: A freshly baked blueberry muffin with a strawberry lemonade which he grabbed from a small boho cafe just off Greenwich Avenue. Taking this time out of his day to just relax and review himself, he'd realised how much he'd worked himself up and gotten frustrated over nothing. He didn't beat himself up about it nonetheless, he rounded up his outing and decided to head home.

The sirens which were wailing were soon hushed as the doors to the apartment stairwell shut with a thud and a strident creak. He nonchalantly climbed the steps; his plastic bag of fresh groceries rustling against his leg, each step hitting the icy concrete steps with a thud that echoed through the barren and dingy flight of stairs. Every day he'd have to squeeze past someone loitering amongst the stairs whilst they smoked a cigarette or drank and today was no exception. As he reached his floor he pulled out his keys and looked up to see someone stood at his door, banging with all their might. Upon further inspection, he noticed it was his elder downstairs neighbour. With the energy she was using it wouldn't be a complete shock if she ceased and perished right in front of him due to exhaustion. "Can I help you?" Bucky curiously asked with a furrowed brow, the petite senior lady recoiled out of surprise as she swivelled on the spot and let out an exasperated sigh. "I've been trying to do my crosswords this afternoon but I can't because whoever you've got in there will not stop stomping around!" She exclaimed with a thick and moderately sonorous Brooklyn accent, her silvery grey hair bouncing as she angrily shook. His eyes shifted between the short woman and his door several times before a frown eventually landed on his lips. "I'm sorry," Bucky uttered out plainly despite wanting to say a lot more however he was taught to respect his elders. "You're no better either always waking up my pissin' cat! Get some manners will ya," She retorted with a glower and hobbling past Bucky's tall stature and steadily descending the stairs.

Bucky stared at his door for a few seconds wondering who was making all the racket that was abhorred by his neighbours, but he shook his head and fumbled with the keys as he stood and attempted to unlock the dilapidated and stained door and was curious as to what Steve was doing. After all, he was the only other person with keys that had access to his apartment. The lock clicked finally after very aggressive twisting and pushing to get it to turn, Bucky thrust the door open prior to him being greeted by his whole apartment being upturned. Reluctantly he stepped in and observed the mess; cupboard doors opened and packets of food strewn across the tiled kitchen floor, mattress aggressively ripped from the bed and bedsheets inspected. Everything out of place and tarnished. MASTERLIST

[snowbellewells]

“Oh Night Divine”

(A CS Secret Santa 2017 gift)

This is my slightly belated CS Secret Santa gift for the lovely and kindly patient @princesswan.  Thank you, my new friend, for understanding out-of-town family and sickness constraints, and I hope you will still thoroughly enjoy this holiday fluff.  It’s a future one-shot, canon divergent, but one could easily imagine it having happened sometime between where season six left off and where season seven began with Henry heading out on his own. The only thing truly AU about it is that Emma and Killian have had a little girl seemingly much sooner than they did in the show’s timeline.  Enjoy the Christmas fluff!  Hope your holiday was a wonderful, peaceful one and that your New Year is blessed and full of joy.

“Oh Night Divine”

By: snowbellewells

           The deep night’s watch was still and silent in the chill, frosty air of Maine as Killian Jones – mostly retired pirate captain, part-time deputy and harbormaster of Storybrooke – padded in sock feet and flannel pajama pants (an article of clothing he had gained quite an affinity for in the past handful of years) down the stairs of his family’s home.  Certainly the sleeping house, his Savior wife wheezing the teeniest of adorable snores upstairs in the bed they shared, and the now-soothed infant daughter once more dozing in his careful arms, were all peaceful, and the darkness broken just slightly by blue lights that wash over the living room from their Christmas tree placed proudly in the front window, guiding his steps enough to safely make his shuffling way toward the screened-in back porch, his favorite part of the house.

           Just as his long sailor’s instinct had surmised, Killian found the indigo sky above them dazzling with a vast array of bright stars.  Humming an oft-remembered shanty he had heard on his beloved older brother’s tongue of many a similar dark night in the hold of a ship long ago when the dark wrapped around his child self in a much more sinister way, and Liam’s wiry arm had tucked against his side and his calloused fingers siftied through Killian’s dark, wispy hair as he lightly breathed the words he barely remembered their mama, Alice, singing to put them to sleep at night. The whole refrain was lost to his memory ages ago, but strains of it sometimes came to him as he sought out his deepest memories – in echoes of the voices he loved most, all he’d had to love in the world until a green-eyed Savior, her son and family, crashed into his life like a tidal wave, taking him over with a power that couldn’t be held back. It had been a wild, challenging, unbelievable journey from that first glimpse of his lost princess wife’s mistrustful face glaring at him over the smoking wreckage of an Enchanted Forest refugee camp, to where he now stood barefoot on the wooden porch floor, holding their infant daughter, the product of their own True Love, in his arms. Yet, as Killian mused over it, slight up curved tilt to his strong, full lips as he husked the last few notes of the lullaby against soft, downy wisps of dark hair at the crown of his daughter’s head and bounced slightly at the snuffled grunts she made against his shoulder, not sure if she wanted to fuss more or not, every inch he had fought for as he climbed over the walls around his Emma’s heart, had been worth it to bring him here.

           Deftly catching up an afghan made specifically for them as a first anniversary gift from Granny Lucas herself, Killian looped it over his stump and lifted it from the back of an old rocking chair to drape it over his other shoulder, arm, and the infant cradled within its grasp.  Unfazed, his sleepy daughter huffed slight gusts of warm baby breath against his bare chest, where she was snuggled, calming from the tears she had woken in when he’d gotten her from the nursery some minutes before.  Though she clearly enjoyed the warmth and security offered by the skin-to-skin contact with her sturdy, doting papa, Killian could not fathom that she gained more from these pure and priceless moments in the peaceful stillness on quiet nights than he did.

           Stroking a gentle brush of his blunted wrist over her shoulder as she nuzzled in a bit more comfortably, he watched her eyelids flutter sleepily and a soft yawn stretch her little mouth momentarily wide. Killian stepped quietly over to where they could both look out on the pristine white lawn running all the way to the iced-over, rocky shoreline where the back of their property met the bay, glowing under the moon in a perfect Maine winter’s night.  His Morgan Ruth blinked once again, her green eyes - every bit as beguiling as her mother’s – opened to stare amazedly at the scene stretched out before them.  Chuckling lightly in the back of his throat, Killian readjusted his grip as she sat forward curiously, gazing over all the blanketed white where usually there was grey and green, so that her back was now facing him, and she could really take in the nighttime landscape.  “That’s right, my bonny wee lass.  A Christmas Eve snow…many believe it lucky,” he murmured to her low and easy, a warm undercurrent to their quiet vigil, mere soothing sound to young Morgan Ruth Jones, but he was unable to stop the flow of words he had for her, and the overwhelming flood of pride and love he could never have imagined experiencing for himself – that of a father for a child of his own.

           As they stood before the large bank of windows, and he whispered lilting nonsense to her of the brightest stars on the midnight canvas of the sky and pointed out for her enjoyment the lighted angel on the top of Marco’s woodshop and the lights on the dock festooned to warn unfamiliar ships of the harbor’s edge, he couldn’t help marveling at the fact that he stood peacefully, the seething anger and revenge that had dogged him for centuries finally still, in the home he shared with his True Love and stepson, and the precious child in his arms. Bending his head once more to press a gentle kiss to Morgan’s head, it was easy to marvel at how far he had voyaged from the black-hearted villain he had let himself become to the man of honor he was once again, and the gift that the journey had given him.

           With Morgan in his arms, the blue glow of Christmas tree lights still shining from behind him as he looked out over the snow and the waves lapping gently against the rocky beach, even the thought of their entire extended clan of family and friends joining them tomorrow for Christmas dinner and the sharing of gifts, songs, stories, and laughter, could top the stolen hour he had with his little girl, the one who had recaptured his heart already stolen by her mother.  There was no other holiday event to equal the poignant thrill of the one he was already in, and it was that moment when he heard Emma’s soft tread coming up behind him, followed by her cool, soft hand trailing over his side as she stopped right next to him.

           His breath trapped itself in his chest as he blinked rapidly, wondering if he had somehow drifted off into a dream standing still.  He had been wrong seconds ago, because only with his wife’s presence as well was the night’s magic fully complete.

^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^***^^^^^^^^^^^***

           Emma Swan-Jones had woken up alone, and after groggily feeling around in the cooling sheets and covers rumpled on her husband’s side of their bed, she had awakened more fully, and then admitted defeat, pulled on her robe, and gone in search of him.  It hadn’t really taken her long; there was a definite circuit her startlingly predictable and domestic rapscallion made when he was up late at night.  Starting at the room just down the hall from theirs, tucked into the northern corner of the house, Emma peeked in to see her now nearly adult son sleeping soundly, his feet kicked out from under the blankets and arm flung up over his face.  Though he was not Killian’s by birth, it had never stopped making Emma’s heart beat faster at how much Killian treasured her son, and always thought of him first. Henry’s room was still her captain’s first stop on his nightly check-in, whether Henry was almost eighteen or not.

           Moving back the way she had come on silent, slippered tiptoes Emma paused to smile in warm affection at the pictures scattered along the walls of their upstairs hallway.  They had – almost a year ago now, she mused – commissioned a large, spreading tree painted on the wall, its large branches filled with craggy twigs and green leaves reaching to cover the full length of the upstairs hall.  Hung at staggered intervals on the overspread branches were family photos they had taken and framed, gradually filling the wall with treasured memories.  Emma traced a finger over the picture just before her – one of herself in the delivery room with a mere minutes-old Morgan in her arms while her father stood at her bedside, hand cradling the back of her head as he often did, unabashed tears streaming down his strong face as he traced a finger over his granddaughter’s soft baby cheek and bent to place a kiss to Emma’s hair.  

           The whole thing, a “literal family tree” Killian had marveled enthusiastically when she had shared the idea with him, and again in awe when they stood back to look at it finished with pictures on its boughs, no longer brought the ache of pain in her chest that it once had.  She had often seen the family tree for pictures years ago, when she was about seven, at one of the first foster homes she’d been placed in long term. She had loved the thing, spent hours staring at all the pictures until she knew every single one and its spot of honor by heart.  As she stayed there one month, then two, and then three and her birthday neared, she had begun to hope that she might be adopted and added to the tree – a picture of her own saying that she finally belonged.  When she had instead been gifted a new lunch box and a fitting for the glasses she’d needed instead, and had then haltingly braved asking, only to be told offhandedly than that she was “a good kid” but she wasn’t family, wasn’t going to be staying forever, Emma had shattered somewhere inside, beyond repair, and the first level of that wall around her heart had been completed.

           Looking at the next picture, one of Henry, Anna, and Kristoff sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs on the ice rink Elsa had whipped up for them when their friends visited from Arendelle two Christmases ago, with Emma and Elsa laughingly trying to help them up instead of joining the giggling heap, Emma smiled gently despite the bittersweet scene that had bubbled back up momentarily. Seeing their happy memories preserved right in front of her, she was prouder and more contented than ever that she and her True Love had created this tree of their own, both of them now celebrating the holidays – and every day – with family neither of them had believed they would ever have…the family she had always wished for.

           Her smile small and knowing as it curved the soft contours of her face, the dimple pressing clearly into her cheek, Emma quickly checked Morgan’s nursery just across from she and Killian’s bedroom, but was not a bit surprised when she found both the cradle and the rocker, where she often discovered her husband sitting with their daughter, crooning to her until she went back to sleep, both empty.  She knew exactly where she would find them both, and suddenly she needed to see them, to wrap her arms around her husband and her daughter, to touch them both and remind herself that her once wistful dream had come true at last.

           When she stepped off the linoleum of their large kitchen – who would have ever imagined a pirate captain and a teenage boy would become adventurous cooking enthusiasts together? – and onto the hardwood of the enclosed porch, she knew Killian almost instantly sensed her presence.  Not much got by him after all.  Still, the sight of him in the glow of the moon through glass, cradling their child in his arms, near took her breath away, the dim light stealing none of his beauty, nor succeeding in hiding the handsome contours of his scruffy jawline or the twinkling blue of his mischievous gaze as she drew up alongside him, simply having to reach out and touch his warm skin as he turned to smile down at her.

           “What’re you two doing out here in the middle of the night again, hmm?” she murmured lowly, pressing a kiss to his bare bicep while happily burrowing into his side and then trailing lazy fingers over Morgan’s back before resting her hand at Killian’s waist, soothingly rubbing there as he hummed low in his throat, contented as a cat now that both his loves were with him.

           “Merely enjoying the few festive lights around the water,” he spoke lowly in response, his doting glance slipping down to Morgan, who had since turned back into his chest and resumed her sleep, belying his words about them both watching the lights and clearly gaining much more enjoyment from some cozy rest in her father’s arms.

           “Is that so?” Emma nodded playfully, as if humoring his ridiculous fancy. Beyond Marco’s décor and the dock lights, there wasn’t much Christmas lighting out so near the harbor.  She knew her husband still loved being close to the water, watching its perpetual ebb and flow ease his soul, and that he was probably hoping the same affinity would transfer to their daughter. Smirking, at the impish idea that entered her mind, Emma rubbed her hand up and down over his lower back, once more drawing his full attention.  Quirking an eyebrow as well, she added playfully, “Well, what if I really gave you something to look at, Sailor?”

           “Why,” he quirked his own rascally eyebrow with a curious tip of his head, “whatever might you mean, Love?” he returned, tip of his tongue sneaking out to run over his lower lip in a way Emma’s eyes couldn’t help but follow with her own hungry gaze. Years may have passed since their trip up the beanstalk, but he had never ceased being sizzlingly attractive to her – at a moment’s notice, with a single gesture.

           “Hmm…” she pursed her lips, looking at him deviously while merely pretending to think, “maybe something like this?” She didn’t even look away from him when she twisted her hand, and with a flick of her fingers, seemingly illuminated the night in front of them.

           Turning to look back out the windows, Killian couldn’t miss his own ship at the dock, as his dazzling wife had just lit it up like their living room tree.  White twinkle lights outlined the sails and the bow against the night sky, complete with a bright red star atop the main mast and running multicolored bulbs trailing down the mast from the star and over to circle the ship’s wheel.  “Bloody brilliant,” he mouthed in almost silent admiration, and Emma snorted lightly, shaking her head at this man who had seen and done so much, and yet still could be made so genuinely happy with the smallest sincere gesture.

           “So, that’ll do, will it, Captain?” she asked teasingly.

           “Aye,” he nodded, eyes coming back to hers and looking down on her and Morgan with such love that Emma again struggled to catch her breath.  “It will indeed.”

           She clasped his elbow, squeezing tightly and content to stay there with him the rest of the night, hating to move and have the moment of rare perfect contentment end.  “Merry Christmas, Killian,” she whispered lightly.

           “Merry Christmas to you too,” he replied, moving to the settee where they both could huddle with Morgan and enjoy their newly festive lighted view to their hearts’ content.  “I love you, my Swan.” 

[blackphoenixalchemylab]

Treat: Black Phoenix Trading Post Halloween 2017 Update

The Black Phoenix Trading Post WEENIES are online now and ready for your delectation!

We’re so excited about this collection of collections! Dive into Pile of Dead Leaves hair glosses, get goosebumps from Haunted Locations atmosphere sprays! Catch a sugar buzz on Halloween spice-y perfumes, bath oils and hair glosses. Stir up some old-school creeps with Tell-Tale Heart hair glosses, atmosphere sprays, and even a bath bomb. (Bang!) That last collection, based on the Edgar Allan Poe story, features eerie label art by Drew Rausch. 

Dr. Frankenstein himself couldn’t have stitched together anything better than this supercollection. Meet the BPTP Weenies!

++ PILE OF DEAD LEAVES: HALLOWEEN HAIR GLOSSES

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the heart feels a languid grief Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf? And how the swift beat of the brain Falters because it is in vain, In Autumn at the fall of the leaf Knowest thou not? and how the chief Of joys seems—not to suffer pain? Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the soul feels like a dried sheaf Bound up at length for harvesting, And how death seems a comely thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

- Dante Gabriel Rossetti

DEAD LEAVES, SPANISH SAFFRON, PATCHOULI, LAOTIAN OUD, AND HONEY HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES AND BLACK MUSK HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES, CREAM AMBER, AND LEMON PEEL HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES AND BLUEBERRY CHYPRE HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES AND SUGAR CRYSTALS HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES, PUMPKIN PULP, AND PEPPERCORNS HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES, LICORICE ROOT, TONKA BEAN, AND PATCHOULI HAIR GLOSS

DEAD LEAVES AND BURNT MARSHMALLOWS HAIR GLOSS

++ BPTP HAUNTED LOCATIONS ATMOSPHERE SPRAY

Titivate your abattoir or (un)living space with these frightful atmospheric sprays.

ABANDONED CAR ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Cracked, peeling leather, creeping sheets of corrosion, exposed wires, and congealed pools of motor oil.

DESERTED THEATER ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Cracked oak beams, sagging, moth-shredded velvet curtains, beeswax and streaks of ancient greasepaint, shadows of broken props, a memory of tobacco smoke, a discarded ballet slipper, and a broken marionette.

DESOLATE FARMHOUSE ATMOSPHERE SPRAY

Dry, forgotten hay bales, discarded scythes, and stalks of ergot-thick rye swaying gently in the gloaming.

FORGOTTEN CHURCHYARD ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Black-rusted gates swinging wildly on broken hinges. Weed-choked mausoleums and crumbling marble thick with corpse-green mold. Claw-streaked soil and broken pine boughs.

SHUTTERED ASYLUM ATMOSPHERE SPRAY Decades of dust clashing with antiseptic. The mouldering canvas and leather of discarded strait-jackets. Crusts of blood threading between shattered tiles. Wet rubber padding. Electricity-scarred metal gurneys. Crushed pill casings and dribbles of sticky laudanum.

++ BPTP HAIR GLOSS

Get your fur, tentacles, shroud, scales, or carapace gleaming with Black Phoenix Trading Post’s ghastly glosses!  (Okay, it’s actually made for hair, but it’s Halloween, people. Allow for some poetic license.)

AUTUMN CIDER HAIR GLOSS Fermented apple juice, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, clove, lemon zest, butterscotch liquor, and orange slices.

BLUEBERRY PUMPKIN MUFFINS HAIR GLOSS Muffiny! Pumpkiny! Big oozy lumps of blueberry!

ABSINTHE-LACED CANDIED APPLE HAIR GLOSS With a dribble of caramel and flecks of white sugar.

POMEGRANATE, WHITE PUMPKIN RIND, AND ROSE GERANIUM HAIR GLOSS

PUMPKIN LATTE HAIR GLOSS Espresso, pumpkin syrup, smoky vanilla bean, milk, raw sugar, and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.

PUMPKIN SPICE RUM HAIR GLOSS For spiking that latte. (We won’t tell.)

PUMPKIN SUGAR HAIR GLOSS Crystallized glittering shards of lightly spiced pumpkin sugar.

++ HALLOWEEN BATH OILS

Recline in pleasurable, tranquil languor, stimulate your senses, and renew yourself before your next haunting with our therapeutic bath oils.

POMEGRANATE CLOVE BATH OIL Sweet and darkly warming.

PUMPKIN BUTTER ICE CREAM BATH OIL As sweet as it sounds.

++ BLACK PHOENIX TRADING POST PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUMES, PLUS ONE

CANDY CORN-COLORED PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUME OIL Sweet orange candyfloss with a hint of lemon peel and a husky breath of candy corn.

CHOCOLATE PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUME OIL Pumpkin floss with threads of dark chocolate!

CRIMSON PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUME OIL Pomegranate and maraschino cherry pumpkin floss!

PURPLE PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUME OIL Wild plum, fig, and blackcurrant pumpkin floss!

WHITE PUMPKIN FLOSS PERFUME OIL White chocolate and marshmallow pumpkin floss!

GINGERBREAD HAUNTED HOUSE PERFUME OIL White icing skeletons, sour gummi worms, red licorice bloodstains, chocolate werewolf prints, and pretzel stick vampire stakes.

++ TELL-TALE HEART

Story by Edgar Allan Poe, art by Drew Rausch, scents by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and Black Phoenix Trading Post.

VERY, VERY DREADFULLY NERVOUS HAIR GLOSS TRUE! -- nervous -- very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? A proclamation of sanity: a dignified bay rum cologne and a hint of respectable lime aftershave, pierced through by glittering shards of madness.

A DARK LANTERN ATMOSPHERE SPRAY And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it -- oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly -- very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously - oh, so cautiously -- cautiously (for the hinges creaked) -- I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights -- every night just at midnight --but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

Midnight observations and false cheer: moon-shrouded indigo musk illuminated by a thin, wavering amber light, punctuated with erratic bursts of neroli’s sharp affability.

MY SECRET DEEDS HAIR GLOSS Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers -- of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back -- but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

Thick darkness, black as pitch:  opoponax, oily labdanum, and birch tar disrupted by a bubbling carnation chuckle.

HEARKENING TO THE DEATH WATCHES IN THE WALL ATMOSPHERE SPRAY I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out -- "Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; -- just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Doom: aged red patchouli, macerated red peppercorn, gloom-black musk, and creaking planks of dry oak.

I FOAMED! I RAVED! I SWORE! HAIR GLOSS I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men -- but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not?

Black opium and screeching blood orange.

LOUDER! LOUDER! LOUDER! BATH BOMB Almighty God! -- no, no! They heard! -- they suspected! -- they knew! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! - this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now -- again! -- hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!

A pulsating dragon’s blood and blood musk bath fizz.

Vegan, handmade, cruelty-free bath bombs crafted by Dream Drop Bath Bombs.

[juliebeanbook]

eleven: things are gonna change like a hundred degrees

I stood in front of the steamed-up mirror, a towel wrapped around me, my hair dripping, trying to understand myself. “You did a gay thing,” I told my reflection. She looked back at me with her head tilted, like she didn’t believe me. “You did a really gay thing,” I repeated. “And you liked it. What does that mean?”

My reflection didn’t have an answer and neither did I.

I padded down the hall with damp feet, clutching the towel around myself, and looked around my room for something to wear to class. While rooting through my drawers for a skirt, my hand touched something worn and soft. I pulled out a big sweater, instantly recognizing it as one of Ben’s.

The familiar emotions that came with remembering Ben came flooding back, but instead of making me cringe like they used to, they just made me confused. What I’d had with Ben had been broken for sure, especially near the end, but it had been real. I had loved him and I had wanted him and what did that mean now? I sat down hard on my bed and groaned, muffling the noise by shoving my face into my pillow; I was giving myself a headache.

I spent the next week in a cocoon of self-reflection, sitting through classes distracted and distant. I wrote a physiology midterm and a bio quiz, but my heart wasn’t in it; my mind was occupied by Emmy, by Ben, by thoughts I couldn’t extricate. Thoughts that, a year ago, I promised myself I wouldn’t think about again. I spent a lot of time talking to myself in the mirror, trying to figure myself out. When I wasn’t in classes, I mostly kept to myself, listening to gloomy music; every once in a while I would talk to Emmy, but she seemed to know I needed space. After all, she was part of the problem.

By the time Friday came around, I was feeling a little better; ready to see Em again, ready to embrace the butterflies. As I was putting on a dress for the show, having actually attended to my hair instead of just throwing it up in a sorry excuse for a bun, Andy barged into my room.

“I could have been naked; it’s called knocking.”

“I’ve seen you without clothes before. I’m not afraid.” She picked up a sweater from where it was sitting on my desk, holding it up in disgust. “Julie, I have come in here to stage an intervention.”

She was standing with her hands on her hips, looking at me critically. “Why?” I asked her. “What did I do?”

“I have watched you sulk around for two weeks now. You’ve worn, like, two pairs of pants over and over again, you haven’t eaten a piece of fruit in sixteen days, and if I have to listen to one more Indigo Girls ballad blasting down the hall I’m going to come in here and smash your speakers. What the hell is going on with you?”

I sighed and sat down on my bed, crossing my legs and looking at the floor. “It’s just been a rough couple weeks, okay?”

“No, not okay. I want you to tell me what’s going on, Jules. This isn’t like you. I’m worried.” She leaned against my desk chair.

I could feel my heart thudding in my throat. I looked up at Andy, her sandy hair hanging in long pieces around her face, her skinny legs clad in her favourite jeans. I’d known her for a year and a half now; she’d become a sister to me, someone who knew everything about me but still put up with me. I knew I could trust her with anything. So why was I so afraid?

“Okay, well, I’ve just been…thinking some stuff through,” I said. Fear made my blood freeze up; my hands shook, and I sat on them to keep them still. “I mean, this isn’t new. But lately some shit has gone down. And…I’ve been sorting some things out. Kind of. At least, that’s what I’ve been working on.”

“What are you talking about?” Andy asked.

“Okay. Well. A couple weeks ago I was in the storage room at the Moonlight with Emmy…”

“Okay…”

“And I don’t know what happened, but we, um, well. We made out.”

“You made out?” she repeated.

“Yep. Totally made out.” It wasn’t as hard to tell her as I thought it would have been; the way I was telling her made it seem like no big deal, instead of the Very Big Deal it had been for me since it happened.

“Were you drunk?” she asked me, standing up straight and crossing her arms across her chest.

I shook my head. “No, we were both sober.”

Andy didn’t say anything, just nodded, stared at the carpet. “So…” she said finally. “What does that mean? Did you, like, enjoy it?”

“Yes? Kind of? I don’t know, it was a weird thing!”

“I’m so confused. I thought you were straight! You were dating Ben!”

“Well, I don’t know. I think I might be bi,” I blurted out. It came out as almost a whisper.

In that moment, as the words left my mouth, two things happened simultaneously; I felt an overwhelming sense of right, of things clicking into place, satisfying and true. But at the same time, I felt the way you feel when you drop something off a tall building, or onto train tracks – all I wanted to do was to reach out, take it back, even though it was out of my hands for good.

I was expecting a lot of things from Andy, but I had not expected her to look pissed off. “Wait, what, like bisexual?” she clarified.

“Yes, like bisexual,” I said, feeling mildly annoyed.

“Julie, that basically just means half-gay. And you’re not half-gay. I’ve known you since last year, you would have told me if you were gay, right?”

The comment bugged me, like an itch you can’t quite scratch. “Well, maybe I don’t know myself that well. I don’t know. I’m figuring things out, I told you.”

“But this is a big thing. Like, friends are supposed to know this about each other. You should have told me about this before!”

“Well, I’m sorry that I haven’t kept you updated with a constant internal monologue, Andy. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Well, I don’t know either. All I know is that I feel like I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

I stood up, my arms clutching at the front of my dress. “I’ve got to go,” I said, pushing past her on my way out my bedroom door. “I’m wearing a pair of your heels tonight. Might be a late show, don’t wait up.”

“Wait, are you mad at me?” She was standing small in the doorway, clutching the frame and looking at me with wide eyes.

I pressed my lips together, buttoned up my coat, slid on her heels. “Whatever, Andy,” I said, attempting to slam the door of the sexy apartment behind me as I left. It didn’t slam right the first time, so I kicked it closed with the bottom of the heel, then click-clacked down the hall.

I stayed pissed until about halfway to the Moonlight, when snow had filled Andy’s heels and made my feet cold and miserable. By the time I got there, the anger had mostly abated, leaving me with a slight sense of embarrassment and the overwhelming urge to cry. The rest of the band was already there setting up; I silently helped them, then went and sat on a couch to wait for an audience to show up. Emmy gave me a questioning look from where she was tuning onstage, and I shrugged. I would talk to her later, but right now, I didn’t know if I could tell her anything without breaking down.

“Boo!” I jumped at the sound of my sister’s voice. I turned and saw Jamie and Anne-Marie standing by the couch, with Kathleen in tow, her hint of a belly peeking out from between the flaps of her coat.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Taking my car in for an oil change,” Jamie said. “What do you think, dummy? We haven’t seen you guys play yet and Kathleen was over so we decided to stop by!”

I had to crack a smile at the funny little group – petite Jamie in her bright green shirt from the Dirty Burger; tall Anne-Marie bundled up in a scarf and fuzzy stocking cap like she’d just come out of a blizzard; Kathleen with her hand resting on her stomach and her face stretched in a goofy grin. They were so mismatched, and yet, there were Jamie’s fingers wove between Anne-Marie’s; there was Anne-Marie’s hand hovering around Kathleen’s shoulders protectively.

When I went up to the stage to get ready to start the show, Emmy was smiling at something past me. “What?” I asked her as I sat on the edge of the stage (tonight, I was the duck).

“They’re just so cute,” she said, and I looked at where my sister was sitting with her girlfriend and the girl they’d taken under their wing. Kathleen was showing them something on her phone, and Jamie’s wild laugh could be heard from across the room.

The show did go late that night; the crowd was especially pumped up, and we rode out their energy, playing past eleven. The café staff didn’t really care; their hours were pretty loose on Fridays because of us. Whitney took out a book and read behind the counter until we finished.

When we finally wrapped up it was pushing midnight. I helped the others pack up, in no hurry to get home. Emmy seemed to sense that I wanted to stick around; when we were finished packing, she sat with me on a sofa and didn’t try to make conversation. Kathleen had her head on Anne-Marie’s shoulder; Jamie was telling Dex about the new recipe she was trying out with red chile mayo. We stayed there until Whitney told us that, as much as she would like to let us sleep here, she was pretty sure there were laws against that. So our little group filed out of the Moonlight into the cold midnight air. It stung my exposed cheeks like a little bitch.

Anne-Marie and Jamie said goodbye and Kathleen gave me a hug as they got into Anne-Marie’s car. “Do you want a ride home?” Emmy asked me.

“Um…I don’t really want to go home yet,” I said.

She winced. “Is everything okay?”

I shook my head. “Can we just hang out for a while somewhere?”

She looked down the street, pointed east. “There’s a diner over there that’s open till three.”

There was no one in the diner, a hole-in-the-wall little place with Formica tabletops and red vinyl booths, besides an elderly waitress nodding behind the counter. Emmy found us a booth by the front window, and the waitress made her slow way over in her sensible shoes; we ordered a coffee each.

“This place has the worst cup of coffee in the city,” Emmy mentioned to me as the waitress left.

I stared at her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that before I ordered some?”

“Because you look like you could use a coffee,” Em said, “and a shitty cup will wake you up faster than a good one.”

Our coffee was served, and Emmy was right, it was stunningly bad. But it did wake me up, and made me feel a little stronger, so I told Em everything, right up until the point where I slammed the apartment door.

“Shit, Jules, that sounds dramatic,” she said. “Good work!”

“Well, it would’ve been more dramatic if I’d actually slammed it successfully the first time,” I conceded. “I actually had to kick it shut.”

She chuckled. “Well, points for trying. For real though, I’m sorry. That it went badly.”

I leaned my elbows on the table and rested my head in my hands. “I didn’t think it would go like that. I thought Andy would be more…on board, I don’t know.”

She leaned back in her seat with a vague half-smile. “That’s the funny thing. People never react how you think they will. I have three siblings, and not a single one reacted the way I thought they were going to when I came out to them.”

“Really?” I squinted at her. “Not even Kathleen?”

“God, no. Kathleen freaked out, wouldn’t talk to me for weeks. Sinead, she’s my older sister, she pretty much pretended it never happened. Even kept asking me if there were any boys in school I had my eye on.” She shook her head, laughing. “Like, seriously, she was deep in denial. And Neil…well, I thought he would freak out too, but he was actually really sweet. We’re close in age, him and I, so I guess he understood me better.”

“What about your parents?” I asked her.

“They…reacted better than expected,” she said carefully, probably aware she was treading on dangerous ground. “A little shocked for a while, but they came around. Yours will too,” she added, to my unspoken question.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Coming out to my parents is sort of asking for disownment.”

Emmy stared at me. “Is that what happened to your sister?” I hadn’t told her explicitly about what happened to Jamie before, just hinted that things were bad.

“Pretty much. They kicked her out of the house. Haven’t spoken to her in five and a half years.”

“Do you talk to them?”

“When I have to. They want me to come home for Christmas.”

“Jesus Christ.” Emmy covered her face with one hand, sighing. “Well, if you need to get out of there, you can come to my parents’ place, alright? They won’t mind if you stay with us for a bit.”

“No, Em, it’s okay. They don’t know yet, I’ll be fine.”

“Just promise me you’ll come if things get bad.” She stared at me until I met her eyes.

I finally gave in, gave a nod of consent. “Okay, I will.”

She took my hand in hers. I could feel the tough calloused tips of her fingers against the skin of my palm. She made me finish the awful cup of coffee, then drove me back to Maplebrook. I didn’t want to leave her car; stepping out onto the curb felt like breaking a kiss too soon.

The apartment was silent when I got in, all the lights turned off. I slipped quietly to my room, flicking on the light. It was just as I’d left it; my bed unmade, empty wrappers and boxes littering the floor, two cast-off dresses making snow-angels on the carpet. I climbed into bed and tried to pretend things were the same as they were yesterday, but there was no going back. The thing with telling the truth is that no matter how much it hurts you, you can’t deny how good it feels to tell it. I cried into the pillow until I ran out of salt, my truth weighing me down, a muted sense of panic in my chest. When the caffeine finally wore off, I fell asleep feeling short on air; heavy, trapped, gasping.

[heartbreaker-club]

The Best Outdoor Chairs for Big and Tall Guys for 2018?

What are the best big and tall outdoor chairs? This is a common question among plus size people who want to have a good time in the outdoors – without the worry of falling off a weak chair or trying to fit into a rather small outdoor chair…

In this post, I will cover three main categories of big and tall outdoor chairs:

Beach chairs for big guys

Camp chairs for heavy people

Lawn chairs for heavy person

Beach Chairs for Big Guys | Plus Size Beach Chairs

What are the best beach chairs for big guys? This is a common question among plus size people who want to have a good time at the beach without the worry of falling off a weak beach chair or trying to fit into a rather small chair.

Finding a great beach chair for a heavy person can be a daunting task since most plus size chairs can’t handle over 250 lbs. Buying a beach chair that will buckle under pressure puts your life at risk.

Here, we understand what most plus size persons go through when shopping for a plus size furniture. To make the process as painless as possible, we have researched and thoroughly reviewed the best beach chairs for a heavy person – ranging from 250lbs to 800bs.

So, What are the Best Beach Chairs for Heavy Person?

After thorough testing and research, we have come with a winner. Ladies and gentlemen, the best beach chairs for plus size people are the ALPS Mountaineering King Kong Chair.

>>>View on Amazon.com<<<

The beach chair for big people has a weight capacity of up to 800 lbs – thanks to its patented powder coated steel frame. This means that the chair can accommodate all plus size people. You can now have fun at the beach regardless of your weight.

To ensure your comfort, the chair comes with adjustable armrests. Unlike other beach chairs, you can adjust this chair’s armrests until you find your sweet spot. To add to the comfort, the chair features a 600D polyester fabric throughout.

Each of the chair’s arms has a cup holder and a side pocket. With the two cup holders, you always have your drink whenever you need it.

For easy storage and transport, the20 by 38 by 38’ beach chair features a compact foldable design. The chair also comes with a shoulder carry bag for easy storage and transport. The 800lb-capacity city weighs just 12.5lbs.

The chair’s back pocket acts as additional storage where you can store the carry bag and other items. The back pocket is made of mesh to keep it aerated.

The beach chair for large persons offers a perfect balance between durability and comfort. This chair will serve you for years comfortably.

Other beach chairs you should consider

We understand the fact that not everyone needs an 800 lb-capacity chair. For this reason, we have reviewed and tested other chairs and you can find some of them below

NFL Quad Beach Chair

Sit back, relax and have a good time at the beach in comfort of the NFL Quad Chair.

The beach seat for heavy persons has a weight capacity of 300 lbs. To hold this weight, the chair is made using 17.5mm powder coated frame.

>>>View on Amazon.com<<<

The cozy beach chair for plus size people comes with a carrying bag for easy transport and convenience.

To make sure you have your drink near you at all times, the seat comes with an integrated cup holder.

To make the chair even more appealing, your favorite NFL team’s logo is printed on the seat.

Picnic Time Portable Folding ‘Sports Chair’, Black

The Picnic Time Portable Folding ‘Sports Chair’, Black is arguably one of the most popular outdoor chairs for camping, the beach, spectator sports, and backyard barbecuing.

>>>View on Amazon.com<<<

This lightweight folding chair with a sturdy aluminum frame is great for heavy people who want to spend a good time at the beach, comfortably. The chair has a 300 lbs weight capacity.

For easy and comfortable transport, beach chair for big people features an adjustable shoulder strap and two handles.

The 19.5” wide seat is made of 600D polyester, which makes it durable and comfortable. The seat also features padded armrests for optimal relaxation.

The chair’s accessories panel includes a variety of pockets. The pockets are for holding sunglasses, cell phones, magazines etc

When it comes to your drink, the chair features a beverage pouch and a side table that folds out.

With the variety of features, the Picnic Time Portable Folding ‘Sports Chair’, Black makes the perfect beach chair for heavy people.

Big Agnes – Helinox – Chair One

The Big Agnes – Helinox – Chair One is another great beach chair for plus size people. The chair brings both comfort and style.

>>>View on Amazon.com<<<

These beach chairs for big guys have a capacity of 320 lbs. Great for people who are over 250 lbs who don’t need the 800 lbs chair.

To hold the capacity of 250 lbs comfortably, the chair is made using anodized DA aluminum frame and 600D polyester.

The beach chair is easy to set up. In fact, it almost assembles itself. You don’t need much time and expertise to set it up.

With its lightweight (of just 1.9 lbs), the chair is easy to carry making it a friend to anyone on the go. The chair can be packed down to 14” x 4” x 5” for easier carrying and storing. It comes with an included carrying case.

The chair is available in a variety of different colors. You’re spoilt for choice when it comes to colors.

You Might Also Like: The Best Extra Large Camping Cots

GCI Outdoor Freestyle Rocker, Indigo Blue

These beach chairs for big guys have a capacity of up to 250 lbs (or 113.4 kg). The stylish and comfortable outdoor chair is field tested to ensure safety and comfort.

>>>View on Amazon.com<<<

The beach chair for big guys is made using high-quality materials to ensure safety, comfort, and durability. This gives you value for your money.

The chair comes with padded armrests. This coupled with its innovative design for easy rocking makes it one of the most comfortable beach chairs for a heavy person.

The 13 lb beach chair is easy to fold. This makes it easy to carry and store.

The freestyle rocker comes in midnight blue and hunter green colors. The chair is great for the beach, camping, and outdoor concerts.

Best Beach Chairs for Big Guys Buying Guide

The following are some of the important factors you need to keep in mind when buying a beach seat for a heavy person.

Weight capacity: Know your weight and shop for a chair that will hold your weight comfortably.

Dimensions: Go for a beach chair that has enough width to hold your body. Most beach chairs are not wide enough.

Portability: the beach chair should be easy to carry around. A good chair will come with a carrying bag for convenient carrying.

Accessories: A good chair will have a cup holder and extra pockets for storage of personal effects.

Weight: A great beach chair for heavy people should be lightweight. A lightweight chair is easy to carry.

I hope the post has helped lay your hands on the best beach chairs for big guys.

Camp Chairs for Heavy People | Plus-size Camp Chairs

If you are a plus size man passionate about outdoor getaways, and you have never considered one of the top-rated camp chairs for heavy people, then you are missing out big.

You see, camping chairs for fat people are designed specifically to help you enjoy a complete experience during your trips to the park, camping, the beach, or anywhere else you might need a seat.

Focused on your comfort, they are oversized and have a restful back with some even having cup holders and padded armrest.

And importantly, most feature a sturdy steel frame to ensure you will never again worry about your seat collapsing under your weight

So, rather than squeezing yourself into an inadequate, highly uncomfortable minimalist camp chair, grab a camping chair for heavy person and push fun a notch higher…

See for yourself their distinct advantages next…

Advantages of camp chairs for heavy people

They are very roomy hence easier to get into/out of.

Some have a locking mechanism to ensure you enjoy ‘sag-free’ sitting

Since they have a higher weight limit, you can relax knowing they are steady under weight

And since nothing is perfect, they have a few drawbacks. Here they are

Disadvantages of camp chairs for heavy people

Some costs more

Because of elaborate features, they can be quite heavy

Types of Camping chairs

Also, it’s important to know about how camping chairs are generally created and the various types..

Here we go.

Generally, camp chairs fall into 3 basic groups:

Elaborate Camping Chairs

As the names suggest, these have extensive features- superb leg rest, excellent recliner function etc.

They are super comfy and very stable.

What about their pricing? They are obviously the most expensive.

If you frequently go on camping trips, you will most probably go for them as they never compromise your comfort.

Regular Camping Chairs

These have the very basic components- legs, seat back and armrest. Most are foldable and quite handy to carry. They are best for regular camping trips with minimal hopping around.

Minimalist Camping Chairs

These just give somewhere to sit. Examples are folding stools and chairs. These are preferred by backpackers who rarely require sitting for long

So, that’s how they are…

Top camp chairs for heavy people review

Now let’s go back to the harder part…there are hundreds upon hundreds of big man camp seats and selecting is not that easy…

Knowing this, we decided to make your work easier by investigating over 20 Camp chairs for heavy people

We critiqued each on merit and finally ended with the following 4 chairs…

From our experience, we believe they have most of the crucial features to serve your outdoor requirements

Guide Gear Mossy Oak Break-Up COUNTRY Oversized King Chair

This claims a spot on our top 4 camping chairs for fat people by the virtue of the extra room it gives you and the remarkable padding on top of a super sturdy steel frame.

Its cup holders will allow you to carry and sip your favorite drink as you relax around the campfire swapping stories.

Don’t forget it easily folds …

Overall, I deem it to be one of the best folding chairs for large people

Guide Gear Mossy Oak Features

Fabric: Polyester

Steel tube frame

Hanging storage pouch

carry / storage bag

Extra padding

Maximum weight: 500 lbs.

Inbuilt cup holders

Foldable

Guide Gear Mossy Pros

Has a beverage cup holder

More comfortable thanks to enhanced padding

You have a Hanging pouch to store your cellphones, books, magazines and more

Easily folds up for easy storage/movement

Can support more weight- up to 500 lbs.

Guide Gear Mossy Cons

Its fabric sometimes slides

Verdict

This spacious folding big camper chair has enhanced padding, and a steadier steel frame to support even a 500 lbs. big man.

It also has a storage pouch plus a cup holder and is one of our favorite folding chair for large person

Kijaro XXL Dual Lock Chair – Big and Tall Outdoor Chairs

Could you be looking for a dazzling camping chair 400 lbs. capacity? Then you might be after the Kijaro Dual lock chair..

This is why…

It delivers a unique ‘no-sag’ seating experience thanks to its dual Lock feature which allows you to open and lock it at the point where you feel most comfortable.

The locks can also be closed for increased portability

This is a really strong camping chair big in comfort and support.

Kijaro XXL Features

Made from ripstop polyester

Dual Lock , No-sag folding chair

Multi-colored

Zip pocket, cell phone holder and mesh pocket

Carry strap

Mesh organizer

Two mesh cup holders

Seat back has Breathable mesh

Maximum weight: 400 lbs.

Kijaro XXL Pros

Locks when open to avoid sagging

Comes in so many beautiful colors

Very breathable

The side pocket adds to your storage options

You get two cup holders (one bigger and the other standard)

Superior comfort

Taller so easier to get in/out

Kijaro XXL Cons

The riveting system could have been better

Kijaro XXL Verdict

This is a big breathable, portable and comfortable folding sturdy camping chair with a dual lock and comes in a variety of sweet colors.

It delivers an outstanding ‘no-sag’ seating experience for big people

Quik Chair Heavy Duty Folding Camp Chair – Grey

This is one of the very best in the business. It is an ever-present whenever we are compiling a list of the best folding camping chairs for heavy people ..

First, it sets up within seconds to provide a comfortable perch for any outdoor activity.

Similarly, when it’s time to go, it easily folds to slot in its colorful carry bag which has a strong shoulder strap for your convenience

It has other elaborate features like full armrests and 2 cup holders.

Finally, its heavy duty polyester construction is moisture/stain resistant, and very easy to clean

Quik Chair Features

Folding armchair

Made from heavy-duty water & stain resistant polyester fabric

Durable steel frame

Carry bag (with a shoulder strap)

Maximum weight: 500 lbs.

Easy pop-up assembly

Twin all-fabric cup holders(fitted in the armrests)

Quik Chair Pros

Quickly folds/sets up

Very comfortable

Excellent carry bag

You get full armrests

It has two all-fabric cup holders for your beverages

Very durable

Moisture /stain resistant

Very easy to maintain and clean

Quik Chair Cons

The arms are a bit low

Its cup holders are fairly small

Verdict

This is a top contender for the most functional camp chairs for heavy people. It instants pops up for use and easily folds for storage.

It has full armrests with two fabric cup holders and is moisture/stain resistant hence easy to clean.

It supports up to 500 pounds

ALPS Mountaineering King Kong Chair

This is another recommended well built, comfortable big man camp chair.

It is joined with screws rather than the usual cheap rivets which tend to come out pretty soon.

If you truly want a rugged and comfortable substitute for your average portable chairs for heavy people, then this ticks almost all the boxes

It impresses with adjustable armrest (having a cup holder), a side pocket, strong coated steel frame and resilient polyester fabric.

And can you believe it can hold 800 lbs.? That’s how sturdy it is!

ALPS Mountaineering King Kong Features

Powder-coated steel frame

Strong polyester fabric

Adjustable armrest

Cup holder & side pocket

Shoulder carry bag

Maximum weight: 800 lbs.

ALPS Mountaineering King Kong Pros

Extremely roomy and taller

Very easy to store/carry around

It has all manner of holders/pockets

Easy to set up/fold

Better carry case

Very well made

ALPS Mountaineering King Kong Cons

Originally, it has an odor

Verdict

Larger individuals have a perfect camping solution with this ALPS mountaineering king kong chair.

It’s exceedingly roomy, has a top-quality material and is highly portable.

The 2 drink holders, added to the 2 side pockets plus the other pocket on its back are excellent in organization.

What to look out for when choosing Camp chairs for heavy people

There are a couple of things that you should pay attention to when procuring portable chairs for heavy people

Let me skim over the most crucial;

Weight limit

Camping chairs for heavy people differ in terms of maximum weight supported.

The best is to go a little bit higher…for example, if looking for camp chair for 300 pounds, I will pick camping chair 500 lb. capacity to be on the safe side.

Bonus Features

Some Camp chairs for heavy people flaunt extra fancy features…things like leg rest and beverage cup holders will automatically give such a camping chair for heavy person some extra marks

Your Budget

camping chairs for big people are wildly priced There are instances where you get all your dream features at an unbelievably very low price while sometimes they go high end….for me, I prefer sticking to my budget provided it will meet my needs.

Otherwise, I hate overpaying – especially when I have alternatives.

Overall Construction

Big mans camping chair are made from a variety of materials with nylon being the more dominant fabric.

It is water resistant, durable and very easy to maintain.

Mostly, their legs come from aluminum thanks to its strength.

Also, know that the foam padding make your plus size camping chair lush and more restful.

Remember you are big and so you can only work with sturdy camping chairs

It’s Size and Weight

If you always move a lot during your camping trips, you will need a light big man camping chair

Elaborate extra wide camping chair is the best option all the time but sadly, because of the extended design, they are a bit heavy…

But again, be reasonable and select what you feel will be manageable based on how you expect your adventure to be.

Final thoughts

Choosing Camp chairs for heavy people is not that easy but it’s doable.

You just need to focus and to remember the key considerations like weight limit, bonus features, functionality etc.

If you do this, shortlisting should be breeze and your chances of landing the no.1 big man folding chair greatly enhanced.

Well, I have briefed you on a few of the trending extra strong camping chairs and am sure you are now better equipped to do this.

So, do you have an experience you would like to share with our readers on camp chairs for heavy people?

Drop us a line from the comments section.

Lawn Chairs for Heavy Person – Heavy Duty Lawn Chairs

Sometimes back, I needed several lawn chairs for heavy person for a family camp. We are a family of big guys – I think it’s genetic – and we usually have an outdoor fun activity every 6 months.

It happens that I am the ‘logistics guru’ and this time I was trusted with getting the best possible lawn chairs for big and tall guys.

Let me tell you this:

It’s not easy getting some of these things. First, there aren’t that many manufacturers into heavy man furniture.

Then, some of the few available options are clearly inferior.

Well, I did succeed eventually- but online and I thought I should impress on my editor to allow me to write about lawn chairs for big and tall guys.

So, in this piece, I will be showing you why your outdoor entertainment can’t be complete without big and tall lawn chairs.

Then, what you should look for when buying.

Finally, I will be reviewing the some of the best big and tall lawn chairs – in our opinion.

Ready? Let’s go.

Advantages of lawn chairs for heavy person

They are truly heavy weight so they give Grade A support to big men

All are very safe- they neither crash under your weight, neither skid. Then, the locking recline that is available with some is immense.

They are very comfortable seeing that most have enhanced comfort features like lumbar support and a greater cushioning.

These chairs are wider and have a higher weight capacity so you will always fit superbly

Disadvantages of lawn chairs for heavy person

Though you have a few affordable options, some cost more than standard camp chairs

Because of enhanced features, some may be heavier to move about.

Lawn chairs for heavy person review

Moving on, here now is a review of the camping chairs for fat people that we feel will meet your expectations…

GCI Outdoor Wilderness Recliner – Big and Tall Outdoor Chairs

Back comfort helps you to relax much better so that you can enjoy your time outdoors to the fullest.

Backed by its unique back-comfort technology, this large lawn chair can recline to any angle. Then, its lumbar cushion is beefed up to deliver maximum comfort.

Finally, seeing how easily it folds and opens, plus its heavy duty steel frame, you can clearly tell that this is a top-quality big man folding lawn chair

Features

Patented back-comfort technology

Powder-coated steel frame

Patented auto-fold shoulder and backpack strap technology

Cushioned lumbar support/pad

600 denier polyester material cover

Beverage holder

Weight capacity: 300 lbs.

Pros

Made from very high quality materials

Easily folds/opens for transport

Can recline at any angle

Comes with excellent backpack straps for carrying

Has a highly comfortable lumbar support pad

Conveniently located beverage holder

Cons

Stitching may need reinforcement

Could a bit low for taller guys

Caravan Sports Infinity Oversized Zero Gravity Chair, Brown

One of the biggest advantages of zero gravity chairs is that they promote circulation in your legs subsequently reducing swelling

Now, this is a zero gravity, super big lawn chair custom made to make life easier for the forgotten big man.

And compared to some of the other camping chairs for fat people, it has a better locking system so you can lock it in any position on top of an adjustable headrest which brings additional luxury.

Overall, in terms of protecting you from falling and relaxation, this extra wide camping chair is unmatched

Features

Made from Durable textaline fabric (suspended by a double bungee system)

Dual fingertip locking system

Lockable smooth recline (multiple positions)

Adjustable headrest/lumbar support

Weight capacity: 330 lbs.

Pros

Wider than standard heavy duty camping chairs

Its available in multiple colors

Extremely comfortable

Easy to open/fold

Very durable

More safety thanks to the smooth recline, locking function

Cons

Lacks a cup holder

A little heavier

On The Edge 810171 Black Checker Flag Folding Kingpin Chair

Not many lawn chairs for heavy people make a strong case to be considered the best in the extra wide lawn chairs business than this.

Consider this:

Seat several people at once? Tick. Multiple beverage holders? Tick. Reinforced legs? Tick.

Easy fold/close? Tick. Carry case? Tick. And a removable cooler bag (to store your cold beverage)? Tick.

This is simply a gold standard as far as folding camping chairs for heavy people are concerned.

Features

Removable cooler bag (6 cups)

UV/water resistant fabric

Non-skid foot pads

600D PVC coated Fabric.

25mm steel Frame.

Weight capacity: 400lbs

Reinforced legs.

Carrying case included

Pros

Excellent base support

Extra convenience thanks to the carry/travel case

Its non-skid foot pads make it safer

Can sit more than one person

Provides cold beverage storage via the cooler

Reduces your UV exposure

water resistant

Cons

The recline isn’t lockable

Earth Products Extra Heavy Duty Chair with Side Table

A popular type of folding chairs for large people is the one that includes side tables these not only offer a fantastic holding place for your drinks but can also be used to hold a book or a magazine if you decide to relax with a book in the wilderness.

And don’t forget their decorative aspect.

Now, this is one of the outdoor chairs for heavy people that come with a side table.

It’s, as you would expect, very heavy duty and can work great for both indoors and outdoors.

In short, if you are looking for a great seat to carry to your Camping, beach, or even to a trade show, this would be an inspired choice.

Features

Reinforced steel tubing

Weight limit: 400 lbs.!

Stronger arm rests

Sleek side table

Low profile design

Heavy duty

Pros

Can work both outdoors and indoors.

Portable and super lightweight (for transport)

Conveniently folds

Sleek side table offers extra luxury

Very sturdy

Nice looking

Highly supportive even for somebody weighing 400 lbs.

Cons

No carry bag

It’s not that tall so taller guys may find it a bit uncomfortable

What to look for when buying heavy duty folding lawn chairs

Now, let’s assume you are looking for the best big and tall outdoor chairs. What exactly should you focus on?

You will find your answers next.

Durability

I am sure you want something that can give you service for long. For many big man lawn chairs, the frame and the fabric are some of the indicators of their longevity.

Generally, steel frames are more long-lasting as well as a fabric like 600 denier polyester

Weight capacity

Most, if not all lawn chairs for heavy person have their weight capacities listed. Obviously, you don’t want it to buckle under your weight so it’s important you pick a chair with support for your weight. Check their weight limits as you buy.

Your Comfort

Big and tall outdoor folding chairs for big guys need to be first and foremost, highly comfortable

Check out for the quality of features like the recliner, adjustable lumbar support, cushioning, the height of arm rests and such.

Again, the more spacious it is, the better.

Landing an uncomfortable lawn chair would be tragic- after all, you are investing your money and time.

Your Safety

How safe is it? Chairs with a locking recline system, UV protection and non-skid foot pads are considered more protective.

Extras like beverage holders, carry cases, side tables etc.

If I find several which are comfortable, durable and safe, then I will also check out additional bonuses like the presence of cup holders, a carry case, a side table and such so as to break the tie.

Ease of transport

I need it to be easier to pack for transport and automatically light weight. Backpack straps could also interest me. Remember you might be moving a lot while outdoor so you need something you can easily fold and carry along.

Conclusion

So, that’s about it in this lawn chairs for heavy person review.

I am sure you now have a clue on what makes a heavy man folding chair to be rated among the greatest camp chairs for heavy people

Durability, Support, beverage holders, carry cases and of course weight capacity are just a few of the crucial features.

And for a start, we have also briefed about some of the very best heavy duty lawn chairs

So, next time you are ready to venture out, carry one of the best big and tall outdoor chairs with you and see how fun things become.

As usual, don’t forget to leave us your comment.

The post The Best Outdoor Chairs for Big and Tall Guys for 2018? appeared first on Plus Size Expert.

source https://www.plussizeexpert.com/big-and-tall-outdoor-chairs/

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Name: Jane Heath and Jeremy Walker and their child, Henry Area: Gospel Oak close Hampstead Heath — London, UK Estimate: 1,120 square feet A long time lived in: year and a half. At the point when designers Jane Heath and Jeremy Walker first observed this late-Victorian level, found practically around the bend from Hampstead Heath, they were without a moment's delay attracted to the format and the feeling of room and light. They were searching for another family home after the landing of their child, thus a considerable lot of the pads they'd seen had been made by isolating up expansive houses, prompting spaces that were gracelessly orchestrated. Being reason assembled, be that as it may, this loft was impeccably laid out, with proportional rooms opening a long focal foyer and overhangs at both front and back. Add to that the high roofs, tremendous windows, and oak parquet floors, and Jane and Jeremy knew they'd discovered their home.

As engineers, Jane and Jeremy are both normally energetic about the great outline, albeit every ha a very extraordinary stylish—Jane is more disposed to the negligible and monochrome, while Jeremy inclines towards striking hues and clever, peculiar plan. In their home, they've united their styles in a continuous procedure of discourse and trade-off, with delightful outcomes. Jane and Jeremy run engineering and plan studio HeathWalkerStudio, and Jane shares her energy for insides, materials, outline legends, and craftsmanship (in addition to other things) in her blog, owl's home London. Loft Therapy Survey:  Our Style: Contemporary, exemplary, mixed, particular Motivation: We initially took motivation from the level itself. For us, the plan is about the setting, so working with what was at that point here was fundamental. What's more, we had some flawless extents and highlights, to begin with. We likewise needed to work with a ton of dark cabinetry! My enthusiasm is insides, so I'm continually poring over plan sites and magazines—Architectural Digest and World of Interiors, for instance. Most loved Element: The format. The level is inside a house piece, so it was worked for reason. With galleries front and back, there are dazzling long perspectives through, which is extremely critical for a feeling of room and light. We had burned through a year searching for a level and inhaled a murmur of help the minute we saw this one. Greatest Challenge: Meeting of brains! Being fashioners, we both have a solid tasteful—mine is insignificant and monochrome, Jeremy's is strong and energetic shading! So we've needed to bargain. We additionally moved from a one-room level to a four-room one, and we chose to manage without as opposed to purchasing things we didn't love. So it's as yet advancing. What Friends Say: Can we come and remain? Greatest Embarrassment: The front room is particularly a work-in-advance... what's more, both the format and feel of the room will change significantly. Watch this space! Proudest DIY: Birch employs open-fronted racking units. We have them in the kitchen to show stockpiling jugs and in the examination to hold organizers. We have likewise composed a coat/cap rack in birch utilize and a two-man work area. Aside from that, we are glad for any DIY we do, in light of the fact that as engineers we more often than not have developers to do the messy work! Greatest Indulgence: Artwork. We have a wonderful photo by our companion the craftsman Frances Kearney which is shot on the North Norfolk drift, a place we know well. Additionally a conceptual painting by the Mid-century craftsman Gerard French, which is the primary genuine painting I at any point purchased. We have various other little pieces by companions including the Scottish craftsman John Behm. Best Advice: Take time to become acquainted with the place before you settle the outline; ensure you truly see how you will utilize the space, how the light works, what the genuine issues are. Burn through cash on a couple of keys (things you see and touch the most) and abstain from planning around a preset pattern; pick things you adore. Truly benefit as much as possible from what you have. Dream Sources: first Dibs; Modern Shows for the astonishing great plan and Mid-century pieces; the brocantes of Paris and idea store Merci; any textures from Dedar; and in London, Skandium and Absolute Flowers and Home in Maida Vale for beautiful, one-off, abnormal pieces. Assets  PAINT and COLORS  Kitchen, white: Farrow and Ball Cornforth White  Kitchen, dark: Farrow and Ball Dimity Off-Black  Main room: Sanderson Indigo Blue  Every single other divider: Dulux 00E55  Section  Lights: Plumen  Stool: Artek 60 from Twentytwentyone  Hampers utilized as capacity bushels: Fortnum and Mason  Plywood stag head: Hurn and Hurn  Casings: Habitat Alumnus  Fine art: Untitled by Gerard French  Parlor  Couch: Stella in Graphite from sofa.com  Bookshelf: made by Jeremy utilizing MDF, stainless steel marine links, and polypropylene in 1986  1960s Lurashell Egg seat: classical shop  Tulip side tables: Modern Shows  Divider light: Kaiser Idell in Black by means of Etcetera Vintage  Aluminum goose-neck floor light: old-fashioned shop  Couch pads: Palmeral in Midnight/Green from House of Hackney  Highly contrasting pad: canvassed in Dedar Tangram texture  Cover used to cover revolting old easy chair: IKEA Henny (stopped)  Fine art: Untitled I, 2009, Lambda C-Type print by Frances Kearney  KITCHEN  Pantries: IKEA Ringhult in High-Gloss Gray  Quartz worktop: bespoke by Roann in a matte white wrap up  PH5 pendant light: Twentieth Century Antiques  Round feasting table: old-fashioned shop  Birch utilize racking unit: planned by Jeremy  Seat: Stokke Tripp Trapp from Skandium  Tap: Blanco Alto  Candle: Masterpieces 1087 by Georg Jensen  BEDROOM  Pendant light: 1970s Verner Panton-style Perspex from Modern Shows  Ercol Windsor seat: leftover  Dresser: Perouse from Habitat  Tall kid cabinet unit: Radius from Habitat  Luxurious encircled mirror: rummage  3-entryway bureau: Kartell Componibili from Heal's  Gems bust: Georg Jensen  HENRY'S BEDROOM  Bed: Muji  Bedding: Kissing Robins (ceased) from Anorak  Blue metal star: old-fashioned shop  3-entryway bureau: Kartell Componibili from Heal's  Cinch light: Tommy from Habitat  Visitor BEDROOM  Bed: Tatsuma in Ash from Habitat  1930s Art Deco walnut bedside tables: Dorking House Antiques in Dorking  Metal picture outlines: Alumnus from Habitat  Lavatory  Washbasin: Vero from Duravit  Latrine: Vero from Duravit  Pendant light: Kartell FLY from Heal's  Blue glass bottles: vintage  Succulents close by painted dark pots: Future and Found  STUDY  Birch employ work area and racking unit: composed by Jeremy  Youngster's work area: vintage  Office seats: Mirra from Herman Miller  Seat: Panton Junior from Vitra  Computerized divider clock: 100 Object Mirrors of Silence Time, Daniel Weil, 1984 (produced by Jeremy for Parenthesis Ltd)  Cabinet: IKEA Billy