#basically where karens are born

[laurenkmoody]

Allistic person with a question, feel free to ignore if this is derailing/I'm not in my lane.

I was specifically taught all those social/behavioral rules in my childhood, I didn't know them intuitively or whatever.

Am I an outlier? Were y'all (autistic or allistic) taught rules about dress, hair, manners, meals, addressing folks of different status/jobs, etc?

My autistic peeps, I have one bit of advice for you.

Be extremely selective about who you accept social rule feedback from.

Most autistic folks I know tie themselves up in knots, trying to figure out this social rule book that everybody else seems to have gotten, that they didn't get. In fact a lot of the "rigidity" that I see other therapists complaining about can be put down to the natural effects of people trying really hard to find one goddamn rule that will stay put.

The thing is- most people walk around as if they have the one universal, unassailable, common-sense rule book for social interaction.

And they are utterly full of shit.

In the US in particular there is incredibly low consensus about how people should behave. Just go post on twitter about whether it is or is not rude to wear your shoes in someone's house, or as a 70 year old and a 20 year old about phone etiquette. That's before we get into other demographic differences. Don't even get me started on "professionalism".

Neurotypical people get that feedback to, but are, on average, way more able to flag it as either 1) a rule for working with that person/similar people 2) bullshit. NOT as a universal rule they should have already known, that they should feel bad about not already knowing.

The number of things that people actually universally agree on is really low.

So when people give you feedback that the social rule they expect you to follow is obvious, they are often being a total dick.

Ask questions, look for patterns in specific settings, and make sure you've worked on your values enough to have a reasonable ecosystem of guiding principles.

But remember that nobody has that rule book.

[shroomiethefrogwhisperer]

why are humans like this?

Zzgnaru and Karen are walking through the downtown area of Karen's home city. Zzgnaru notices a shop whose sign reads "Tattoo and Piercing." Xey are confused.

"Karen, what is a 'Tattoo and Piercing?'" Xey ask, pointing one of their tentacles at the building. Karen blinks at xem for a moment, and bursts out laughing. She gestures to her arms, which are covered in artistic markings.

"Tattoos are basically just permanent body art. I have over twenty. And piercings are a type of body jewelry." Zzgnaru is still confused. Karen tugs xem into the shop, where a person lies on a table, an artist working on a caterpillar tattoo.

Zzgnaru starts. "Is-is that a needle?" Karen nods. "So you aren't born with those?" Xey ask, shocked. "Yep. And piercings are where you use a needle to put small gems and stuff into your skin. Not permanently, you can take them out." Karen explains.

The person on the table looks up, and recognition flashes over their face. "Karen? Izzat you?" Karen looks over at them, surprised. "Moss? What the fuck, girlypop? I thought you had joined a space crew?" Moss shakes their head, sighing. "Rosatttiiia kicked me off the ship. Said I was 'too confusing.'"

Karen laughs. "Moss, babygirl, you are confusing. You're the most gremlin-y person I've ever met." Moss huffs. Then, Zzgnaru butts in. "Does that hurt?" Xey ask, motioning to the needle. Moss shakes their head. "Nope, not really."

Later, back on the ship, Zzgnaru rants to Steve and two of the Penaconian crew members about how humans are crazy. "The ones with the patterns aren't normal? The unmarked ones aren't albino? What the crap is this, Steve? First Karen bleeds from her genitalia, now this?"

Steve ends up showing them his singular tattoo and explaining that they have ways to ease the pain.

[dragonroilz]

lore written by Ccmaci:

She used to be your typical low brow Karen, but then she tripped into the rabbit hole of really fringe conspiracy. She didn't trust America to train her for the coming thermal nuclear crisis cause they put steroids in the military's food that down the line will turn their children into sleeper-agent-zombies, and she doesn't go to foreign governments because when you get your picture taken for a passport, the flash from the camera imprints your Social Security Number into your brain, a number she believes decodes the subluminal messaging in fast-food commercials that make you want to not question the yearly 0.50 cent price raises for a burger (burgers which are laced with micro-pathogens that cause you to love the concept of being called in for jury duty, obviously).

The only place that was safe place to acquire military training was [insert fake county name here], a legally unrecognized country off the coast of Alaska, with a population of less than 200 people. Obviously, all boats are rigged with ice-berg attracting magnets which go off incase an American hasn't had their daily intake of jury duty micro-pathogens, so swam the coast of Canada as to avoid crossing the boarder where she'd likely be asked to give the Canadian government a sample of her blood (cause we all know what horrors Canadian's can commit with 2 liters of blood from a woman born south of the global hemisphere).

Anyways, so she makes it to the unrecognized country, and thankfully they let her into their militia cause SHE GOT JACKED FROM LITERALLY SWIMMING FROM WASHINGTON TO ALASKA. Obviously she did her homework before this, and was already pretty knowledgeable on basic military concepts like rocket jumping, so this was really just to round out the edges on her proficiency's (that's what she thinks, in reality she really needed this training to be competent lol).

Sadly, after discovering the unrecognized country was literally planning thermal-nuclear-warfare, she decided to leave Alaska, which strangely after she did, all evidence of that legally-unrecognized country ceased to exist. She was later picked up by Mann-Co after being coerced into thinking that she was stopping the enemy from furthering the goals of the shadow-government-fast-food-conglomerate, and as been working with the fem-mercs ever since.

similar to how the mercs lie to normal soldier about all being american, the female mercs lie to female soldier about various beliefs like how they're totally not all vaccinated and all of the rations delivered to them are definitely not inspected by the government. shes particularly distrustful of the scout and medic, the former being a borderline material gorl, and the latter being involved with more than questionable medical practices.

[directdogman]

hi hound, got a question for ya . kind of related to phone sex. Yippee

anyway, so i feel its kind of established in dialtown that being a phone head is equal to being amab, and being a typewriter head is equal to being afab (based on oliver and karens refusal to date types/phones respectively ofc) so i was wondering - what about people born with neither, like karen? would she be considered a form of intersex by society?

followup - how do like. Genetics work? like are they born with specific heads based on their parents (would karen be more likely to have a printer child, for example)?

Appologies for the long and strange questions, your game is rotting me as we speak

anyway, so i feel its kind of established in dialtown that being a phone head is equal to being amab, and being a typewriter head is equal to being afab (based on oliver and karens refusal to date types/phones respectively ofc)

Kiiind of. It's mainly a cultural thing. Basically, the tradition is to assign heads to babies based on the gender assigned at birth. Because of this, someone with a phone head is widely considered by others to be male, and vice versa for typewriters, and this is why many trans people in-universe switch, in the same way as someone might style their hair or change their wardrobe in ours. However, because the heads are modular (and can be changed), it's best to view this correlation as more of a cultural trend rather than a rigid system that everyone follows without exception, one of which I'll explain in the next part of the answer.

what about people born with neither, like karen? would she be considered a form of intersex by society?

Karen actually HAD a typewriter head before she was given the printer. A little bit of background context here: Callum Crown, the inventor of the phone head, invented his first ever cybernetic augmentations (his revolutionary prosthetic limbs) in order to help other disabled people gain mobility and independence. He wanted to give other people the same opportunities that his technology had given him.

When he moved onto the phone head concept, he never forgot about his initial goal of using technology to help people with disabilities. Karen's typewriter head was actually a developmental adaptation. Basically, it allowed a young averbal Karen to produce images, which assisted her in communication before she could learn to speak (and helped her learn to speak sooner than if she had never gotten the upgrade.) While it's quite a modern solution for a disability that wasn't well understood in Crown's time, it's absolutely in line with his philosophies and it's an application he'd be very enthusiastic about, if he was still fully conscious.

Similarly, there are NPCs in-game who have non-standard heads and aren't trans or non-binary, like Rachel at the Dialtown News Network, who has a teleprompter head! In much the same way Karen's head was switched for utility purposes, the same is true for many people who work certain jobs where these heads come in handy. Therefore, I think it's safer to say that someone's head type more or less correlates with their overall identity, with gender, occupation, or any other relevant circumstances factoring into what kind of head they might have.

There's a few NB NPCs in-game and the cultural way many express that is by having hybrid heads, or heads with elements of both phones + typewriters. Take Curie, the curator of the DT Modern Art museum, who has a typewriter head with a phone dial added to it. Gabby (the store clerk who sells phone parts in Uptown Dialtown) also mentions that this practice is common.

followup - how do like. Genetics work? like are they born with specific heads based on their parents (would karen be more likely to have a printer child, for example)?

Genetics don't factor into it outside of the cultural tendency to give phone/typewriter heads based on the gender of the child. Basically, all babies are born with an adapter, and right after birth, the baby is given their new head. Think about how difficult it would be to give birth to someone with a FULL-SIZED typewriter head! There's more than one reason it's set up the way it is, but that's the most important thing to mention. Hope this helps!

[thatonemegafangirl]

Daredevil Theory:

So, basically, I think Karen and Foggy were both blipped, and he went full Ronin like Clint did, tracking down all of Fisk’s remaining allies, as depicted in Echo. When Karen and Foggy came back, Matt had gone down a really dark path, one he didn’t think he could crawl out of, putting him in a dark place, and that is where we pick up with Daredevil Born Again.

[mushysquashythingamajig]

Bucktommy Fluffebruary

DAY 19: SLOW DANCING

@bucktommyfluffebruary

"Your wedding was in a hospital the first time, just so you know." Buck commented as Maddie rearranged the flowers for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I know Evan, that's why it needs to be perfect. Besides why are you here?" Maddie did not stop rearranging the flowers.

Since the wedding had spectacularly gone to shit and the whole 'getting kidnapped by serial killer' was over, thank goodness, she and Chim had decided to hold a delayed reception. A very very delayed reception. Their second child being born type of delayed reception. It was supposed to be a small party, with their family and friends.

Now what she didn't get was why Evan was hounding her. Also the flower decorations, wasn't Mara allergic to these? She needed to call Karen.

"Why? Can't I hang out with my big sister?" Buck lied. Very obviously.

"Evan, I'm fine. I've been going to Dr. Lawrence for several months now, and I've already cried a lot several times. Both with and without Chimney. Trust me, I feel okay." Maddie reassured her brother. Buck didn't really look convinced so she decided to give him a nudge in the right direction.

"Don't you have to get ready for your dance with Tommy?" She lightly teased, enjoying the way the blush crept up his face.

"Y-Yeah." His eyes wandered over to where Tommy and Eddie were setting up the tables, carrying them to their designated positions. Tommy's flannel was basically ripping at the seams from his massive arms as he lifted the table with absolutely zero effort.

He had to look away as soon as he used the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe off the sweat from his forehead, exposing his thick waist that Evan really wanted to run his ton- Nope, nope, nope. If he blushed when Maddie asked him about Tommy, he was currently cosplaying a fire truck right now.

Slowly, people started coming over. Some of Maddie's coworkers, Josh and his new boyfriend, the 118 obviously, Athena and the kids. Basically the whole deal. Ravi 'I came here for the food' Pannikar was chowing down on some absolutely delicious sliders, Athena, Bobby, Maddie and Chim were in a group, taking about something.

"So, you've been avoiding me." Tommy slid up next to him. A few months ago, Evan might've thought that that was cool, but now, he loved the dorky guy more.

"No, I haven't." Evan defended himself, but even he didn't sound convinced. One look from Tommy and it all came spilling out. "Well, turns out I have a thing for you being this good at everything."

Tommy looked him in disbelief for a second before breaking out in a laugh.

"Hey guys." Karen called out.

Both Tommy and Evan waved at her and Hen, who were moving towards them.

"So, are you gonna dance?" Hen asked.

"Well, I didn't get to dance with him the last time. This seems as good as opportunity as any. What about you?" Tommy asked.

"Well, we'll give you the benefit of the doubt because you've never seen it, but we're amazing dancers."

Tommy looked impressed.

"Anyway, we'll see you on the dance floor." She waved just about when Chimney and Maddie completed their dance. Everybody applauded, some even wolf-whistled that Evan had a sneaking suspicion was Eddie.

The floor started filling in and Tommy held out his hand.

"May I have this pleasure?" He asked, all gentlemanly.

"The pleasure is all mine." Evan took hid hand and let him get pulled to the dance floor.

There, the soft music surrounded everyone in a peaceful little private bubble, forgotten to the rest of the world. Tommy was solid beneath Evan's hand, exterior being the complete opposite of his interior.

Tommy and Evan swayed side to side, Tommy's hands wrapped around Evan's waist, Evan's forehead on his shoulder. Evan was being soothed by his soft hums which he wanted to record, just for himself.

This was good, but somehow, the slow dancing back home felt more. Everything felt magnified tenfold. The accidental stepping on each other's feet, the chuckles, the comfortable clothes, the feelings.

"This feels good, right." Evan whispered in his boyfriend's ear.

"Yes. Really good." Tommy's voice was somber. "I'd like to have this one day."

They stopped swaying. Evan looked into Tommy's eyes and saw nothing but sincerity. Nothing but adoration. But love. Evan wanted it too.

"One day." With that, Evan kissed Tommy on the lips, right as the climax of the song hit.

One day, he promised.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

can you imagine country singer reader x billy, and like let’s say their hotel booking messes up while on tour and it’s in readers home state (like tennessee) and she offers to let them crash at her parents place and it’s like on a big ass farm 😭😭. it’s only for like a day or two, until they work out reservations but still. - 🫧

HAHAH THIS IS PERFECT, def giving hannah montana the movie vibes, like crowley corners type vibes.

"Mr. Rockstar"

masterlist.

The band had a huge problem. They were in Tennessee for a show but they accidentally left Warren to make the hotel reservations, so of course when they arrived to the said hotel, they weren't so happy to find out it was a rundown motel in the middle of no where.

Unsure of where else to go, they all headed to a local bar to regroup and figure out what to do.

"How stupid could you be Warren?" Billy says as he puts his bottle of beer down.

"Listen. In my defense it sounded like it was a decent hotel in the ad I saw!"

The entire group groans and rolls their eyes. Nobody knew what to do. The only thought that came to mind was to maybe try to stay in the tour bus.

While everyone was lost in thought, they heard a familar voice. And when Billy looked over at the small stage, he could recognize those cowboy boots, guitar and sweet southern accent anywhere.

Graham leans close to Billy, "Hey isn't that?.."

"Yea. It is her."

There you were, sinigng and dancing on stage, grabbing everyone's attention.

You had met them a few months prior at a photoshoot for Rolling Stone, and ever since then you've had a decent relationship with the band.

While you're on stage, you notice the band in the corner, you do a double take, making sure its really them, then smiling widely you nod towards them, a way to say hi without waving since you're playing your guitar.

Once you finish, you make your way over to them.

"Well look at what the cat dragged in!" you say with a big smile.

Everyone looks happy to see you, especially Billy.

"Well hey there cowgirl" Billy says in a teasing tone.

You roll you eyes and pull up a chair. "So what are you guys doin here?"

"We could ask you the same thing"

You laugh, "Well, this is where I live?"

Everyone looks at you with surprised looks.

"Wait. Aren't you from Nashville? Shouldn't you be there?" Eddie says.

"Nope! I was born and raised right here. Which begs my question from earlier. What are you lot doing here? Shouldn't ya'll be Nashville? Don't ya'll have a show?"

Everyone groans and looks over at Warren.

Karen throws a peanut shell at Warren's head. "Someone made the wrong hotel arrangements."

Warren rolls his eyes and throws one back at Karen, missing completely causing everyone to laught.

"So you guys have no place to stay?"

BIlly nods and lights a cigarrette, "Basically"

"Well...why don't ya'll stay with me? You guys can crash at my parents place til you get your hotel situation figured out"

You watch as the band exchange looks and then nod.

"I mean, it's better than staying at that motel" Daisy says.

You smile widely. "Great! Uh- you guys get your stuff together and meet me outback!" you say at you head towards the back of the bar.

A few minutes later, the band come out and see you standing in front of you light blue truck.

"This is your truck?" Billy says, laughing.

"Why yes it is"

He snickers, he found it funny that you could drive a truck that was bigger than you.

"Load up whatever you guys need to in the back and ya'll can follow behind with your van!" you say as you walk over to the drivers seat to start up the truck.

While the band packs up the back of your truck, Billy goes over to the side of the truck where you are and leans against it.

"So...how have you been cowgirl?" he says in a playful tone, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

You smile, "I've been alright, how've you been Mr. Rockstar? How's tour?"

He flashes a wide grin, 'Mr. Rockstar', that nickname never failed to make him feel things, "Good, I've been good, tour is good, but everything is so much better now that I'm here with you..."

You laugh, a sound that Billy thinks is absoutely angelic. "You flirtin' with me Mr. Rockstar?"

"Depends, is it working?"

You smile, a tint of pink dusting your face, "Maybe...just a little."

He raises his eyebrows, "Just a little?"

You laugh, "Just a little."

Before they can say anything more, Graham calls Billy's name. He lets go of your hair and walks over to Graham.

You tuck you hair behind your ears and shake off..whatever feeling this was. "Uh- just honk when you guys are ready!"

Eventually, you all make it to your family's farm.

You stop your truck and hop out. "Here we are!"

The band unloads from the van and looks around. The farm itself was gorgeous from what they could see. A huge open field, a pretty barn, horse stables, and a beautiful main house. After meeting your mother who is just as (if not more) caring and sweet as you, and your father who is much more stern, and after getting a tour of the beautiful farm grounds, they all settle into the house, Karen and Daisy choosing to stay in the guest room, Warren, Graham and Eddie choosing your older brother's old room, and Billy choosing the living room couch.

It's dark outside, yet you're still outside fiddling with your guitar on the front porch, your notebook of songs next to you.

While you pluck at the strings, Billy appears from inside.

You smile, "Hey there Mr. Rockstar"

He laughs and sits down on the porch couch. "Hey there cowgirl"

"How's everyone? They settle in okay?"

BIlly nods and you smile.

"Good...that's good."

There's moment of silence, only the sound of crickets can be heard.

"It's so...pretty out here." Billy says, gazing up at the stars, "You don't see stars like this in L.A"

You smile and follow his gaze up.

He looks back down and looks over at your notebook and guitar, "Whatcha working on?"

"Just messin' around with some stuff."

He nods and smiles.

You can both feel it. There was clearly something between you two, no matter how much you two jokingly flirt. There was something.

"Y'know, you don't have to sleep on the couch"

"Where else would I sleep then?" he smirks, "Your bed?" he says as he leans close to you, "You trying to get me in bed cowgirl? Wiht your parents in the house? Wow, didn't take you for the type"

You feel heat rush up to your cheeks, "W-What- no! I-I mean- my bed is probably more comfortable than the couch but I don't mean it in that way!"

He lets out a loud laugh, "I'm just messing with you...God you should see your face."

You cover your face with your hands, but he's quick to pull them away.

"Hey...don't go covering that pretty face."

He gazes into your eyes, and you gaze into his. For a moment, it feels like everything disapears. Like it's just the two of you in the world.

Before you know it, he's kissing you.

You're eyes flutter close, and you return the kiss. It feels right. This all feels right.

You both pull away at the same time, both of you have a slight blush on your faces.

"Let's go inside yea?" Billy says, a little breathless.

You nod and stand up, walking back into the house hand and hand with Billy.

"Your room is upstairs?"

You nod again, a millon thoughts running through your head as you go up to your room with Billy.

The rest of the night is innocent enough, flirting, small kisses, and then you two finally fall asleep in each others arms.

A/N: I LOVE COUNTRY SINGER READER SM OMG OMG OMG IM SO WRITING MORE THINGS FOR HER

[beybaldes]

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

djats masterlist

Word Count : 2.1k

Summary : basically my fic they long to be (close to you) with a warren!ending. OR the one where Warren reveals he can't sleep without you anymore.

Warning!! I have not read the book or the show!!! All info I have gathered has been from other x readers I have read. sorry in advance if I have butchered your fav show/book because I have plainly made shit up in favour of satiating my own need for more warren fics xoxo

Moving to LA had been much more isolating then you'd ever thought it'd be. Sure, you'd moved with there with some of your closest friends, but it still felt harrowingly lonely compared to what you were used to in Pittsburgh. In your small hometown, everyone knew everyone, so wherever you went, you saw someone you knew - here, in LA, you felt lucky to accidentally make eye contact with a stranger on the street.

Warren was the number one person happy to fill the needed affection you often sought out since moving to LA. He, himself, was quite the lover - always one to take a cuddle and hold onto a hug for way longer then most would deem appropriate - which was exactly what you needed. The two of you had spent many nights in bed together in LA just for the company of it, and not that you didn't like it, you just wished it was with someone else, instead.

"You coming to bed, sweet girl?" Warren asked with a tired drawl to his words, extending a hand out to you while the other held the remainder of his joint to his lips.

"In a little." You hummed back, taking a hit out the joint he offered out to you, the joint being held to your lips by Warren instead of taking it into your own hands. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

Warren pulled the joint back to his lips, his other hand coming to brush your hair out of your eyes and behind your ear, his hand resting against your hair and keeping you tucked in the crook of his neck. "You want me to wait up with you? Or you can come keep my company? I'll put on some Fleetwood Mac, it'll help you sleep, baby girl."

That was another thing that you missed about Pittsburgh; the constant nicknames you let the others call you. Back in Pittsburgh, everyone had some kind of name to call you except the one you were born with. Now? Karen called you sweet-pea, Eddie called you birdie, Camilla called you sunshine as did Graham and even Billy, but Warren? Warren called you whatever he liked; sweet girl, baby girl, baby, doll, his.

"No, it's okay Warren, you go to bed." Warren scooped you up in his arms, placing you down in the spot next to Graham who had already opened up his blanket for you, then pressed a kiss to your cheek. "I'll leave the door open for you."

You let your head fall to Graham's shoulder, who pulled his arm out from between the two of you and wrapped it over the back of the sofa. He allowed you to tangle your legs up in his pyjama covered ones, making sure you were comfortable before he turned his attention back to the tv screen.

"You and Warren are sleeping together?" Karen had been the one brave enough to ask, the conversation between the two of you not unnoticed by the rest of the group - it being the only thing to break the silence in the past 40 minutes. 

All heads turned to you, attention suddenly on something that had the potential to be more interesting then the rerun of Scooby-doo that had just started. "Not like that." You answered softly, eyes still focused on the cartoon dog and his gang on friends, not noticing how everyone else was now looking at you. "We both just like the company of it. I don't think either of us realised how lonely it would be coming out to LA."

"Cute." Camilla mused, a warm smile curling on her lips as she took in that even in your sleep you were reaching out for the touch and warmth of someone else.

"You're always welcome in my bed, sweet-pea." Karen added, a smile curling on her own lips as she managed to take your attention away from the tv. "I swear you run cold. Would be nice in the LA heat."

"You can't steal my blanket buddy." Graham gasped, pulling you tighter against him and furiously tucking the blanket around the two of you. "She's the perfect amount of cold. The windows open, with the blanket, with y/n is the perfect temperature for me."

"I'm going to have to pass on that one Karen, unless you want to come down to my room." You countered her offer with a soft smile, attention moving back to the tv once more. "Warren says your room is haunted."

Laughter spread through out the room as you sided with Warren even in his absence; he was so sweet to you, and that's what friends do, so how could you not?

"What?" You asked, laughing yourself. "We left it empty until your arrival for a reason." That caused another round of laughter to break out in the room, everyone enjoying the way the two of you were slowly but surely morphing into one person with the more time you spent confined in the LA rental.

A particularly loud shout of "scoob!" from the TV had everyone's attention turned back to the cartoon, letting the nature of your relationship with Warren lie for at least the time being.

By the end of the third episode, only you, Graham and Eddie remained in the room. Graham was fast asleep, his head leaning against yours making you trapped in his hold, and Eddie was sat in the armchair against the wall, legs curled into the seat and a bottle of warm beer in his hands that he'd been nursing for the last half an hour.

As the intro to the next rerun of Scooby-doo blasted from the TV, Graham startled awake, literally jumping out of his seat and pulling the blanket with him. He grumbled some attempt at what you thought was a goodnight, and stumbled sleepily out of the room, the warmth of him and the blanket leaving you alone on the couch.

Eddie got up from his seat without a word, joining you on the couch with his arm stretched over your shoulders and across the back of the couch cushions.

"I know you like him." Eddie teased, letting his arm fall around you and pull you into his side. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over the two of you, trying to keep you warm now that Graham had stolen your provisos blanket. "I can tell, I think we all can."

"Everyone except Warren, I guess." You complained, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, taking the warm beer he held in his hands and having a sip of it.

"He likes you too you know." Eddie laughed at the face of disbelief you pulled, taking the beer back from you to have another sip for himself. "All I'm saying is, you don't see me in his bed every night, and he likes me just fine."

You hummed into him, tucking your head away from the light of the tv screen, thinking about what Eddie was suggesting. His fingers moved to run through your hair, soothing you to sleep even if he hadn't meant to.

It wouldn't be the first time you had ended up in this predicament, you and Eddie cuddled up together on a couch in someone's living room, the night having gotten away from you. But it was the first time since coming to LA, the first time since you'd basically moved into Warren's bed, and if it weren't for the fact you were already half asleep, you would've felt sick about it.

Eddie wasn't far behind you when it came to falling asleep, his fingers shortly stilling and beer left half drank and held loosely between his fingers.

As people slowly began to filter into the living room the following morning, you made yourself plenty comfortable in Eddie's lap - instead of taking up the whole couch - allowing him to wrap an arm around your waist and hold you up and against him by your thighs. You lazily tuned into the conversation everyone else seemed to be having, mainly focused on eating the bowl of cereal Camilla had given you and the feeling of Eddie's fingers toying with the hem of your shorts. Picking up another spoonful of food, you offered him a mouthful, him taking it with a grateful smile.

"I thought you and Warren were sleeping together?" Billy asked, gesturing at you and Eddie with the tip of his spoon accusingly.

"And I thought we discussed this last night." You deflected with a shrug. Everyone apparently knew of your feelings for the curly haired brunette according to Eddie, but that didn't mean you had to admit them to them. It would only give them more ammunition to tease you with anyways. "Me and Ed's stayed out here last night, tried to stay up watching scooby-doo but failed, that's all."

"You and Ed's, huh." Graham asked, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"You're just jealous that she doesn't have a cute nickname for you." Eddie spat back, quickly coming to your defence as you offered him another bite of your cereal.

Scanning your eyes around the room, you took notice of the lack of a certain member of the sixes presence. "Where is Warren, actually?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Graham teased, earning a smack on the chest from Eddie who came to your defence as you left the room, leaving him with your cereal and an unusually rowdy Graham.

You crept into Warren's room, quiet as a mouse, hoping not to wake him up as you made your own way to bed. Despite your claim last night, you headed over first to the record player in the corner, pulling out your Fleetwood Mac vinyl and skipping to where Rhiannon should start. Turing the volume down enough that it wouldn't go outside the room but would reach you from Warren's bed. Cracking open the window just enough to let in a cool breeze, you finally got into what had become your side of Warren's bed.

No sooner then you'd lied down and turned on your side to slowly wake him, Warren was cosying himself into your side, nuzzling into your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, intertwining your fingers.

"I didn't mean to wake you, m'sorry." You murmured, wiggling your arm out of his hold to wrap it over him, tangling your fingers in his mess of curls. You scratched gently at his scalp, Warren preening into your touch, yearning for it. "Well I did actually, but not like this, it's nearly 9."

"You didn't wake me, sweet girl." He purred, pressing a kiss, then another, then another to your shoulder. "Can't sleep without you, just been sat here all night trying to."

"Warren." You whined, shuffling to face him better at his confession. "You should've said so. I would've come with you when you first asked. You could've come to get me."

"I didn't want you to think I was needy." He whispered, avoiding your eyes as he busied himself in trying to get comfy now that you were in his arms again. "Plus, when I did come out to get you, you seemed pretty cosy with Eddie."

"We just fell asleep watching tv, that's all." You promised, feeling as a smile creeped onto Warren's face at your admission. "Nothing else. If I didn't have the blanket I would've come here, to you. I promise."

"You're here now, baby girl. That's all that matters to me." Warren was already dropping asleep, his need for it catching up quickly now that your presence was beside him, now that he was safe in your arms. "All that matters."

At your lack of response, Warren began to move, exhibiting the most life you'd seen in him since you'd walked into the room minutes ago. "C'mere hot stuff." Warren opened his arms to you, letting you shuffle down until your head rested against his chest and your arms were wrapped under his, going up his back and holding onto his shoulders from behind.

You gently scratched your fingers up and down his back, lulling him to sleep just as he was lulling you sleep with the soothing circles he was rubbing into your hip. You were quick to fall asleep again in his hold, as you did every night in Warren's bed, as did Warren, who, like he'd just admitted, couldn't sleep without you in his arms.

[tokyo-tower-symbolism]

What does Karen mean when she says "I am Reborn"?

Revue Starlight takes place in a time loop. 

For over 60 years, eight students from Seisho’s acting class continue to audition to be the lead in the Starlight Gatherer, each hoping to use the brilliance awarded to the top star to fulfill their wish to perform on the Stage of Fate. And in each of those loops, very little changes. The same leads are chosen, the same wish is made, and Aijou Karen is at the bottom of the rankings every time. 

Nothing changes until one loop where Kagura Hikari transfers to their school from London and replaces Karen as one of the eight participants in the audition, and suddenly everything is changing.

Hikari’s return lights a spark in Karen. The childhood promise they made to perform on stage together is the closest it’s ever been to happening, and Karen refuses to waste this chance.

In the first episode, we don’t get a very flattering picture of Karen. Her roommate struggles to wake her up to get to morning practice, Karen is stiff as a board while stretching, she’s not taken seriously by her classmates at all, and she can’t even picture herself ever beating Maya or Claudine for the lead roles in the play. Don’t get me wrong, her classmates all like her and honestly she’s really funny to watch, but everyone is here because they want to be the star, not to fool around.

It comes to a head when the giraffe who runs the underground auditions points it out. She’s not desperate like the other girls so she has no chance of winning. He says that there is no place for someone like Karen to have a chance at that dream stage. 

But Karen doesn’t care. She ignores the giraffe entirely and jumps on stage to join Hikari. And as she falls, she undergoes a transformation, going from her school uniform to the revue outfit.

There’s a lot to be said about the transformation sequence, like how quick and mechanical and impersonal everything is. Machines sew the costumes and get everything ready and makeup is briefly applied. It’s all the work that would usually be given to the school’s Class B, which works on all the backstage stuff, like the props and the sets and the costumes. They’re out of focus a lot of the time and we only really focus on two characters from Class B, but they still exist! They’re friends with the main class A actors and in the movie it’s because of a speech the director of the play gives that the main characters decide to stand up on stage again. But they don’t matter to the audition. It only cares about the top star.

There’s also how the uniforms are mass manufactured and the very important star buttons, which signify victory or defeat so basically life or death, are unceremoniously tossed in a box, showing how disposable the rest of the stage girls are in creating the top star. Honestly the whole thing is kind of sinister in hindsight once you understand the true nature of the auditions.

But the part that’s all Karen is when she jumps and in the background it says: I am reborn.

Because Karen completely reinvents herself. She goes from getting sweeped in a low dip by Junna in their daily life to doing the same to her in the revue. In the following episodes, she starts waking up early, taking practice seriously, she changes her classmates' worldviews after defeating them, and she even beats Claudine and Maya to earn a lead role in the Starlight Gatherer. Nana specifically says that all the changes in this loop stemmed from Karen, despite Hikari’s appearance being the first major difference.

And in the climactic final revue of the show, Karen is only able to reach Hikari by stating that she will constantly be reborn if it means she can stand on stage with her. That Karen doesn’t mind getting her brilliance stolen or being trapped in the stage of fate or whatever terrible fate might befall her if she sticks with Hikari since each time she will get back on stage, born anew.

But what exactly does it mean to be reborn as a stage girl?

Well first, in order to be reborn you need to die, so let’s start there. And in the show, we see two dead stage girls.

The first is Hikari after she lost the audition in London and had her brilliance stolen. As a result, she loses all interest in the stage and can hardly remember why she bothered trying so hard to become the lead in her school’s play. But what snaps her out of this is remembering her promise to stand on stage with Karen, and how disgusted she is in herself that she almost forgot it. In a desperate attempt to reclaim what she lost, she goes to participate in the Tokyo audition since the winner will steal the brilliance of all the participants to make the stage of fate and become the untouchable top star. Unfortunately the one flaw in her plan is that Karen is also in the audition, so even if Hikari did win, she would also be stealing Karen’s brilliance, making it so their promise could never be kept regardless.

Hikari continues to be dead as a stage girl despite being a participant in the Tokyo Auditions. Although her technical skills are perfect, Maya in the first episode mentions that her heart’s not in it, which we later find out is because Hikari had lost her brilliance. This can be seen in her revue outfit in London compared to now. Over there, she had a sword and a red cape just like everyone else. But now her blade is shortened to a dagger’s length and her cloak is blue, the color of her promise which is her true desire here instead of the red of the top star that everyone else desires.

But Hikari is eventually reborn. By the time of her revue with Nana, Hikari has changed. She’s no longer pushing everyone away and has actually started to make friends with everyone and told Karen how dear their promise is to her as well. Even though Hikari only came here as a step on her path to become a top star and one day fulfill her promise with Karen, she’s instead inspired by Karen that the two of them could shine as top stars together here. Her entire worldview is completely changed, and in this Revue against someone who is in the audition not for a love of acting, but to instead use it as a stepping stone for her own ambitions, just like Hikari, her brilliance is reborn. Hikari’s weapon transforms, not back into the sword from before, but into a new dagger with a string that Hikari can use to maneuver herself and a star shaped hilt, similar to her hairpin, a symbol of her promise with Karen.

She’s not the same as she was before she died as a stage girl, but she’s reborn as someone new with a brand new outlook on life.

And the next dead stage girl we see in the show is Karen herself.

After Hikari wins the audition, she refuses to use the brilliance of the other participants to create the stage of fate, and instead offers to create it herself. This doesn’t really work and Hikari is trapped there for months in a Sisyphean effort where she attempts to build the Starlight Tower but it is destroyed over and over again because it’s impossible to put on a play alone.

But outside the Stage of Fate, no one knows what happened to her. Life goes on, but Karen is constantly searching for Hikari but has no luck. In the meantime Karen has lost the motivation she had back when Hikari transferred in. Even though she can say her lines perfectly during practice, there is something missing that everyone can tell. Her heart’s just not in it anymore. Karen even wonders why she’s been trying so hard all this time. It’s the spitting image of Hikari in London after she lost her brilliance. Even though no one stole it from her this time, without Hikari out there, Karen has no motivation to stand on stage.

But with no clues left to find where Hikari has gone, Karen instead has to understand Hikari. She reads Hikari’s Starlight Gatherer book in the original English like Hikari did. It’s hard and she needs a dictionary to translate it, but she puts in the effort to understand Hikari and why she left.

And on her way to confront Hikari once more with this new understanding, she is guided by her classmates. In the background the song “Knowledge of a Stage Girl” is played as each of them tells Karen what being on stage means to them.

Karen is reborn and ready to face Hikari after being dead as a stage girl, and it’s only because her worldview changed after understanding everyone else. Karen at the end of episode 10 couldn’t have convinced Hikari, she was absolutely blindsided then and had no idea what Hikari was doing. But now Karen was ready after having understood a variety of perspectives.

Because that’s what being reborn is, to change yourself. You will never be anyone other than yourself. But every time you understand someone, learn from someone, or get inspired by someone, you are reborn. You suddenly see a path someone else took that you hadn’t thought of before. You’re suddenly given a whole new way of life to live. You can be reborn as someone brand new. And even if you choose to stay exactly the same, you’ve still grown since you now know they exist.

When the stage is reborn in the final revue of the show, it’s only because Karen offered a new ending: that after falling, Flora ascended up the tower once more to meet the trapped Claire. Karen couldn’t change the past, she can’t make it so Flora and Claire never ascended the tower in the first place, she can’t make it so the two of them never took part in these auditions, but she can change what's gonna happen next.

This is also seen in the movie. Throughout the movie, Karen is wandering along a train track and reminiscing on how she became a stage girl. We see Hikari and Karen’s first meeting and the first play they saw with each other. We see how Karen had been the lead in her middle school plays and took dancing and singing lessons ever since elementary school. We see how she had to give up video games and hanging out with her friends so she could get into one of the best acting schools in the world. We see how scared she was that Hikari might have forgotten their promise. 

And once Karen arrived at the end of the tracks, she decides to give up on the stage, having realized that she had fulfilled her dream to shine as the lead with Hikari and now there is nothing left for her future on the stage. So Karen dies as a stage girl, for real this time. It’s still a metaphor but it’s real, her body goes limp in front of Hikari and there is tomato juice everywhere.

It’s real bad. Hikari starts crying and cradling Karen in her arms, which is a big departure from how stoic she usually is. But Hikari is finally truthful about why she left, having been symbolically reborn herself, and she tells Karen her true feelings, that she wants Karen to come back to the stage where she is waiting.

Karen falls again, and just like the first time she transformed, it even has the sign behind her that says I am reborn.

Her body rides down the tracks on a train, reliving the memories and burning up everything she already gave up before. But this time when she returns to the end, she is alive and reborn. The circumstances are all the same as before, she still fulfilled her dream and has nothing left. As she later says, she’s the emptiest she’s ever been. But she’s here now, all because Hikari said she was waiting for her, and that’s enough of a reason to stand on stage.

This is just like the first episode, where the only difference from all the other loops was that Hikari was there, and that’s all Karen needed to change and be reborn.

Because Karen can’t redo her whole life. Even within the time loop everything happened more or less the same each time. Karen already gave everything she had into acting and fulfilling her promise. Like the song playing in the background says, “I would be reborn as myself.” 

It’s not like she ever acted differently to try and become the top star, she doesn’t imitate Maya or Claudine or any other top star. She is unabashedly herself, always kind and energetic. The only difference is that she’s just more focused and motivated and understanding with each rebirth because the only thing she can change is what she is going to do right now, and that’s what it means to be reborn. 

Karen is transformed over the course of the revue, her sword snaps and her future is changed. She gains a better understanding of herself and why she stands on stage. And instead of desiring to stand beside Hikari on stage again, or longing for the stage that had already passed, she finds a new ambition, and chooses to stand against her as rivals who won’t lose to each other. And as established in a previous revue (that Karen wasn’t there for), the revue of rivals never ends, no matter how far apart their stages are. So instead of giving up on the stage like she said prior, we see the reborn Karen auditioning for a brand new role during the credits.

Revue Starlight is all about these little transformations. As the stage girls take part in each of the revues, they learn a little bit more about each other, which helps them learn more about themselves. They grow and change because they clash with each other, and become stronger for it. The giraffe changes from the proctor to becoming a bunch of fruits and vegetables, symbolically the fuel they need to ascend to the next stage instead of using each other’s brilliance. The revues themselves change from being part of an audition to being entirely for the girl’s satisfaction, with previous win conditions such as cutting the brooch or claiming position zero becoming worthless as they move on to bigger things.

And all of this was a choice. The first choice was that Hikari didn’t want to give up on her dream with Karen, so she got back on stage. The next choice was that Karen wanted to stand on stage with Hikari, even if she wasn’t part of the auditions. In the movie, everyone else gets the chance to see themselves as a dead stage girl. At first they are in shock, but then they hear a speech from the director about how they are all scared together. And after that, each of them chooses to get back on stage despite the risk, because they aren’t facing it alone.

In the final revue of the show, Karen said that every time she gets on stage, she is reborn. And we saw that! Before every revue, Karen had her “I am Reborn” transformation sequence. And it’s not just her, in the recap movie, the other stage girls didn’t get the full transformation sequence, but they did get an “I am Reborn” card before their revues. Because everytime a stage girl chooses to stand on stage, someone else is there. Someone else is going to be facing them in the revue. Someone else will be acting across from them, or will be supporting them off the stage. And even when they are apart, they are going to be thinking of each other.

Even from the very beginning, the reason that any of them chose to stand on stage was because of someone else. Maybe they were inspired like Karen, Hikari, or Junna. Maybe it was expected of them like Maya, Kaoruko, or Mahiru. Or maybe it was because someone else was already there, like with Futaba, Claudine, or Nana. And sometimes it’s a mix because people are complex and have so many different reasons for doing anything they do. 

But still, they chose to do it, to change and to take a risk and put it all out there and accept whatever comes with it.

And that is what it means to be reborn.

[astroyongie]

Why Am I This Way - Psychology Answers

Note: Another one <3 we are almost done with the How Am I section !!

“How Am I” Section

“Am I Really A Good Person?”

What happens in the unconscious brain: 

To start off, it's important that we understand that being wrong and right are social constructs and they will depend on your cultural background, on you ethnic and the way you were born and social class.

Now these feelings of being a good person, of caring from the social norms and looks come from childhood where the family plays an essential role on how we want to be cared for and loved.

In a dysfunctional family they usually have a closed system. For any interest in these topics you can always check the works that are based on little information and the resources are shared between the family members (communication isn't used often). In this cases (these families) communication tend to be rare and the rules of the family are usually strict and not just, working in the favor of the parent authority 

In contrary, in a functional family, the system us open and the information and the ressources shred is shared through communication between the family 

Basically in dysfunctional families the rules are not said. They learn in silence. In function, the parent actually verbalizes the good and the wrong.

back on the dysfunctional family, the communication is so fragile and limited that the little things that are said are usually harsh, violent and painful to the child (for example the child is make a mistake, the parent will proceed with accusatory screaming or physical abuse)

Because of this, the children who got raised in such an environment learn to mold themselves to reach security. They are always weary of their environment and they tend to read people to accommodate and adapt their behaviors. 

Basically they learn to recognize a bad action and a good acio based on their parents' punishments and because of that they tend to always please others or provoke a better reaction in their counterpart to avoid the violence.

These children (from dysfunctional families) can develop four types of communication patterns when evolving with other people. Those are: 

“Appeased” : they are people pleasers and they will put a lot of effort in for that to happen during arguments. To be a good person they use extreme generosity by neglecting themselves and their needs (because their parents have neglected them so much so why shouldn't they do the same?)

“Accuser”: A mirroying of narcissistic parenting/ defensive category. People like that will try to manipulate the situation and turn the tables to avoid being on the receiving pain end. They try to be a good person by using reverse psychology 

“Congruent”: the person is aware of their surroundings, they are aware of signals that can be potentially triggering. These types of people when arguments happen tend to use verbal and non verbal communication at the same type to smooth the situation and avoid being hit. more of a “fight” response to avoid panic and be a good person.

“Evasive”: they are usually people that often retreat in arguments. They will keep themselves shut because they have learnt that speaking will bring them more pain so they usually try to keep themselves shut and repress emotions in order to be the good person. some of them can also use humor as a mechanism 

Usually people that are always questioning their worth as a good people come mostly from a dysfunctional family weather neglect and violence were the main resource and where the people had to learn strategies to survive in that environment

if you are interested in more of these topics you can check the works of Virginia Satir and Karen Horney

So what can we do?

We cannot allow the limited perceptions of others define us

You need to understand that you have lost touch with your inner self in order to avoid conflict. the important here is to learn that arguments and conflicts are often necessary to solve the issues and they are important to communicate feelings and that one should not stop putting their fears first and take time to open up

now this is hard but with therapy and the right relationship, this gets easier and those behavioral patterns can be changed

There’s also the need to stop blaming yourself for everything and prioritize your happiness. 

Learn to say no, learn to stand for yourself and believe that you are worth more than what the dysfunctional family provided. you are worth love

and no, you're not a bad person you are just hurt

Now, you know where to work to become a better version of yourself 

[formerheroeswhoquittoolate]

deep breath I've got thoughts about the daredevil show because I think they have the opportunity to do the most daredevil thing possible and I really really want them to do it. (edit: this post is about sam chung/blindspot by the way, sorry to anyone who reblogged it thinking it was about like. spiderman or whatever)

the thing about daredevil is that a lot of his really good stories (at least in my opinion) are tragedies. karen page's death. elektra's death. that whole thing where he has a great life being out as matt murdock And daredevil but it's actually shit and the purple children have to put the cat back in the bag. killing a guy and going to jail. becoming a catholic priest who runs a foster home and still never being free from daredevil. basically the entirety of charles soule's daredevil run. "unavoidably bad things happen to matt murdock/daredevil because he is matt murdock And because he is daredevil" is kind of the name of the game.

matt has depression. even when things are going well, there's a weight to daredevil stories. he -- and we -- are all just. waiting. for the other shoe to drop.

look at me. what if there was a young vigilante that daredevil was training. what if he was trying to help the kid become a hero, protect his neighborhood like daredevil protects hell's kitchen. what if matt grows to like the kid, starts looking after him, gets him a job when he gets injured. begins to trust him. the kid becomes a light in the dark story that daredevil always has. irreverent and determined and utterly brilliant.

but we know what's coming.

do you see what I'm saying? can you see the proverbial sword of damocles, hanging over the narrative? the unavoidable catastrophe that is just a few episodes away? the knowledge that we are going to watch this kid lose his eyes, lose his family, and get nothing in return for his intelligence and perseverance and loss.

the tragedy of daredevil is not in plot twists. it's in inevitability. the long fingers of grief, the anticipation of more trials to come. matt is job, ceaselessly tested to see if he is worthy of an imitation of what he once had. he is peter, drawing a sword to protect something he doesn't fully understand, something they will kill him for in the end. daredevil stories do not have happy endings, and the tragedy is contagious.

all this to say: I hope sam chung ends up in daredevil: born again, exactly as he is in soule's original run. I hope we get to see him fly as blindspot, and I hope the inevitable fall is foreshadowed. I hope the first time we see blindspot, he's saving three people. I hope he gets two black eyes in a fight. I hope there are tricks of the light that make his eyes glow blue or appear entirely gone. I hope he borrows matt's iconic glasses and makes a joke about going blind. I hope we are forced to remember his tragedy every time we see him.

put him in the show, cowards

[windywriter]

Headcanon's abt Karen Kuroawa bc they could never make me hate her.

TLDR: I think Karen's story should have mirrored Emma's since at the beginning Emma's arc was hinted to be that she wanted be "grown up" to match the people around her but Wakui just fucking gave up.

I think Karen's father was stationed at a military base while her mother was a citizen. She dropped out of highschool to be with her boyfriend (Mr.Kurokawa) and the two of them ran away from home. Things were fine the first few years. There were tough times sure, but that's nothing a night on the town couldn't fix. It was just the two of them against the world.

Eventually Mr.Kurokawa got a job where he would frequently travel. Particularly to the Philippines. That was a lie. And one day he came back from a trip, not just holding a briefcase, but an infant Izana. Maybe he just dropped Izana on Karen and left. Maybe he pressured her into taking care of the child. She's a woman after all, isn't it only natural that she take care of children? Or maybe he begged her to take Izana in. Saying that he may have messed up but the boy didn't deserve to suffer. But despite the sudden and drastic change, I think Karen learned to genuinely love Izana as her own.

I think she was used to being looked down upon for being "different" or "foreign". So, I think she tried to make it so Izana never felt like that.

Then she heard her husband died. And while she may have thought "Good riddance" the tears that poured down her cheeks said otherwise.

And after a night of drinking, she met Makoto Sano. Emma being the result of that meeting. And I think Karen tried her best. She had already raised Izana, so this should be fine. Right?

Two weeks passed after Emma was born and Karen Kurokawa was the talk of the town. "If they're really her children, why do they look so different?" "Where's her husband?" "Can she really take care of them?"

It also didn't help that Makoto had died and, in his grief and rage, Mansaku Sano had basically cut all contact with Karen leaving her with almost nothing. I like to think she didn't even know he was dead until she saw it in the newspaper.

I think eventually things just hit a breaking point where Karen just could not keep up with things. The whispers, the stares, it all hit a breaking point where she just couldn't take it anymore.

I think she gave up Izana first, due to a mixture of societal pressure and as a sort of "test" for herself. Could she really go through with it. And, I guess she could. And you could argue that after giving up Izana, Karen soon left Emma at the Sano household. But I think she tried to be with Emma for at least a year or two. They were blood related after all. So, that should be "normal" right?

But as time passed, I think Karen began to see pieces of her younger self in her daughter. Her innocence and naivete, all things Karen lost long ago. It didn't help that Emma was her spitting image either.

I think the reason Emma's abandonment was colder compared to Izana was because Karen was just kind of on autopilot. She was a failure and this was the last straw. She probably cut a deal with Mansaku where in exchange for leaving Emma with the Sano family she'd never try to make contact with them or her daughter ever again. Mansaku also probably gave her some money as further incentive.

And while in her final appearance she may have been all dolled up, wearing fancy clothes and floral perfume, does this really look like the face of a mother who's "happy" to abandon her daughter? And I genuinely don't trust the wiki.

Once Emma was given away, I think Karen simply returned to her old habits. After all, "there's nothing a night on the town couldn't fix." And maybe, as time passed, Karken Kurokawa simply became bitter. The "sweet" memories she had of the past clarifying and condensing until she was forced to realize how absurd and meaningless they were. After all, she was a girl who tried to grow up too fast and became nothing more than a rotten adult.

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: Hope you like this. I feel this does Shadow, Rouge, Omega and Maria justice.

Tell me what you think when you get a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Voice Cast:

Shadow: Kirk Thornton

Maria Robotnik: Stephenie Sheh

Rogue The Bat and Abe: Karen Strassman

E-123 Omega and The G.U.N. Commander: Roger Craig Smith

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Sonic X Shadow Generations - Dark Beginnings; https://youtu.be/S7RTnNygRqE?si=7wV1L1r5lx9u2bj9

The choreography for the fight scenes are incredibly snappy, and Shadow, Omega, and Rouge have that great Team Dark synergy going again. The fact that Rouge wants to manipulate Shadow into doing something as silly as attending Sonic's Birthday Party is kind of funny, but I really doubt Shadow would go otherwise, so fair enough.

Omega constantly calling dibs and being upset when Shadow gets to explode a robot is pretty fun, and Shadow actually visibly pulling the escape pod lever to evacuate the G.U.N. mook was a really nice touch.

Commander Abe grew so much as a character off screen than he did in Shadow the Hedgehog, it's almost insane. But I love that they're paying attention to their own lore here. Also while Shadow was technically in stasis for 50 years, I like that they're still treating the loss of Maria as something that affects him like it's fresh. Because there's still so much that happened between then and now in the time Shadow has been awake, and in a lot of ways he only regained the memories of losing Maria recently on top of a lot of new trauma. So, like. I guess I'm just glad they're letting Sonic characters have realistic trauma again. Like, the comics are notorious for having Sonic's actual children literally disappeared from the timeline because timeline and time travel shenanigans meant they were literally never born, and Sonic has to tank that emotional hit with, like, the sadness of a guy that lost his favorite record collection in a fire and not, like A PARENT THAT HAD ALL HIS CHILDREN DIE IN A FREAK ACCIDENT. "Oh but it all turns out okay in the end they just get born later." NO. Sorry those are totally new kids and even if they were cell for cell the exact same kids that doesn't justify Sonic not being allowed to experience the crushing anguish he definitely would experience because "Sonic's not that kind of character and can't be too sad."

Like, nah, actually. They are funny little haha bouncy super-fast alien hedgehogs but they are STILL FUCKING PEOPLE. You do not get to put one of the literally hardest things a human can experience in the narrative and have the character shed 3 tears and shrug it off. "Oh but it's for kids--" who will grow up into adults and who will lose people important to them. Painting a character who is meant to be a children's role model as a guy who either can or HAS TO shrug off that kind of pain is basically telling kids "you might go through literally the hardest thing there is to experience in life. Don't cry too hard about it okay?" Like FUCK THAT. Not to even mention adult audiences that clearly read the material too who, you know, might ALSO have had such a terrible thing happen to them and the narrative barely gives that thing space to breathe before they go "Okay, everything's fixed now!"

So, yeah, I'm always going to be a little salty with narratives treating death as this cheap thing they can throw in to be like "oh a bad thing happened, but it's gonna be okay." As if death is a thing that exists for 10 seconds and then you get over it. I dunno, I've just never wanted death in narratives as something treated cheaply which is why in my own work I always think long and hard about whether characters need to die, even in my fanfic where my ultimate retcon is usually bringing a dead guy back to life. So I guess I just have mad respect for games and movies and shows that take this shit seriously. I know for a long time movies and games and shows for kids were supposed to be pure entertainment. The bad guy dying is just a way to eliminate the danger, the death of parents or community members or the fridging of women all serve as motivation for the heroes but aren't given much consideration beyond that, or death isn't mentioned at all and characters are subjected to fates worse than death so that darker themes can fly under the radar. And while I think it's noble and perfectly natural to want some children's media that focuses more on the adventure, pleasure, and fun of life and the narrative makes no allusion to or mention of death, I feel like we get so much of the other side of the coin too, where death is a flourish for easy fear and anguish that get plastered over with a happy ending but you're still not asked to consider it.

I think we get very little media that actually addresses something that most humans will go through. The deaths of people they care about. Even natural, expected, quiet deaths are painful. And it feels kind of strange that instead of offering audiences a safe and comfortable place to grapple with that unpleasantness, a lot of media asks us to skirt past it because it assumes doing so avoids the most unpleasantness and pain. And I really don't think it does. Grief, I think, is like a buckshot wound, and you have to do a lot of picking around in painful places to get all the bits and pieces out before any healing can happen. I'm not saying all media needs a designated 2 hour crying session where they play sad music and invite you to mourn the character that died or whomever in your life you have unresolved grief about. But I am saying that I think it's cowardly to not allow the deaths of important characters to haunt the narrative.

I recently had the opportunity to watch the Sonic movie. I know, I'm massively late to the party. I waited for it to show up on Netflix because that's the only streaming service I currently have and I'm morally opposed to and economically prevented from having 12 different subscription services just to watch everything as soon as it releases or else pay every time I want to see something in theaters no matter how old or new it is. And it's a good movie. But it bugged me a bit that the movie spent so little time on Longclaw. We skip all but the direct impact she had on Sonic. Maybe it gets addressed in the second movie. And I know a lot of time passes and it's meant to be his backstory, but we spend so little time absorbing that Sonic was chased out of his home and his initial mother figure literally died or at least seemed to die saving him. She lives on through the advice Sonic follows to stay safe on earth. But we're really expected to believe this tiny kid tanked both the loss of his home and his adoptive mother that easily? The only real resolution we get for that is the parallel of Tom thinking of leaving Green Hill and Sonic being shaken up by that because Tom is thinking of choosing to leave his home when Sonic himself had no choice in that. Longclaw gets one or two passing mentions.

We never see a body in the first movie so I'm assuming it's entirely possible they bring her back later on and they don't want us getting too sad about a character that isn't actually dead. But it still bugs me.

I suppose it's a personal thing for me, but I've always felt like if I have to or want to cause people pain in a narrative, I need to have a reason for it beyond "that's how you make this narrative work, that's the way stories are written." Then again, I'm the sort of person that almost unilaterally writes fluff and fix it fics, so maybe those are just the stories that resonate with me most. Maybe those are the stories I need, and everyone else needs stories where the narrative isn't haunted by characters long past. But, then again I resonated with Shadow before I even lost a grandparent, so maybe it's very little to do with personal circumstance at all. Maybe I just like suffering, any and all suffering, to be acknowledged for what it is and to ask the audience to consider the unfairness of a world where suffering exists because maybe it's just in my nature to want to beg the same from others, to consider how the world is unfair in the hopes that enough of us thinking about it will help the world to change.

[palepinkgoat]

Today we're talking about birthdays! BECAUSE ITS @energievie's birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVIE!!! 💖💖💖 Thank you for the tags @deedala @energievie @michellemisfit

When is yours? August 12

Where were you born? Minnesota

How do you feel about your legal name? Are you using it online and/or IRL? Right now it's not a good time to be a Karen. But I use it anyway. I was called Kay or KO for a long period of my life. Now I'm called KOE by the people who used to call me KO. (It's a last name initials thing) My family sometimes calls me KayKay.

How about your sign? Do you feel it "fits"? Leo. Pretty much yes indeed except that I don't care about the way I look. I'm a Sagittarius moon which I feel is accurate as well. Double fire baby.

What's your earliest memory related to your birthday? Not my earliest, but one of my favorites. I turned 9 and was at this lake town on vacation with my family and grandparents and cousins. My mom and grandma took me into town. It was raining and they bought me a rainbow umbrella and then I had cheesecake for the first time! Also because of that memory I have kept track and it has rained on my birthday every year since!

What's one of the best gifts you've ever received? my children.

How about one of the best you've given yourself? my children.

What's your favourite cake flavour? lemon!

How about your favourite flowers? lilacs for scent and memories and yellow tulips for looks

Have your ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. I have! Well, very small ones for my kids. Like I'm talking two friends or something. We never had giant parties with party favor junk or anything. They stress me out and the idea of them stresses out my autistic son, but my daughter had a sleepover with 4 girls this year and it was ok. As long as we have a cake, it's fun.

What's the ultimate birthday song? You HAVE to listen to this song because a) it's fantastic b) they are from Chicago c) the guitarist/vocalist Alex is my friend and d) it was my daughter's favorite song when she was little.

And last but not least, pick a celebrity with whom you share your birthday. Peter Krause from Six Feet Under and 911 fame! We are also both from Minnesota. Basically best friends. tagging @celestialmickey @wehangout @mybrainismelted @gallawitchxx @francesrose3 @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued and you!

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter Six: He's Got A Soul As Sweet As Blood Red Jam

Summary: Peter may seem like a big tough gangster to the rest of the world but he's still that soft boy from Queens underneath it all.

Warnings: 18+ Only, eventual smut (like real soon), slight fluff and jokes, this is mostly plot, character and world building

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: This is basically just world building and further character development but still does a lot to bridge the gap between our lovers with their one to one dinner date. Expect some more name dropping and greater universe references and a lot of links back to our initial prologue and Peter's origins of friendly neighbourhood super hero to mob boss. Also title comes from the second verse of Lana Del Rey's Off To The Races, wanted to use both lines but it would have been too long. Anyway enjoy!

SIX

Peter had organised Miguel to drop the two of them off at F.E.A.S.T an hour later. The acronym stood for food, emergency, aid, shelter, training. It was a community outreach hub for the homeless or those in need. They had set multiple buildings up across the city under the banner when Peter first switched from being the friendly neighbourhood crime fighting vigilante to being a criminal in his own right. He still wasn’t like all those other guys though. Guys like her Father, Dr Octavious or even Quentin Beck. Whereas all those guys were solely out for themselves, Peter had never forgotten his roots or his mission to help his community. No, he was more like a Robin Hood figure. At least 50% of his annual profit always went back to the people.

And she had been there with him to set the whole thing up. After that first conversation they’d had all those years ago in the darkness of her college dorm room, they went back and forth for hours about what the people really need. Thus F.E.A.S.T was born.

They climbed out of the car and Miles quickly went round to open the trunk, to a mass of pink cake boxes. They quickly began to unload them from the car. Miles held out his arms and Angel stacked one box on top of the other until they were up to his eyeline. She took the final box out of the trunk before closing the boot. She shot a quick look of thanks Miguel’s way before her and Mile’s made their way to the door.

Her fingers quickly rooted around in her blazer pocket for the set of keys Peter had given her, her fingers holding a fob up to the side door of the building. There was a low buzz as the door unlocked and they shuffled their way inside with the boxes.

“Hey Karen.” Angel said, greeting a strawberry blonde woman as she made her way towards the same door her and Mile’s had just come through.

“Hey!” Karen beamed upon seeing her, an arm quickly raising to wrap around Angel’s shoulder. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It’s complicated.” Angel briefly responded. “How’s Matt?” 

“Oh, you know how he is, always takes on too many clients and never leaves himself enough time.”

“We’ll have to catch up properly soon.” Angel beamed.

“Yes. We definitely will. Look I’ve gotta run, I’ve gotta get some paperwork over to city hall before they close, but it was great seeing you.” Karen spoke joyfully as she wrapped Angel into her arms once more.

“Yeah, and you.” Angel concluded their conversation as Karen began to make her way to the door, buzzing herself out.

“Okay… so where are we putting these?” Miles asked, motioning to the boxes he was beginning to get frustrated with holding, after all, pink was not his colour.

She rolled her eyes before saying, “This way.” as she began to walk through the familiar halls. 

Not much had changed since the last time she had been there. Maybe some of the faces, but she was still surprised to see so many familiar ones. Particular Nurses who saw patients with doctors in special designated consultation rooms, all paid for by the Benjamin Parker foundation, little kids who enjoy coming and hanging out in the rec rooms recognising her, smiling and waving as she passed them.

“Hi, Angel.”

“Hi.” she’d say back.

“Hi, Angel.”

“Hi!” It was like that all the way down to the food hall. A large canteen that served regular hot meals for anyone in need, whether you were living on the streets, struggling for money or simply had no idea how to cook. It was a bustling hub of life and community. Mothers talking over cups of coffee as their kids bonded and played together. Newly divorced men looking for someone to talk to and sharing a table with those who called the streets their home as they swapped life stories. It was her favourite place in the world and her proudest achievement in life.

They set the boxes down on a free table along the back wall, opening them up to display the fresh goods. There was a sudden thud to her side as a small girl collided with her thigh, her small arms reaching to wrap around her waist. 

“Angel!” the girl beamed, “You came back.”

Angel recognised the young girl immediately. She had grown a fair bit since she had last seen her at the shelter. “Of course I did.” Angel beamed as her arms instinctively wrapped around her. “Look how much you’ve grown.” Angel commented.

“Look, I’ve got a loose tooth.” The girl said proudly as she used her fingers to pull down her lower lip and show it off.

“Oh wow. You make sure you take good care of it and that it gets to the tooth fairy okay, yeah?”

“I will.” she beamed before she ran off back towards her mother who politely smiled and waved in her direction from her seat at one of the tables.

“Wow, you really know everyone here.” Miles interjected as she continued to watch the young girl as she joined another little girl at a smaller coloring table.

“Believe it or not Miles, this used to be my livelihood. I used to come down and spend so many of my days here helping out. Veronica was actually born here.” She said motioning to the little girl who kept looking back and smiling at her.

“You don’t say.” Miles said with a smile as he finally began to relax.

“It’s my favourite place in the world.” she said fondly. “Come on, I’ll give you the proper tour.”

They walked around the halls together as she gave him the grand tour of all three floors. As well as the already mentioned doctor’s rooms, cafeteria, common rooms and childrens playrooms, there were counselling suites and consultation rooms for legal advice. The second floor had a community hall with regular classes from toddler groups to self defence lessons. The whole top floor was dedicated to the homeless project that provided emergency beds for those rough sleeping whether on site there at the hub or being relocated to one of the apartment buildings they had bought out as temporary accommodation until they could get their feet back on the ground.

They sat and talked to people in the communities, helped out staff where they could and overall tried to inject some light into people's lives amongst the darkness.

“Hey.” a familiar voice said behind her as Veronica, who had just come and given her a picture she had drawn for her, ran back to the coloring table.

“Heeyy!” she beamed softly as she turned around to find her husband.

His hand tenderly braced itself against her lower back and she couldn’t help but melt into his warm touch. She had become so wrapped up in what she was doing, she had almost completely forgotten everything else that had come to pass. The way that everyone had opened their arms to her made her feel like the last three years had never happened, let alone the last 4 hours she had spent there.

“I went back to May’s apartment but you weren’t there.”

“No.” she smiled fondly.

The whole moment felt so domestic, reminding him of days gone by where he would pick her up on Friday afternoons, a moment for him to show his own face and see all of the hard work that was continuing to be carried out with his money. He turned his head around the room looking for Miles, only to find him sitting on a tiny chair next to a little boy on a purple bean bag, playing with the new playstation that had recently been acquired.

“I’m assuming all of the baked goods are gone?” he asked, attempting to keep civil conversation and find good ground between them.

“Actually I think there might be a cupcake or two still in there if you want one.”

They smiled fondly at one another. He had to admit, despite all of the shit he ended up being involved with on a day to day basis, whenever he came back here, seeing families and communities thrive, it made it all worth it,

“You ready to get out of here and go for that dinner?” He asked softly.

She silently nodded as she found herself suddenly drowning in his honey brown eyes. Those soft eyes. The ones he used to look at her with back when they first met. Back when he would sneak into her dorm room. His gaze would soften like molten honey, a sickly sweet sensation always pulling her in as he told her how beautiful she was, his Angel. “Yes.” she finally said slowly, finding her voice. It was barely audible above the noise of the room, but she knew he heard it.

“Yo, Miles!” Peter hollered across the room to him, causing the younger gentleman’s ears to prick up, his head turning slightly, but his eyes never left the screen. “You’re free, man, go home.”

“Yeah, okay, just a minute!” he called back, “I just gotta win this race.”

“Nu uh.” the young boy next to him replied before Miles playfully bumped the kids shoulder with his own.

Angel couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the exchange as she grabbed her blazer off the back of a chair as they left.

-

When they got out onto the street Angel had expected to find Miguel outside waiting for them, but instead her eyes came to rest on a black Maserati she recognised from her quick glance across the garage in their rush the night before. “Where’s Miguel?” she asked as Peter began to make his way towards the car, opening the passenger door for her. 

“I’ve got him out running an errand with Harry.” he replied as she stepped past him to slide herself into the passenger seat. “Plus, I want tonight to be just about us.” He said, his head bending down to look at her through the door frame.

“Okay, duly noted.” she replied with a curt smile before he closed the door on her. “So does that mean we’re gonna get through a whole evening without interruptions?” She asked when he climbed into the driver's seat on the other side.

He shuffled slightly in his seat before reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer for his phone making a show of putting it on aeroplane mode before handing it to her for safe keeping. She pursed her lips, attempting to keep a straight face as she looked down at the phone now turning around in her fingertips, trying not to let on how big of a deal that was for the two of them.

“So where are we going?” she asked as he clicked his seatbelt into place before starting the car up with a loud rev of the engine for good measure. She had no doubt he was showboating, trying to impress.

“Oh, now that would ruin the surprise.” he said as he quickly revved the car and sped away.

*****

They arrived 10 minutes later outside a restaurant on the upper east side called the Lemon Grove. The whole front of the building was lit with fairy lights and vines filled with fake lemons. They got out of the car and Peter tossed his keys to a waiting valet before his now free hand rested comfortably at the small of her back as he guided her to the restaurant door.

“Hi, good evening, welcome to the Lemon Grove, do you have a booking with us this evening?” a gentleman, who looked to be nearing his forties asked.

“Yes, there should be a table for two under Parker.” Peter said.

The maître d' scanned his list before saying “ahh yes, here it is. If you’d like to follow me this way.” he encouraged them as he held out a hand for them to follow him.

He led them through the bustling restaurant and over to a table tucked away to the back. He moved to pull out a chair for Angel but Peter quickly cut him off, “It’s okay, I’ve got it.” he said, wanting to make a show of putting in the effort with her after their fight earlier on he was still trying to make up for.

“Okay.” the maître d' said as he took a step back.

When Peter had stepped back around to the other side of the table and began taking his seat the maître d' stepped forward again to place the menus on either side of the table in front of them.

“Thank you.” Angel smiled, as Peter tucked his chair in.

“Can I get either of you a drink? Or would you like to take a moment to look at the wine list?” The maître d' asked, motioning to the smaller menu already on the table.

Before she had had a chance to say anything Peter hastily grabbed the wine list, scanning it over, before ordering them a bottle of an Italian Cabernet from Tuscany. 

“Coming right up, sir.” The maître d' said before walking away and leaving them to their table.

“You still love Italian food right?” Peter asked her as they both reached for their menus to start gazing over the cuisine. 

“Would you hate me if I actually said I’d gone off it.” she deadpanned from behind her menu, causing him to freeze. “I mean, living in Italy for just over two years…” she continued, seeing how far she could push him and make him squirm. She watched over the top of her menu as he swallowed uneasily. “I’m kidding Pete.” she quickly said as he met her eyes, a smile creeping across her face.

“Don’t do that.” he quickly shook his head at her, but he couldn’t hide from her the small quirk in the corner of his lip at realising he’d been had. “No.” he continued, trying to brush it off. 

“What? Spider boy can’t take a joke anymore?” she teased as she fought with the grin that wanted to take over her whole face.

“Oh no, I can take a joke.” he quickly interjects, looking to cover himself.

“Yes, of course.” she mockingly nods as he continues to get a hold of himself.

“It’s just, not often that I am the victim to them.”

“Okay.” she smirked as she continued to nod, her eyes turning back to the menu in front of her as she scanned the list of foods.

It was at that point she realised she hadn’t really eaten since their breakfast meeting this morning.

“What is it?” he quickly asked, noticing the sudden furrow to her brow, an air of concern taking over his whole body.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” She hastily responded, not wanting him to stress or feel like matters were worse than they were, as if either of them still weren’t somewhat on alert after the events of the past 24 hours, an unconscious paranoia just waiting to take over. “I just realised I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Oh.” he interjected quietly as he began to settle again.

They sat in silence for a moment as they continued to scan the menu, that unspoken paranoia sitting heavily in the middle of the table between them after his reaction that neither was sure how to shift.

“So do you know what you want?” he asked, clearing his throat slightly and breaking up the silence between them.

He watched for a moment as she flicked back and forth between pages. “Yes… no… maybe?” He can’t help but be warmed by the small questioning look on her face, one eyebrow twitching higher than the other, her head tipping slightly as she muddled over the different options in her head. It was the same look she used to get when he would watch her study for a test or when she was struggling to work something out for her thesis, back when she was still at college.

A waiter came over with their drinks and it made Peter smile when she didn’t even look up from the menu, but still reached for the glass the moment it had been sat down, swiftly bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. 

“Do we know what we’d like to order this evening?” The waiter asked as he stood patiently next to the table. 

Peter was about to ask for him to give them another moment when she closed the menu and sat it down in front of her. There was a pause as if to check she really was ready, when she said. “Off you go.” tipping her head to encourage Peter to place his order, as she once again brought her wine glass coily to her lips.

“Are we doing starters?” Peter quickly questioned her, an old habit suddenly popping into his head.

“Peter, just order.” she replied, but he could see the quirk of her lip and recognised the sudden dark gaze to her eye and knew she was up to something.

“Okay…” he hesitantly said, his head turning towards the waiter. “We’ll take the calamari and a portion of arancini to share for starters.” he began, his eyes quickly glancing back to his date for confirmation she was okay with this. She merely raised her eyebrows as she sank back in her seat, wine glass still poised in her hand, the tiniest tilt to her head encouraging him on. “Then for mains, I’ll take the sea bass…” he paused, flashing her another glance and her eyebrows rose higher still, encouraging him to surprise her and order for her. He quickly scanned back over the menu before him, re-familiarising himself with it. He smiled to himself. “She’ll have the parmigiana di melanzane, a portion of bruschetta and a small caprese salad on the side.” He said with perfect pronunciation as he ordered her a selection of their starters for her to pick and choose from like an Italian version of tapas. Once she had laid down the gauntlet he had felt her tense slightly, worrying whether or not he’d order the right thing, but upon making the order, he could feel her energy begin to relax, a smile forming on her lips again.

“Is that everything, sir?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, I think it is.” Peter said with a smile dismissing the waiter who quickly took their menus from them before heading to the kitchen with their order.

There was a pause between them as Peter took a sip of his wine and they tried to work out what to talk about. 

“How’s your shoulder?” Peter asked her as she folded her hands into her lap.

“It’s okay. A little tender but, it’s fine.” Her fingers automatically reached for the shoulder in question but quickly lowered her hand back into her lap.

“How bad was the house?” she asked. Peter noticed there was a slight hesitancy to her question, as if it pained her to think about.

“It’s gonna take a bit of work but-”

“Do you think we’ll be able to go back there, or will we need to sell it?”

Her question seemed to answer her previous hesitancy. It had been their house, their home. The place they had picked out together, decorated together. Lived in together. They’d always seen it as their forever home. The place to raise kids one day. Maybe get a dog. Hold large family events in the backyard. They’d tried so hard to keep it separate from everything else and now that privacy had been violated.

He was silent for a moment as he considered his response. “I won’t lie… it might have to be a possibility.” He watched her closely as she exhaled the breath she had been holding, the usual twinkle in her eye fading as the reality of their situation took over once more. “But until-”

“I know.” she said, not needing him to finish his sentence, her own mind already completing it for her. ‘Until the Vulture had been taken care of, they wouldn’t even be able to consider the house safe enough to go home.’

“So what do we do?” she asked. “I mean we can’t very well keep staying at May’s.” she noted.

Peter was silent for a moment as he looked down at the table in front of him. He had that face on him, she noted, the one where he had something planned but didn’t want to let on that he in fact had a plan.

He was saved by the arrival of their starters, the food being placed down in the middle of the table for them both to pick at.

“Thank you.” Angel said politely to the waiter as he quickly made his retreat, leaving them alone once more.

“Oh my god.” she sighed as she took a bite out of one of the arancini balls with a groan of satisfaction. “That’s amazing.”

Peter’s face changed to one of pleasant surprise as he placed one into his mouth and confirmed his wife's reaction by having a similar one, his own humm of satisfaction vibrating his lips as he chewed.

“So is it as good as the stuff in the actual country or…?” he asked as they moved on to the calamari.

“Not bad.” she confirmed as she finished her mouthful. “I made friends with this lovely old woman who lived down the road from the house and she used to make the best meatballs I have ever tasted. She had just that right ratio of tomato and garlic and she’d slow cook them so they just melted in your mouth.” Angel gushed.

“Now I’m glad I didn’t order the meatballs.” Peter smiled. “With a description like that I don’t think they could have compared and I would have spent the whole meal feeling disappointed with my food, dreaming about these mouthwatering, slow cooked-”

She giggled, a blush forming on her cheeks as she took another sip of wine as he jokingly continued to use as many adjectives as he knew to describe a plate of meatballs he would never ultimately have.

“Oh no, I’m serious.” he continued with a smirk, “I’m gonna call Miguel right now, get him to tell them to get a jet ready so we can fly to Italy to this mysterious magical Nona who cooks the best meatballs and we will do nothing else until-”

“How are you gonna do that, when I have your phone?” she teased back.

“Fine then, you call Miguel.”

“Peter.” she giggled and chastised. He loved it when he could make her blush. Make her forget about everything else. Take them back to their youth. Quiet rainy afternoons, wrapped up in each other's arms on that small single bed.

“Okay, okay.” he conceded with a smile.

“What do you wanna do about your Father’s house?” he asked her as their main courses arrived, her three smaller plates being laid out strategically in front of her by the waiter. Peter watched as she quietly thanked him before switching the order of the plates once the waiter's back was turned. It made Peter’s stomach turn, a sickly sweet feeling that sent tingles to the joins of his jaw that made him quickly turn his head to his own plate before him, inner conflict returning as his brain remembered the question he’d just asked and all of their recent history began to drive a wedge between them once more.

“Sell it.” 

“You sure?” he questioned. It had been the home she had grown up in.

“There’s nothing left for me there.” she said as she lifted a fork full of salad into her mouth.

“Did you wanna go back and sort through anything?”

“No.” she adamantly shook her head.

“Okay.” he silently nodded and agreed. “We can put all the money back into the foundation if you want. Maybe set up another hub in the city?” he asked, trying to chip away at the wall she seemed to just put up at the mention of her Father.

She paused as she lowered her cutlery. “Peter, can I ask you something?” Peter’s own hands froze either side of his plate as he gave her his full attention. “Do you ever wonder if you made the right choice?”

“What do you-”

“I mean all this.” she gestured with her hand between them. “If you hadn’t given up the suit and the mask… do you think things would have been different?”

“I think…” he paused as he tried to comprehend her question. To think of the life they would have had if he had continued to be the Spider-Man, not whatever he was today, “I think we wouldn’t have much money. I think we’d have ended up living in a shoe box apartment somewhere in Queens, still sneaking around behind your father’s back.” She quietly sipped on her wine as she listened to his thoughts. “I think a lot of people's lives would be harder because they wouldn’t have the hubs to go to when they are in need.”

“That’s not what I mean.” she quietly said as her arms came to rest on the table, her fingers reaching out to him.

“You mean, do you think he would have let you stay?”

There was silence between them. Peter watched as she slowly removed her hand from where it had reached out across the table towards him. Reached out for him, to bridge that gap that had grown between them. But he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t be reminded what it felt like to feel her soft skin against his.

The two of them remained silent, unable to finish their food. The weight of everything that had been or even could have been already enough for their brains to process, let alone the last of their food in front of them.

When the waiter asked if they’d like to look at the dessert menu, Peter waved him off. He instead quickly settled the bill with a generous tip and they both left.

They waited quietly side by side at the edge of the street for the car to be brought around.

“I’m sorry.” she finally blurted out as her arms closed tightly around her with the evening chill. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” she added more quietly as the car revved to a stop in front of them.

The driver quickly got out, handing Peter the keys before stepping towards the passenger door to open it.

“Get in the car.” Peter instructed softer than she expected. “There’s something I want to show you.”

------------------------------

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[chartreusejelly]

Am I Born to Die? || Sean MacGuire x f!OC

Fic Summary:

Mildred "Millie" Donahue, once a ranch hand and fiddler reminisces on her short time in the Van Der Linde gang through memories and letters. During early 1899, Millie decides to leave a life of petty crime and a haunted past for a path to salvation.

She finds herself victim to a train robbery led by Dutch Van Der Linde while stowing away to start her new life, but instead joins them in their pursuit for riches. She finds herself infatuated with Arthur Morgan, but her heart takes an unexpected turn for a certain cocky Irishman.

AO3 Link

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3|

Chapter Warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of death by fire, some derogatory language, a mention of nsfw activity (nothing that isn't already in the game) RDR2 spoilers.

Pairings: Sean x f!OC some implications of Arthur x f!OC and Sean x Karen

Characters: (in this chapter) Arthur Morgan, Sean MacGuire, John Marston, Karen Smith

Wordcount: 3,392

Notes: Please note if you have been following from the beginning: I've changed the title due to not liking it. But it's still the same fic! This chapter starts off with a (fictional) journal entry from Arthur some time after his diagnosis and moves into Sean's rescue and party era. Also some fluff near the end.

Thanks for checking out my work! Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome as this is the first time I'm writing these characters and am always looking to improve!

[Arthur’s Journal ] 

Oct ?? 1899

 It’s hard enough to sort my thoughts out as it is, but this is my intention. So I got another journal to try and do just that. I was near the end of my old one and it seemed appropriate to start over, while I still can. I am losing my mind, and I don’t mean that figuratively. 

Times are hard. Everything hurts. My body, my heart, my mind. Sometimes I wish I could end it all. But I’ve caused a lot of pain of my own, so it doesn’t seem right to take the coward’s way out. I don’t know how much time I have left. I cannot undo the wicked things I’ve done on this earth. I cannot even make amends to every person I’ve hurt. Every promise I have broken. 

I’ve been thinking about a lot of people whose lives could have been better off if they hadn’t gotten mixed up with us. There are those we lost, of course. It’s too late for them, I’m afraid. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to see them again soon. There are also people who are still alive that I regrettably won’t be able to help. I’ve done my best to make sure they’ll be alright. But there are so many people I’ve encountered. Some odd, but good people. Each with a story and life of their own. I wish I had time to write each one and tell them how much I appreciated their company, even if it was brief. I suppose that’s why I bought this journal, more than anything. If someone should come across this book, well, at least you’ll know. 

Mildred Donahue comes to mind. Millie, as we called her.  Don’t know where she is today (was headed to West Elizabeth last we spoke), but Lord knows, she made the right choice to leave us when she did. Smart girl. I thought she was too good to be running with the likes of us hoodlums, even though she wasn’t entirely innocent when we met her (Are they ever?). I don’t remember how old she was. Bit older than Sean, but younger than Marston I think. But an old soul, as they say. 

She was originally from somewhere near Georgia, she said. Told me she had worked on a ranch with her crippled Pa for most of her childhood. He was a fiddler from Ireland. Must have taught her, because damn, could she play. Anything from folk songs we all knew to slow, soft music that made you feel sad for things you couldn’t truly understand. 

Millie talked about her poor old dad almost as much as Sean talked about his. Only with Millie, it was not fondly. I couldn’t tell if she loved or hated the man. He basically treated her like a work horse, from what I gather. Beat her often. (She didn’t say so, but I could tell by that temper that came out sometimes. We had that much in common.) Even so, it seemed there was an underlying love and compassion for the man, on account of him being the only companion she had. 

I miss those nights in camp when there was nothing much else to do except sit by the fire and talk. When it was just her and I sometimes, that was when she really opened up. I guess she trusted me more than some of the others for some reason. I learned that she’d lost her Pa in a fire on that ranch when she was about twelve. 

A fire he started himself. They had room and board there in a little cabin, and had been there for years. The dumb S.O.B  passed out and dropped a lit pipe on a whiskey soaked rugged. She said he woke her up and dragged her out, then went back in for their possessions only to never come out. Poor little thing just stood there and watched the place burn with him in it. 

She ended up in an orphanage until she aged out, then joined a traveling band with her fiddle, rather than being sold to a workhouse. When money was tight, they’d hussle people in a card game or bet, or find a saloon where they’d rob the odd drunk. Ironically her Catholic faith and desperate times led her to us. I guess sometimes the only way out of a fire is through.  We found her during a train job on our way to Blackwater, sometime after we picked up Bell. Unlike that useless turd, Millie was a fine addition to our gang. She worked hard and kept busy. Good with leather work and good with a rifle.

She ended up falling hard for Sean. It didn’t make sense to anyone. A girl with a good head on her shoulders falling for an irritating loud mouth. However, he probably grew on her, like he did most of us. His absence hit hard when he was dead and gone. Maybe he charmed her, since talking was the only thing he seemed to be good for. I always figured there was something about him that reminded her of home in an odd sort of way. Besides, taking care of someone was all she knew, and lord knows Sean needed all the help he could get. 

Karen once hinted early on that Millie was sweet on me, but I figured it was nothing more than idle gossip. The way Millie and I were after Sean was gone, well…I’m not sure what to make of it, even today. I grieved that boy harder than I would have imagined, but what I felt wasn’t an ounce of her pain. I felt protective of her, l think. Sean was like my brother. I couldn't protect him the day he got killed. The least I could do was make sure his girl made it out in one piece. 

If it was anything more than that, I probably just imagined it. I never had much love left to give after Eliza and Mary. (That’s another story, and probably one I haven’t enough time or paper for.) I don’t think I could have given Millie what she deserved. But sometimes I think, under better circumstances, I could have taken care of her. There are a lot of things I would do different if I got to do it again. 

……..

Not long after we escaped to Colter, John went and nearly got himself killed again by some wolves. Arthur brought him back to camp, alive but in rough shape. No one wanted to watch another person die from infection when our resources were bare bones. Arthur seemed least concerned, taunting the man, whilst he lay on his deathbed, about his reckless behavior. I came to understand that this was typical of the two, who’s mutual resentment was clear to me from day one. It seemed to be enough to spark John’s stubborn determination and survive just to spite him, which was for the better. We all knew Abigail and little Jack needed him.

Dutch became very focused on formulating a new plan to get more money, since Blackwater was a bust. We knew that with a large price on Dutch’s head after killing that girl on the ferry (which we knew was Micah Bell’s fault), we had to keep a low profile. It wasn’t easy to do when we also needed money. 

When we reached New Hanover, we scouted out a little clearing on a hill called Horseshoe to set up camp. We were glad to get the hell out of the snow and it turned out to be a good spot for us. It overlooked the river crossing, and was about an hour to travel by horse to Valentine, a little pig-shit auction town where we ended up stirring up too much chaos to mention. As seemed to be the case everywhere the Van Der Linde gang went.

Even with the idea that stealing was a horrible sin literally beaten into me, (my Pa had once beat me with his cane and made me pray for two hours over swiping a penny sweet) I couldn’t say I blamed the gang for preferring to obtain funds this way. We could make what would take us two or three months to earn on an honest working wage with one train or coach job, if done right. It didn’t matter to them if it was someone else’s much needed money, though I did think about this sometimes. 

Still wanting to prove myself, I did what I could to help as we got settled in, to earn my keep. It felt like I was starting to lose my morals, like most of them, if they had any to begin with. But Arthur always reassured my fears.  “Trust Dutch, Miss Donahue. He always looks out for us.” He told me. “Besides, the people we take from ain’t usually kind people. They all want us dead.” Truthfully, I knew I could have walked any time, but I didn’t want to let Arthur down. 

The first couple weeks in New Hanover, Dutch was preoccupied with some business with the O’Driscolls after we had taken one of their men as prisoner. The rest of us laid low as much as we could, like we were told. The Englishman, Trelawny took it upon himself to find Sean and he asked me for as many details as I could remember about the bounties who took him. What they were wearing, what horses they were riding. I remembered that one had long dark hair and a deep scar across his cheek. This detail led to Trelawny finding the exact man in the sheriff's office in Blackwater. After some digging he found out who their leader was, and as it turned out, Sean was alive. He was being held with plans to turn him over to a federal prison. 

Dutch sent Arthur, Javier and Charles out to meet Trelawny and within a day or two, they came back with Sean. He was gaunt and looked as though he’d taken more than a few beatings, but he was no less cocky or eager to tell everyone what he’d seen. It turned out those bounties had done a number on him trying to get him to give up our names and location, but they couldn’t get two words out of him, besides “Fuck you”. I have to admit it was a relief to see him alive after how much I had blamed myself for his capture. 

We had a celebration that night. The gang saw it as a victory and probably needed an excuse for a good time after all the misery we had left in Colter. I played my fiddle for them for the first time, while Javier played his guitar, and old Uncle, the banjo. We put on quite the show. I played all the songs I knew from the wedding gigs I had done, and tried my best to play some of the more tasteless songs people requested. It was the most lively I’d seen them. I even had a couple drinks myself and felt a pang of jealousy, when I saw Mary-Beth ask Arthur to dance. No one had ever taught me to dance, or I would have asked him first. As I was watching them, the man of the hour himself, Sean MacGuire, was making his rounds to tell his heroic tale. He sat next to me by the fire. 

“Aint’cha gonna tell me how much you missed me, Miss Donoghue?” 

I scowled at his deliberate mispronunciation of my name. He was never going to let that go, apparently. “I was raised better than to tell a lie, Mr. Macguire.” 

He chuckled heartily, nearly spilling his beer and reached over to give me a slap on the back. “Still got that sharp Irish tongue I see.”  he said and took a gulp of his beer. “An’ thank you, by the way.”

I looked at him in confusion “For what?” 

“The Englishman said you helped him track me down.” Sean explained and I gave an indifferent shrug.  “The men did all the hard work. I just told him what I saw.” As I said this, I tensed, prepared to hear some wisecrack about me not doing more to stop them or come after him. I feared he might blame me for the weeks of hell he’d spent with those bounties. But it seemed from the hit he had taken to the head falling off his horse, he didn’t remember much.

“And I’m damn lucky you did. Probably be wearing stripes and swinging by now if you hadn’t.”  He said nothing more to me that night, but pestered Karen until she dragged him off to John’s tent for some late night ‘fun’. Or so I heard from practically everyone in camp the next day. According to Tilly, Sean and Karen had “history” as she put it, and I didn’t inquire what that meant. 

I didn't think much of it at that time, because although there might have been some kind of mutual respect established that night, Sean was not the man I had my heart set on. At least not then. I was busy thinking of Arthur, wishing he would notice that I’d become smitten for him, but not really going out of my way to make it known. Besides, what would I have done if he did? I had no plans on marrying an outlaw set in his ways. Even if I did think he was something special. 

I figured that Sean and Karen were going to become an item, but as the weeks passed she acted like that night was nothing more than a poor decision, and treated him like a pest despite his persistence in trying to woo her again. It wasn’t long before the gang forgot that they had missed the fool when his big mouth and lazy attitude started to get on their nerves again. If he got to be too much trouble, Hosea or Dutch would put him on guard duty as punishment.

No one liked guard duty. Personally for me, the solitude away from camp wasn’t the worst part, especially when the Horseshoe camp had some nice scenery of the mountains and outstretched shoreline of the Dakota River. It was the fact that it made for a long day when there was no action to be found, and there rarely was.  Sean especially hated it. He couldn’t handle the boredom or lack of attention for so long. Though to make it more bearable, guard duty was broken up so a person only had to stand look out for maybe four or five hours at most. 

Since Sean had been caught dozing off in broad daylight one too many times, Hosea didn’t trust him to do graveyard shift. But he must have said something particularly offensive that day, because he had put him on the earliest shift, starting around four o’clock in the morning until after breakfast time. 

I had a nightmare that night about the fire that killed my Pa. They use to come a lot more frequently. Practically every night those years I lived in St. Margret’s Orphanage. When I left Georgia, they hardly came at all and I took it as a sign that even though I had done some bad things, maybe I was on the right track. But once in a while they crept up, like an unwanted visitor. Always the same..

I was asleep on the top bunk in our cabin. I thought a smelled smoke. Figured our chimney pipe needed cleaning again, and I’d probably have to be the one to do it, but it could wait until morning. Next thing I knew, I heard Pa cursing. He was shaking me. 

“Mildred! Get up! Get up! We’ve gotta get out, now!” He held a wet rag over my face. Confused, I opened my eyes as he lifted me off the bunk. That’s when I saw it. The wall of fire behind my father glowing red as the flames grew larger, consuming everything in it’s path. Our kitchen, our possessions. I thought I was dreaming but the smoke that burned my eyes told me it wasn’t. I coughed even through the rag, and struggled to breathe. 

Pa pushed me towards the door and told me to keep my head down. I tried to stay under the smoke. I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. Then, Pa kicked the door open and dragged me out and I took a deep breath.

“Oh, Christ Almighty. Thank God.” Pa said as he held me tightly. Then to my surprise, he let me go. I reached out as he made a dash for the cabin, trying to stop him. I don’t know what he was going for. Our papers, his fiddle…none of it was worth the risk. I screamed for him to come back.

“Stay there, girl. Stay there, damn it!” He used the stern tone I knew better than to argue against. I watched him hobble on his bad foot towards the cabin. The flames had not fully engulfed it from the outside but I knew it was only a matter of minutes. Without his cane, he couldn’t move fast. 

I was frozen with fear but I screamed for him. The other men on the ranch were up. Someone yelled to get pails and water from the well pump and start a line to put the fire out before it spread to the barn. Others ran to rescue the horses. I ran towards the cabin, but Chet caught me, his burly frame blocking my path.

“Millie, no!” He said holding me back. “You can’t go in there!” He held me firmly in place. He his strong arms wrapped around my small body. He held my head against his chest to keep me from looking at the flames, but his voice was gentle. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry...” he kept saying…

When I felt someone shaking me saying my name, I thought the dream had started over and woke up startled. I looked up at Sean who held his hands up defensively. 

“It’s just me. You were mumblin’ loud enough to wake the dead.” I sat up slowly and looked around. Mary-Beth, who slept by a wagon with Karen a few feet away from me had her pillow pressed over her ear, and realized Sean was right. I saw the gun slung over his shoulder and remembered he was on guard duty. I let out a sigh of and settled back into my shabby bed roll, embarrassed. 

“Must have been a hell of a dream, huh?” Sean said, still crouched down by me. There was sincerity of his tone. He let out a sigh and gazed up for a moment at the clusters of stars above our camp. “I use to have some bad ones, when I was in reformed school. Wasn’t easy to get a decent night’s sleep there.”

I let out a grunt of acknowledgement figuring he was about to tell some pointless story about his past. 

“Ah, well. Anyway... Sorry to wake ya, Miss.” he stood and I lifted my head watching him walk away. 

I tried to settle back to sleep and focus on something other than my dream to will it out of my head. The camp is silent except the occasional pop of our smouldering fire pit, and Uncle’s snoring somewhere in the distance. I was nearly asleep when I feel the weight of something soft on top of me. 

Once again startled, I looked up and saw Sean again, looking down at me. “You looked cold. You can borrow me blanket. Won’t be needing it tonight.”  He smiled softly. I heard a yawn and “G’night.” As he walked away again. I was too stunned by his sudden moment of hospitality to say a word. It seemed frankly out of character. I had really only seen two emotional sides of Sean MacGuire: Overly-confident joy, or mean-spirited anger. I had no idea he was capable of any kind of empathy, like Arthur clearly was and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I liked the clod, but I suppose he didn’t quite annoy me so much after that night.