#torrie talks

all of these will be kastle because i am who i am

the most hits: Remember Me

my multi-chapter 'frank gets amnesia and forgets that he and karen are together' fic. i am so happy with this one.

second most kudos: want you to want me

this is actually super surprising because i don't really care for this one....karen gets a stalker and frank handles it. big on the protective rescued pitbull energy here.

third most comments: Did You Not Flame, & I Catch Fire?

a collection of smaller fics/ficlets/drabbles from tumblr!! the first one is from 2018 which feels absolutely insane to think about.

fourth most bookmarks: If You Were a Fistfight

zombie apocalypse fic. i WILL finish this one day. thanks for anyone still sticking by it!!

fifth most words: all hopeless with old coffee

karen's dad dies, and frank goes with her to vermont to settle things. genuinely love this one so much.

least words: Titles

Oh my god, 2017 torrie...........this is fully 337 words of cringe.

Tan:  You have a whole closet, why do you where the same 3 shirts?

Antoni:  You can’t eat cheeto’s for breakfast, at least have a piece of toast or something, please, you need nutrients

Jonathan:  You realize you need to get a haircut sometimes right?

Bobby:  Have you ever cleaned a room?

uh hey anon this sounds incredible but it actually reminded me of a fic I started like, last year, and I’ve written about 4000 words today so you may be getting something a lil like this soon 👀

Frank crosses his arms and then uncrosses them again. Taps his pant leg with his fingers. Grimaces. “I’ll pick up the cake.”

“And Karen.”

“And…I’ll think about it.”

David waves a hand. “What’s there to think about? I’ll text you the address for the cake. It’s just down the street from her place.”

Frank stops short, narrowing his eyes.

David grins. He looks fucking ridiculous with the patterned shirt and the stain on the chest. “What? I was curious.”

“You look like an asshole,” Frank mutters, petulant.

“Yeah, well, looking like one and being one are two different things and you’ve got the real estate capped on being one, buddy. Go get a girlfriend. Don’t forget the cake.”

and something else from a silly lil thing i’ve been playing around with 😊

He’s sitting in a coffee shop when he catches a glimpse of her name, and his entire body lights up with electricity. It’s an ad in the paper—small, tucked away in between blurring lines of text. Nelson Murdock and Page it reads, and her name sears against his eyelids as if he’s been looking at the sun for too long. There’s a phone number listed beneath, an offer of services.

He’s not going to call the number. He’s not.

His phone—the ridiculously goddamn breakable piece of glass Lieberman talked him into a few weeks ago—sits like a brick in his pocket.

He takes a determined gulp of his coffee. He’s not going to call it. He’s got no reason to call the office of a woman he may or may not have feelings for, after stubbornly closing the door on her feelings all those months ago. That would be—nuts. Crazy.

“Nelson, Murdock and Page,” a familiar voice chimes in his ear, out of the phone in his hand that he doesn’t remember picking up.

Shit.

“Uh,” he says. “Karen?”

There’s a loaded pause. “I’m sorry—“ A shuffle. “—is this—?”

Panic. Pure panic. He tears the phone away and taps the screen rapidly until the call ends. He slaps it onto the table and stares at it helplessly with his lungs aching like he’s just run a mile. What kind of idiot is he? What was he thinking? What the hell’s the matter with hi—

His phone buzzes against the table.