#central park karen

[charming-or-tedious]

[kyliaquilor]

I'm not saying Central Park Karen deserved to be fired, be unemployable and be sent death threats, etc. She didn't.

But she's not innocent. She could have left. She could have leashed her dog. She could have just not called the cops. As soon as she saw him filming her, as soon as he said 'please call the police', she should have just stopped and walked away. She kept going.

Maybe she did feel threatened. I doubt it. But she was not in the right, and the complete lack of apology is proof she is still the same woman. And Newsweek is irresponsible for giving her a platform to try to rewrite what happened.

[despazito]

Seriously though being a white woman puts you in such a privileged position as a birder, ESPECIALLY in the suburbs and I wish us white birders would acknowledge it more. A good 90% of suburban birdwatching around the neighborhood could be so easily be smeared as ""loitering"" or casing a house to someone looking for the worst reading of your actions or just don't want your presence around and want to get rid of you. I can watch a bird darting around someone's yard for several minutes even at 4am, whip out my phone to snap some photos of someone's property where I live. I'm sure I couldn't get away with half the ogling I do if I didn't look the way I look.

I don't have to think about what clothes to wear to signal that I'm just trying to enjoy nature, it makes me furious what little green spaces we have that don't need a car to access can't be enjoyed by everyone in the same ways I can just take for granted.

Like I think if you're part of a local birding group online and spot a rare species across the street from a MAGA house or thin blue line punisher truck I think it's now your duty to also include that in your alert post for the safety of other members. You would most likely get a slap on the wrist for being "political" on a birdwatching group but fuck em, start your own group if that's the case

[caribmermaid84]

[wachinyeya]

Black Birder Wrongfully Accused in Central Park Used his Fame to Make Bird Watching Show-Now it Wins Emmy https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/emmy-award-goes-to-black-man-who-was-wrongfully-accused-in-central-park-and-his-brilliant-birding-show/

His name is Christian Cooper.

—

A devoted birdwatcher who landed a show on National Geographic after making headlines during a racial profiling incident has turned his fame into an Emmy Award after overcoming adversity.

It’s a beautiful culmination of four years of creative work spawned in the wake of the “Central Park Karen” incident, that has seen Mr. Christian Cooper produce a book, television show, and graphic novel series.

To readers for whom the 24-hour news cycle has swept this story under the rug, in 2020 Christian Cooper was in a wooded area of NYC’s Central Park called The Ramble, enjoying his lifelong passion for birdwatching when a woman threatened to call 911 on him after he asked her to put her dog back on its leash, as per the park rules.

Becoming irate, the woman called the police and said there was an African-American man threatening her life, all while the Harvard-educated Cooper recorded the dreadful stunt on his smartphone.

On June 8th, he became a Daytime Emmy Award winner in the Outstanding Daytime Personality category for his show, Extraordinary Birder, which took viewers all over the Western Hemisphere exploring the nature and character of birds and Cooper’s lifelong hobby.

With birding rapidly advancing on his old career as a writer, for which he contributed to the Marvel universe, he combined the two in order to produce the critically acclaimed Better Living Through Birding: Notes from a Black Man in the Natural World, published by Penguin-Random House.

[tricktster]

Hey, for my American followers, I am sure you are all aware that the Day of Unpleasant Interactions With Members of Your Extended Family That Recently Voted To Actively Harm You While You All Eat a Large Dead Bird is rapidly approaching.

While I actively encourage all of you to hit da bricks and ignore the “but fAaAaMiLy” guilt trip if you know you’ll be surrounded by hostility, I also recognize that it’s not always a possibility depending on your situation/age/degree of financial independence etc.

Accordingly, if you know you’re in for a certified Bad Time and you want some ammunition to make your it’s-about-the-economy-Drunkle Kevin/i-do-my-own-research-Aunt Karen really fuckin’ reeeeeach for justifications, I think one of the absolute best uses of your day today would be to listen to the four part Behind the Bastards on President Elect Donald J. Trump’s pick to lead Health and Human Services: RFK Jr.

I know, you’ve heard about the brain worm, you know about the Central Park bear cub incident, you probably have heard about his anti-vax stuff, but like… holy goddamn shit, that is just scratching the surface.

Like, wait until you get to the daily acid trips at the decaying livestock carcass pit.

The expedition down the river where he stole all the morphine.

The omnipresent hawk named Morgan Le Fay literally shitting all over everything and everyone he gets near.

The sexual assaults.

The pathological roadkill collection and storage in other people’s fridges.

The direct consequences of his anti-vax shit leading to the death of like 44 people in American Samoa.

Fuck I know I mentioned this before and obviously the preventable deaths and sexual assaults are way worse but HOW HE HUNG OUT AT A PIT OF DECAYING SHEEP AND COW CARCASSES TRIPPING BALLS AND SENDING HIS HAWK TO EAT RATS INSTEAD OF GOING TO SCHOOL.

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/45WDcgQAMkEGx1YQnkNn4r

Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/behind-the-bastards/id1373812661?i=1000663070557

Youtube:

[librarycards]

do you have any advice for trying to build/find a community? i’m autistic with pretty severe social anxiety and haven’t had friends since grade 5 (i’m 29 now). i don’t work atm and didn’t go to college due to ‘mental illness’ or whatever. i’m really clueless about how to find a support system or even make a friend but it sure would be beneficial right now i think

sure! a great way to start is to get on some of your local facebook pages, or even nextdoor - it can be a shitty place for neighborhood karens, but at least my local page has people talking about free stuff they're leaving on the curb, someone whose grandma needs a ride, a bake sale at the school, and even meetups dependent on age/interest/etc.

some more ideas, starting w the obligatory: GO TO THE LIBRARY! they have so much centralized info there. there is probably a book club, there is probably some kind of volunteer sign-up sheet. there are probably bored librarians who can help you find other stuff. at least in my area, there are also fairly regular non-university-affiliated things (i live in a college town) at local bars, cafes, and art spaces/studios - check to see if there are any local IG pages posting about these events. that's how i found out about a bunch of mine. libraries have events, too, as do local bookstores, and they're almost always free.

the suggestions i'm throwing out all have basically the same goal: mix with people you haven't met before. building bonds takes time, and the process only starts when you and someone else say hello to one another. you don't have to be besties ever. you don't necessarily have to stay close. but knowing one person who maybe likes the same book as you, or shares some other interest, leads to more people, and soon you know someone who has a car, someone who has an extra ironing board, someone who can host a get-together in their yard because everyone else is a renter. support systems aren't found. they're not easy or inevitable. they're built through collective engagement and practice! and they start, generally, by happenstance, when people put themselves in each others' way.

when i moved here alone in 2020, i met some of my now-closest friends not primarily through grad school events (which didn't happen bc of lockdowns and such) but through going to the park and saying hi outdoors; stocking food in our local free fridges, and meeting tinder-friend dates masked, 6 ft apart in random public places. we kept doing that and our relationships strengthened, as they do. these days, i meet people through the friends i have - through shared classes back when i was in coursework, through organizing/union stuff and volunteering, through the occasional social event i just kinda show up at and hope for the best. there's a degree of inertia to this stuff - it gets smoother the more you do it!

you are *NOT* the only person around you who needs a friend. i promise. people are really lonely and often scared to admit it, and this is a great time to connect with people who also feel the urgency of community + anxiety around making it happen.

[vintagegeekculture]

Marvel's 1992 Darkhold Redeemers

“Darkhold Redeemers” was a comic created in 1992 about a group of supernatural investigators in possession of the Darkhold, an evil book of dark sorcery that has evil pages scattered over the world. In Marvel lore, the Darkhold is the book that created the first vampires. The comic was created by 90s Marvel journeyman Chris Cooper (also known for creating Starfleet Academy, a comic about the adventures of Cadet Nog that tied in to the events of Deep Space 9). 

The book is notable for three reasons. 

The first is that the premise is shockingly and coincidentally similar to the later Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with occult investigations carried out by a group that is led by a beautiful, tight outfit wearing vampire killer from a lineage of vampire hunters (Victoria Montesi, the Montesi Formula being the way vampires are destroyed in Marvel Comics), and also includes a mouthy scrappy everyman, an occult expert and archeologist who’s knowledge of the supernatural and collection of books leads to the secret of beating the creature of the week, a tough as nails government agent out of his depth when fighting the supernatural, and finally, a tremendously powerful and immortal dark antihero who joins the side of good despite his dark past (Mordred the Mystic is both Willow and Angel together, I suppose). 

The second detail is that it was the first Marvel Comic with an openly gay lead character. You might have heard it was Northstar, but this is not true. Chris Cooper is openly gay himself and always fought for inclusion of this nature. Victoria Montesi’s debut predates Northstar coming out of the closet (a comic, incidentally, that Chris Cooper wrote as associate editor on Alpha Flight, so he worked on both).

There are, likewise, many candidates for who the first gay character in Star Trek is, but one of the characters with the strongest claim to this title is Chris Cooper’s Yoshi Mishima in his Starfleet Academy series. 

Chris Cooper eventually left Marvel Comics after the 90s. Nothing happened. Most people in a freelance job like comic editing and writing are not Chris Claremont, who are there for decades. Careers in the arts don’t last forever, and they have to come to an end sometime, where you go and get a real job.

But Chris Cooper came up again decades later in the news, was the subject of an incident in 2020 when birdwatching in Central Park (he’d been a member of a birdwatching society at Harvard), where he was threatened by a female jogger, who said she would call the police as he threatened her, when we can see he did no such thing. The incident was known as either “the Central Park Birdwatching Incident” or the “Central Park Karen.” 

Looking at the footage now, it’s easy to see why it was national news and viral on the internet. Apart from the obvious racial angle, it is a chilling reminder of how a woman’s vulnerability can become a weapon, and how man’s strength can turn into a vulnerability. 

All the while watching the incident, I was like "...the Darkhold Redeemers guy? No, it couldn't be...it's probably a coincidence, Chris Cooper is a very common name." But nope, it really was the Starfleet Academy guy from the 90s.

Chris Cooper received a birdwatching show on National Geographic, and inspired many black people to go into birdwatching, but I could care less about birdwatching. I would like to see what happened next with Darkhold Redeemers and Starfleet Academy, which ended at a cliffhanger with a lot of unresolved plot points.

[chvoswxtch]

happy valentine's day

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt has a special date planned for your first valentine's day together.

warnings: light cursing, loads of tooth rotting fluff

word count: 2.2k

a/n: since I violently ripped all your hearts out with violets (even tho that was a request & not just me being evil) I thought it was only fair I made up for it as promised with the fluffiest fluff that's ever been fluffed. to reconcile the heartbreak, I offer a romantic valentine's date with our favorite human disaster, matty murdock. happy valentine's day my darlings. ❤️

“Shouldn’t I be the one leading you?”

“As far as anyone can tell, you are.”

“You know if you told me where we were going, I could.”

“That would ruin the surprise. Not to mention, you still haven’t familiarized yourself with Hell’s Kitchen yet.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust my sense of direction?”

“Considering you get lost on your two block walk home from work at least once a week, absolutely not. If I let you direct us, it would be like the blind leading the blind.”

“Hey! I’ve gotten better, thank you very much. And, there is this magical little app that gives you directions, Matthew.”

“Will you quit being stubborn?”

“Really? You get to say that to me?”

Matt chuckled as you two stopped at a crosswalk. He gave your interlaced hand a quick squeeze, turning his head in your direction to flash you a megawatt grin, complete with your favorite set of dimples that made you weak in the knees. He was turning that signature Matthew Murdock charm all the way up to eleven, and you both knew it would get him exactly what he wanted. It always did.

“Can I just surprise my girlfriend, please? I’m trying to be romantic here.”

Matt loved the way your heart skipped a beat everytime he referred to you as his girlfriend. He could feel the grin that spread across your lips, chuckling to himself as you huffed quietly and squeezed his hand back in return with a quiet grumble.

“Okay, fine. But if you trip, I want you to personally explain to everyone around us that it was your fault so I don’t look like a horrible person.”

“I’m fully prepared to defend you, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ve got my opening statement ready.”

It was a chilly February day in New York, but luckily the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly. You couldn’t tell if the warmth you felt was being radiated from the rays kissing your face or the man beside you caressing your hand. Matt could hear your heart rate start to pick up a bit once you finally started to piece together your surroundings.

“Are we-is this…is this Central Park?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Matt could practically feel you rolling your eyes as you laughed and squeezed his bicep.

“Matt!”

He couldn’t help but grin as he tugged your hand to lead you off the main path to find a secluded spot in the grass. He eventually settled on a spot close to a large tree, away from other couples that had the same idea. Folding up his cane, he let it drop by his feet as he shrugged his backpack off of his shoulders to retrieve a blanket from inside. Once the blanket was spread out across the grass, Matt sat down in the middle and held his hand out for you with a tender smile.

“Come here.”

A timid smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gently took Matt’s outstretched hand, moving to sit beside him on the blanket. You eyed him curiously as he laced your fingers together, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“What are you up to, Murdock?”

Matt brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a featherlight kiss to the back of your hand as a proud smile overtook his lips.

“You’ve been wanting to see Central Park since you moved to New York, and I’ve been promising to take you. Also, Karen let it slip that you’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day before, and well…neither have I, really. So, I thought we could share this first together.”

Your heart was going wild in your chest, and Matt could taste the saline that brimmed your waterline. Your hold on his hand became a little tighter as you swallowed the lump in your throat, leaning in to press your forehead against his as you laughed breathlessly.

“I had no idea you were such a hopeless romantic, Matty.”

“You bring it out in me, sweetheart. I just…wanted to do something special for you. For us.”

“Mm, I’d say a date in Central Park is pretty damn romantic.”

“Oh? And what if I said we were having a picnic?”

Matt gently nudged your nose with his, finding himself mirroring the huge grin that took over your mouth after you gasped. Falling into a synchronized fit of giggles, you cupped Matt’s jaw as his other hand found it’s home on your neck.

“I’d say you’re lucky we’re in public.”

“What do you think the blanket is for?”

“Matthew!”

“Relax, I’m joking.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”

Matt grinned wickedly as he leaned in to capture your lips in a deep kiss, reveling in the way you instantly melted into his embrace. That was one of his favorite things about you. Everytime he pulled you into his arms and held you close, or kissed you deeply, he could feel your body physically relax into his touch. He chased your mouth when you pulled away, eyebrows furrowing slightly until he felt your fingers gently removing the crimson glasses from his face. 

A shy smile covered his lips as you cupped his jaw once again with both hands, leaning in to peck his lips slightly.

“There you are, handsome.”

The first time you saw Matt without his glasses, you told him you thought he had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. It took everything in him not to cry at the sincerity in your words. Ever since then, you begged him not to wear them around you, unless it was to make himself feel more comfortable if you two were in a public space. He nuzzled his face into your palm, always finding himself melting into your touch just as much as you did with him. 

He hadn’t realized just how touch starved he’d been until he met you. You were a very affectionate person. Even the first night you met, you’d hugged Matt goodbye like he was an old friend you hadn’t seen in years. He found himself craving your touch the more you came around, even feeling agitated or jealous if he felt like Foggy or Karen were getting more of your attention than he was. 

Matt started asking you to lead him every chance he got just to have you close. There was an unspoken rule between him, Karen, and Foggy that you would always take the seat closest to Matt wherever the four of you went. He always asked you to be his partner in pool at Josie’s. A few times when he felt emboldened by the liquid courage coursing through his veins, he’d slip his fingers through yours and hold your hand in his lap. The more you responded to his touch, the more pride swelled in his chest.

The first night you took the initiative and grabbed his hand first, he felt you tense up slightly. He knew it was wrong to take advantage of your alcohol induced state to ask questions he knew you couldn’t help but blurt out the truth to, but he desperately wanted to know why you were more cautious with your affection towards him than the others. After you drunkenly confessed it was purely because you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries of his, or make him uncomfortable in any way, Matt made sure you understood that he didn’t find anything you did a threat to his independence. As a matter of fact, he actually enjoyed how much you went out of your way to make sure he felt comfortable and included. You made him feel seen in a way he’d never experienced before.

“Hi pretty girl.”

“What are you thinking about, hm? You look like you went somewhere else for a minute.”

“Just thinking about the night you confessed your undying love for me.”

“Oh, God.”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh loudly as you pulled away from him, covering your face with a disgruntled whine. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in close between his legs so that your back was pressed against his chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wooing me, not embarrassing me?”

“What’s more romantic than the night you told me you were in love with me?”

“The ending of Carrie.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“I puked in the bushes.”

“Because you challenged Foggy to shots on an empty stomach.”

“I was…going through something. Mind your business.”

Matt snickered as he nudged his nose against your cheek, tightening his arms around your waist.

“You were upset because you thought I’d gone on a date, and you were so…heartbroken.”

“You are such an ass, I can’t stand you.”

“I was just calling to tell you I hope you’re enjoying your date and that I decided I’m no longer in love with you and will be finding your replacement tonight.”

You groaned loudly and let your head fall back against Matt’s chest as he mimicked your voice, wishing the ground would open wide and swallow you whole. 

“Why do you even remember that so vividly?”

“Because I don’t think I’ve ever gotten out of bed so fast. I had to make sure I got there in time before I was replaced.”

“I liked you better when you were being a sappy romantic.”

Matt lightly grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger to turn your head towards him gently, baring his teeth in a huge grin before leaning in to kiss your lips softly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll pause the walk down memory lane. For now.”

A devilish smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, and you would’ve been annoyed if it didn’t make him look so damn good. Matt reached for his backpack and proceeded to pull out various items that he spread out over the blanket. You watched in awe as he produced a bottle of your favorite wine along with two glasses, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, and a container of pizza from the Italian restaurant where you two had your first date.

“How the hell did you fit all of that in there?”

“I’m a really good lawyer.”

A fit of giggles immediately erupted from your mouth as you sank back into Matt’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his own laughter vibrating against your back.

“Is that what they taught you in law school?”

“Oh, there was a whole semester alone on surprising your girlfriend with a romantic picnic in Central Park. Very informative.”

For the next few hours, you and Matt traded memories between stolen kisses and slices of pizza. You had him rolling over in laughter as you tried to feed him a chocolate covered strawberry with your eyes closed, “to make it fair” you’d insisted, but you kept missing and bumping his nose with it instead. As Matt topped off your glasses with the last of the wine, he held his glass out towards yours with a satisfied smile.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Your heart fluttered in your ribcage, and Matt’s smile only grew wider. You lightly clinked your glass against his in a toast, a smile full of content gracing your lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Matty. It’s the best one I’ve ever had.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

Matt rubbed gentle circles on your lower back as you laid on his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to you describe the sunset spreading across the sky above. He always went to you when he wanted to know what something looked like. You had a way with words and descriptions that made him feel like he could actually see what you were seeing. As the sun began to disappear into shades of deepening amethyst and navy, the warmth bid goodbye with it. He felt you shiver slightly as the temperature began to descend along with the moon.

“We can start heading back if you’re cold, sweetheart.”

“Can we stay just a little longer? I wanna show you the stars. We’ll be able to see Venus and Jupiter soon.”

Matt felt his chest swell with pure adoration at your words. He pulled you as close to his body as he physically could, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he sighed quietly in content.

“Of course we can, angel.”

“Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He would never get tired of hearing you say that.

“I love you, sweetheart. More than you know.”

“Thank you for today. It really meant a lot to me. I do feel bad I didn’t get you anything, though. I mean you did all this-”

Matt cut your words off with a kiss, cradling your face in his hand as he nuzzled his nose against yours with a tender smile.

“Hey, you are my gift. The greatest one I’ve ever gotten. I don’t need anything else but you.”

Matt closed his eyes once again as he listened to you paint the night sky behind his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so relaxed and at peace, not a single worry plaguing his mind. He allowed your sweet voice and gentle touch to transport him to a place of pure serenity that he was only able to visit when he was with you. 

Matt Murdock didn’t think he’d ever have a reason to celebrate Valentine’s Day, but he was more than happy it was you.

[brokebonewritings]

can you do one where reader hasn’t ever dated anyone, or gone on a date and kissed anyone before bc of anxiety and being shy, and somehow you’re friends with matt and the gang (maybe from law school? idk) and foggy and karen keep telling you matt likes you but you don’t believe it until he tells you himself, and then you’re at a loss for how to proceed since you have 0 experience 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

My friend. Anything for you, especially since you’re my first request in a long time! So thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this little story 🤍

Sincerely, Anxiety.

Matt Murdock x reader

Tags/ Warning: Pure Cane Fluff

Word Count: 2.1K

Navigation | Masterlist

You sat quietly at the cafe booth you currently resided in. Waiting. Currently you’re waiting for your friends as they slowly filtered into the coffee shop. Karen joins you as she gets her coffee, the both of you catching up from the weekend. Foggy and Matt join 15 minutes later. 

The lot of you sit around the table and talk about the previous week. Cases you are all working on, your families, dates. Not that you have been on any date. Your social anxiety was far too bad to do any of that. 

“Okay, well we have to know.” Karen says. “Are you and Marci getting back together?” This was directed towards Foggy. His cheeks caught a tint of pink before he cleared his throat.

“I mean, I don’t know. It was just a date.��� He replied.

You turn and give Karen a side eyed look before smiling. “So is there another date?” 

“You guys suck you know that?” Foggy mutters. “Yeah, we’re planning a second date.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle next to you, as you shake your head and take a sip of coffee. You stare at the way his eyes crinkle out of the side of his glasses. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies. Focusing on your cup a little too intensely, you realize Foggy had been calling your name after a few minutes.

“Huh?” You look up from the cup “What happened?”

“Karen asked how your date went?” Foggy replied. Out of the corner of your eye you see Matt tense a bit. Karen noticed as well as Foggy. You sat in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t go.” You said quietly.

“What?” Matt said abruptly. 

“Yeah, what?” Karen cleared her throat, in confusion.

“I just,” You start, rubbing the back of your neck. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew it would turn out bad.”

Now it was Foggy and Karen’s turn to look at each other in a knowing way. The dating conversation was dropped and everyone continued to finish their coffee. Once you are all determined to be done for the day you all part ways.

It was nice to see your friends almost daily. It helped that you all worked closely together. Karen, Matt and Foggy shared an office, and you worked right up the street in a PI office. 

What wasn’t nice was torturing yourself by seeing Matt almost daily. Your hands were always clammy when you were near him. Heart beating slightly faster whenever you accidentally brush your hands. You really had it bad for Matt, and could you blame yourself? Yes, you always did blame yourself.

You and Karen walk through Central Park on a leisurely stroll. It wasn’t too often that the both of you got to hang out, so when it did happen it was nice. You both giggle as you make fun of Foggy and Matt the previous night at Josies. They had been arguing over what had happened on a particular night in college.

“What a great day for a picnic! This was a great idea!.” Karen exclaimed. 

“Right? I’m glad you were able to come.” You smile warmly at her. “Especially without the boys.”

Stopping on the top of a small hill, you both begin setting up for your little lunch. It really was a nice day out. It was cloudy and the park wasn’t packed for once. The small basket was quaint, but nothing too fancy.

“You said you needed to talk to me about something?” You asked after a moment. The both of you continue setting out small plates and cups. She looks up for a moment, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat.

“Right…” She starts. “It’s about the other day at the coffee shop. Foggy and I noticed that Matt looked surprised when I mentioned the date.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Did you tell him about the date?” She asks curiously. No. The answer was that simple. You didn’t know how to speak to Matt like a regular person. A big part of that was because you liked him. Another part was that you were too shy around him, and why would he be interested in someone that can’t even speak up at a bar.

“I didn’t think he would react the way he did.” You finally respond. Karen’s lips flattened, obviously she disapproved of your answer. You decide to ignore the look on her face as you pour the both of you a cup of lemonade.

“You know he likes you right?” Her comment makes you spill a little juice on the blanket. “Wait… did you not know?”

“Did I not know?!” You choke out. The reaction coming out of you was actually laughable. Honestly, how could you have known. The man likes to keep secrets, you knew he was good at it too. “He can’t possibly like me. I’m definitely not his type.”

“He’s got it bad for you, y/n.” She says. “Maybe you should just shoot your shot.”

“I don’t think he does though.” You admit quietly. “Even if he did the what if he rejects me?”

“He won’t.” She takes the small sandwiches out of the basket before putting one on a plate for you. “He talks about you constantly, and you know he doesn’t date anyone?”

“He doesn’t?” You take the plate and hand her a small bowl of salad in return. “Not even his infamous one night stands?”

Karen shakes her head and knits her eyebrows together. “He hasn’t spoke about that in a long time actually. Point is, he’s confided in Foggy about being smitten by you.”

The red tint on your cheeks didn’t hide the fact that you felt the same way. You very much were smitten by him too. However there was one thing that was holding you back. Your anxiety. How could possibly tell Matt that you felt the same way.

“Wait, why are you telling me this?” You ask, and she snorts in response.

“Are you kidding me? Foggy and I are kind of tired of the both of you dancing around each other.”

“You mean to tell me, that Mr. Confidence is anxious about telling me he likes me?”

She nods in response as she eats her salad. You focus on your own food for a moment before speaking up.

“I’ve actually never been on a date before.” You begin. “And I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Karen’s head flies up as she stares at you with wide eyes. “No way!”

You blush and nod. It really was never your fault. Your people skills in High School were very limited. Even after you entered college they were limited. Working as a private investigator helped a little but not a lot.

“I don’t even know where to begin in asking someone out.” You admit.

She considers the statement for a moment. “Then maybe we should come up with a plan.”

The smirk on her face says it all. For the rest of the picnic the both of you devise a scheme to tell Matt how you feel and a way to ask him on a proper date.

The week had come and gone in a flash. You all gather at Josies for your Friday night rituals. Same Table, Same Drinks, and Same People. Karen quickly takes a seat next to Foggy, which leaves you to sit next to Matt. You set your drink down before sliding into the chair. Matt looks over and smiles at you.

“Hey.” He says softly.

“Hi Matt.” You reply in the same tone. A blush slowly rises from your neck. The smile he gives you makes the butterflies that were in your stomach migrate to your chest. The warmth of his body sitting next to yours was comforting.

Throughout the night, everyone laughed and drank the woes of the work week away. Liquid confidence crawls through your vein, and once you have gotten enough of it you look at Karen and nod at her.

“Oh hey Matt! Y/n had something at their apartment for you!” Karen says abruptly changing the current topic. He raises an eyebrow before turning to face you.

“What would that be?” He asks curiously.

“Oh. Well, just a late Easter gift.” You stutter. “You’re still catholic right?”

Matt lets out a loud laugh which makes you smile. ‘Take a breath’ you tell yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I am still Catholic.” He replies. “Why don’t we go now. It’s getting a bit late.”

You nod, and give Karen and Foggy a smile. Of course in good Nelson manner, the other man gives you a thumbs up. Karen winks and mouths a quick ‘Good Luck’ before you and Matt stand and make your way out of the bar.

It's crisp outside. Not enough to need a jacket, but you could tell that summer was quickly turning into autumn. You both walk mostly in silence, besides the little jokes you both made to each other. It was crazy to think that the pining was mutual between you two. Outsiders could look and think you were already in a comfortable relationship. 

Once you arrive at your apartment, you open the door and allow the both of you to enter. Setting your stuff on your counter, you offer Matt a glass of water. Happily he takes it and sit at your kitchen table.

“Wait right here a moment.” You say before disappearing into your room. Closing the door behind yourself, you lean against and take a big breath. Like you had been holding it in for ages.

You walk over to your small desk and retrieve the gift you had actually bought the day before. It was a small little box with a letter inside. Written in braille of course. Underneath the letter was a ticket to a candlelight orchestra.

Taking another deep breath, you step out from your room and head straight for Matt. He is waiting patiently in the same place he was before.

“Happy Easter, Matty.” You say quietly before handing him the small box. He grins as he takes it, opening it slowly.

His fingers gracefully take the letter out of the box before he sets it on the table.

“Braille?” He cocks an eyebrow. You nod.

“I wrote it myself.” A small smile forms on your face. Turns out learning how to read braille was hard. You had started it as a hobby a few years prior, and it finally came in handy.

Setting the paper on the table. His fingers glide over the page. You can see the smile growing on his face. Once he finishes reading your note, he turns his head in your direction. Anticipating his answer you forget to breathe.

“You like me?” He says shakily.

“Yeah, Matt. I really do.” You say with the rest of your breath.

His hand stretches out towards you and you grab his in return. You were shaking from the anxiety building up. He chuckles lightly when he feels the small tremors.

“And you want to go on a date with me?” You nod after his question.

“Only if you want to.” You let out.

“Of course I want to.” He says. “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“You did?” The realization was settling on your face. Karen had been telling the truth after all.

“Yeah and you know what Karen told me?” 

“Hm?

“That you have never been on a date.” He grins. “And never been kissed.”

You were going to kill her. That’s on you though, she was the reason you were asking Matt out anyways. Your cheeks burned bright red as you stared at him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Matt Murdock.”

“Me? Or will it be your anxiety?” He quips.

“Touche.”

The night went on until the sun came up. It was the longest conversation you had ever mustered the courage to have with him. Nothing was awkward about it either. It was like you both had been friends forever, which was somewhat true. Maybe this was the start of a huge stepping stone in your life. 

Matt didn’t seem to be bothered by your anxiety anyways. He always knew how to get around the minefields in your head. That's what drew you to him to begin with. Hopefully the first date would turn into more. You could only hope.

Secretly you thanked Karen for the way she helped you ask Matt out. Maybe all you needed was that one simple push. When he finally decided to go home, he wouldn’t let go of your hand. It was like he had become attached to you.

“I promise I’ll call you later.” He says

“Or maybe we can get some coffee once you do wake up?” You suggested.

“It’s date then.”

“Okay fine. It’s a date.” You say with a smile pushing him out your door.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 4, Chapter 3

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 4

Chapter 3

Several days later…

The streets were quiet. Again.

Matt perched on the rooftop of one of the new residential buildings on West 49th street, and took the pulse of the city spread out below him.

It was quiet. Eerily so.

The drug pushers that usually worked the streets near the convention centre were gone. The network of muggers and pickpockets around the bus terminal had been disbanded. The smugglers and traffickers who ruled the docks were out of business.

Matt had spent the the last week intercepting the odd car jacker and petty thief, but the organised crime gangs that used to keep him busy on patrol were just…gone. According to Karen, a mysterious figure named Ronin had cleaned up the neighbourhood - and the rest of New York - soon after ‘The Vanishing’. He’d been so effective in his methods that no one had dared rekindle any sort of criminal enterprise in the years since.

Which meant Ronin had done in 6 months what Matt had failed to do in 3 years: make Hell’s Kitchen safe.

Unfortunately, he’d done it through a whole lot of brutal slaughter and intimidation. And no matter the end result, Matt could never condone those sorts of means.

Besides, he knew it wouldn’t last. Not now that all of the career criminals and would-be underworld rulers who’d disappeared five years ago were back. Once they figured out the lay of this new land, they’d start trying to claim their piece of it. They’d fill the voids left by those before them, undeterred by urban myths about a hooded samurai. Criminals would once again infect this city, and Matt would be there, ready to stop them.

Including Landon Cross.

All the money and influence in the world hadn’t stopped him from falling victim to the random fate of Thanos’ snap. He’d disappeared five years ago, upending the entire timeline of his grand plan of revenge against his family. The criminal empire he’d been building had tumbled down without him at the helm…but he’d be back too. Once he licked his wounds and found his new footing, he’d be back. Men like him - entitled, narcissistic sociopaths - didn’t have the capacity to admit defeat and slink off into the night.

He’d be back. And in the meantime, Matt would wait. And use the time to re-familiarise himself with his home.

His first venture out as Daredevil had been disorientating. He was used to New York real estate changing - it was constantly in flux, with buildings being demolished and new skyscrapers being erected all the time - but those changes were slow and gradual. Easy to adapt to.

They didn’t usually happen in the blink of an eye.

Right now, Hell’s Kitchen felt like a stranger. The streets he’d grown up on, lived on, worked on, walked on…they were all alien to him now. Storefronts were boarded up. Dozens of new businesses had replaced the ones he’d frequented his whole life. The silhouette of the skyline had drastically changed, as if someone had picked up buildings like they were lego blocks and shifted them around. 

Earlier tonight, Matt had ventured beyond the streets of his neighbourhood, too ‘see’ for himself how much New York had altered. Citi Field - once home of the Mets - was now weather-beaten and crumbling, with hundreds of rusted cars abandoned in the parking lot around the vacant stadium. The harbour around Ellis Island was filled with boats, their waterlogged cabins sloshing with the tide, and the rotted wood of their hulls creaking. The normally manicured gardens of Central Park were overgrown jungles. Times Square - normally buzzing with tourists and the sounds of thousands of neon lights - was vacant. Silent.

Everywhere he turned, there was decay and neglect. As if life hadn’t moved on at all after 2018.

As if the whole world had ended, instead of just half of it.

Matt found it all depressing as hell. This wasn’t the resilient, irrepressible city he knew.

Where was the fight? Where was the tenacious spirit? The unbeaten strength?

Had everyone really just…given up…five years ago?

———

There was one bright spot among the grey and lifeless remains. A small beacon of vitality and warmth that had escaped the apathetic, subdued and defeated air that seemed to permeate the rest of the city. It was the house that Karen shared with her daughter, Izzy, in a quiet residential area just north of Brooklyn.

Matt visited for the first time just over a week after his return. He stood on the porch, gift in hand, shifting on his feet as he waited for Karen to answer the door. He touched the paper in his pocket, smoothing his thumb over the now barely perceptible ink as if needing to take strength from the words. And he did need a bit of strength - he felt nervous as hell.

Which was ridiculous. Karen was one of his closest friends. They’d had dinner numerous times over the years. And when she’d called him up yesterday to invite him over for a home-cooked meal, the offer had been a casual one.

But he was still nervous. Because he wasn’t just having dinner with Karen - he was meeting her daughter for the first time. And, for some reason, it felt vitally important that the almost 2-year-old girl living in this house liked him.

The door opened before he could psych himself out any further.

“Hi! Welcome!” Karen’s happy greeting sounded a little too forced, her voice pitched a touch higher than normal. To his relief, Matt realised she was just as nervous as he was.

“Hey, Karen.” Matt stepped closer and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Thank you for having me over,” he replied.

Karen frowned. Then she covered her face with her hand and laughed. “This is weird, isn't it? We’ve had dinner so many times, and we’ve been in each others’ apartments loads other times, but suddenly we’re acting all formal with each other.”

Matt shrugged as she ushered him inside. “This isn’t like before. Not really.”

“I guess. But I want it to be. I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us. I want us to be friends again.”

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll always be friends.”

“I know. I didn’t really mean it like that. I just…I feel like we need to re-learn our rhythm. To get back to how we used to be.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“No, you are. I get it.”

He did get it. And ‘re-learning the rhythm’ was a good way to put it. It described the way Matt felt about the whole world these days - like he was slightly out of step with everything around him.

Off kilter, and out of place.

Dancing to a beat that hadn’t been heard in five years.

He touched the note in his pocket again, knowing it was part of the reason he felt so disoriented by this new reality. One of the other reasons - the literal personification of the changes that had taken place in his absence - chose that moment to make her presence known. “Momma?”

Karen looked up as the small voice called out to her. She smiled. “Someone’s awake from her nap.”

Matt swallowed, the nerves returning. He’d faced off against gangs of thugs and an army of ninjas. He’d taken down a cabal of immortal tyrants, and a Kingpin who’d terrorised the city. And yet he was scared to meet one little girl. “I’ll wait down here while you see to her,” he said.

“Don’t be silly,” Karen replied, grabbing his arm. “Come on.”

She led him up the stairs to the small nursery at the front of the house. She pushed open the door, and an excited squeal sounded from inside. Matt could sense a crib up against the wall and a tiny figure gripping the bars, bouncing up and down on her little legs. “Momma!”

“Hi, Izzy-Bizzy,” Karen murmured lifting the little girl into her arms. “Oof, you’re getting so big.”

“Big!” Izzy repeated.

“Soon you’ll be able to climb out of this thing yourself, and then what will I do?” She nuzzled into the toddler’s neck and Izzy laughed. The two of them seemed lost in their own little world, a world of coconut-scented hair, and stuffed bears, and the stars that spun on a mobile above the crib.

Matt felt so out of place, a lumbering shadow in the corner of the room. He tried to edge towards the door, but Karen noticed before he could escape. She turned around and brought her daughter closer. “Izzy, this is a friend of mine. He’s called Matt. Can you say ‘hello’?”

Matt expected the little girl to shy away. To bury herself in Karen’s arms, safe from the dark figure looming over her. But she was as fearless as her mom. She reached out one arm and waved at him. “Hello! Hi!,” she greeted him, not a hint of fear in her piping little voice.

Matt smiled and touched the tip of his finger to her outstretched palm. “Hi.”

She grabbed his finger and wiggled it up and down. Karen laughed. “She just learned about shaking hands,” she explained.

“Oh, in that case” - Matt arranged their hands until they were clasped together properly, his large hand swallowing her fragile little fingers, and gently shook up and down - “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Isabelle.”

The little girl burst into giggles, and Karen joined her laughter, pressing a kiss to her sleep-tussled curls. Karen shook her head at Matt, and smiled. “Another female charmed by Matt Murdock.”

Matt smiled, knowing he was the one who was thoroughly charmed.

———

The charm offensive continued throughout dinner, and afterwards when they all retreated to the cosy living room. As evening bled into night, and as Matt reclined in one of the softly-cushioned sofas, comfortably full from Karen’s cooking, Izzy toddled over to him. “Read?” she asked, thrusting a large book at him.

Before he could respond, she scrambled up onto sofa and wriggled into the space beside him, getting comfortable for what must be her nightly routine.

Matt smiled ruefully as he turned the book in his hands. “I can’t read this to you, I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

Karen saved him from having to try to explain the concept of blindness to a toddler. She entered the room, coffees in hand, and noticed his predicament. “Oh honey, Matt can’t read books like that. His eyes don’t work like yours and mine do.”

Matt could sense Izzy looking up at him. Then she clambered into his lap, reached up and removed his dark glasses. Pudgy little fingers pressed against his face as she tilted it one way and another, inspecting the eyes in question.

“Izzy!” Karen admonished. “Sorry, Matt, she hasn’t grasped the concept of personal space yet. Let me get her off you.”

“She’s okay,” he replied, submitting to the little girl’s scrutiny. He didn’t mind the weight of her on his lap, or the none-too-gentle exploring fingers. Warmth radiated from her skin and her breath smelled like the tinned peaches she’d had for dessert, and he had the sudden urge to take her in his arms and cuddle her close.

He’d never seriously thought about having children. Growing up, it had seemed like too far-off a possibility to contemplate. Then, when he reached the age of contemplation, his lifestyle had been too dangerous and chaotic for children. And when he discovered Calina couldn’t have kids, he’d put any and all thoughts of fatherhood away.

But sitting here, with this bundle of energy and sweetly mischievous innocence in his lap, he finally understood the impulse. She was a little miracle. He could sense fragments of Karen’s character within her, but she was her own little person, bravely exploring the world around her.

Having finished her exploration of his ‘different’ eyes, the little miracle grabbed the book from his hands, and turned around to face Karen. “Momma?”

“You want me to read instead?”

Izzy nodded.

“Do you want to come sit with me?”

She shook her head, and flopped back against Matt, settling into the crook of his arm.

“Okay then,” Karen smiled. She sat back in her own chair and started reading the tale of Kevin the Koala. Her voice took on a soft, slow, lilting tone - one which had a dramatically soporific effect on the little girl in Matt’s arms. Within minutes, her eyes fluttered closed. Her little breaths got deeper and her negligible weight got a little more tangible as she drifted off to sleep. 

“Is it always this quick?” Matt whispered. The only thing he knew about babies and sleep was that it was usually a struggle.

“Not always. But she had a swimming lesson this afternoon and that tends to wear her out.” Karen’s voice was shaky as she replied. A little broken. As if she was holding back tears.

“Are you okay?”

She laughed quietly. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess. Seeing you two together, it’s kind of surreal. I thought about this so much when I was pregnant, and when Izzy was a baby. Of how you and Foggy would be with her…I just never thought I’d get a chance to find out.”

Matt smiled sadly, the spectre of those missing five years raising its head again. It was impossible to escape, even for a moment. Everything around him was a haunting reminder of the time he’d lost. From this house, and the journey here earlier tonight - down streets he didn’t recognise - to the toddler asleep on his lap, and the note burning a hole in his pocket…

“How are you adjusting?” Karen asked, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts. “We haven’t had a chance to really talk about that - Izzy takes up a lot of the air in the room.”

“In a good way,” Matt smiled.

“In a very good way - it’s hard to be depressed or worried when she’s around. But I want to know how you’re doing.”

Matt huffed out a laugh. “I’m still waiting to wake up, if I’m honest. It doesn’t seem real.”

“It’s a lot to take in. But it’s only been eight days - it’ll get easier.”

Matt wasn’t so sure. He felt like there was only one thing that would make this easier, and it wasn’t time.

“Have you heard from Calina?” Karen asked, reading his mind again.

Matt sighed and fished the note from his pocket, careful not to wake Izzy. He held it up to show Karen.

“What is that? Braille?”

Matt nodded. “I found it shoved under my apartment door a couple of nights ago.” He rubbed his thumb over the raised dots on the piece of paper. He knew the pattern of those dots - and the short message they conveyed - by heart now. “‘Calina is alive and safe. She’ll be with you in a couple of weeks’,” he recited.

“Why does that sound like a badly written ransom note?”

Matt laughed. “I’m hoping it was written by one of the more…socially inept…Widows, and it wasn’t meant to come across so-”

“Vaguely threatening?”

“Yeah.”

“But its good news, though. Calina’s alive. She’s safe.”

That had been his first thought too, when he’d discovered the note in his hallway after returning from a night of patrolling. He’d collapsed to his knees with relief, his head bowed as he fought back tears. The confirmation that she was still out there, still breathing, her beautiful heart still beating…it was all he’d been praying for after returning to this strange world to find her gone.

But over the next few days, as he carried the note in his pocket - his fingers constantly drawn to it like a talisman - he realised the message carried with it far more questions than answers.

“If she’s so safe, why didn’t she contact me herself?” he asked Karen, voicing one of those questions.

“She could be on a classified mission, way off the grid. That wouldn’t be unusual for her.”

Matt nodded. It was one of the possibilities he’d considered. Although the idea of it just served to remind him how different her life was now. She’d been on missions - dangerous ones - multiple times over the past five years. She’d risked her life God-knows how many times.

And she was still off somewhere unknown, instead of here with him.

“What was she like, after it happened?” he forced himself to ask, not sure he wanted the answer.

Karen sighed. Then she was silent for several long moments, as if trying to order her thoughts - which made Matt even more hesitant to hear the truth.

“She struggled at first. A lot,” Karen finally replied. “I worried about her those first couple of years. She tried to hide how much she was hurting, but not very well. Then…”

“Then what?”

“Something changed. She seemed to get better. Stronger.”

Something in Karen’s voice worried Matt. “What aren’t you saying?”

“She became…not cold, exactly. But…more reserved. More remote. She was still kind and caring - you should see her with Izzy, the two of them adore each other - but a large part of her seemed walled off. I think she took all her pain and grief and buried it so far down inside that that she ended up burying some of her heart along with it.” Karen winced at what she must have seen on his face. “I’m sorry. I’m not saying this to hurt you-”

“I know.”

“But I think…when you do see her again, you need to be prepared for the change in her.”

“I don’t care how much she’s changed. I just want to see her. Talk to her. I need to. I miss her so much, Karen.” He felt like he was floundering in this new world. Adrift without his anchor. He could put on a good act when he needed to - like tonight - laughing and talking as if he was adjusting to this upheaval. But in reality, it felt like only his body had returned a week ago…

His heart and soul were still missing.

————–

Chapter 4 coming soon...

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

[edencherries]

Of stitches and laughs

word count - 1.1k

frank castle x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of grief and guilt, pining, pet names (sweetheart), acquaintances to friends (to idiots in love), no use of y/n, proof read a couple of times but let me know if i missed something.

thank you for reading!!

The memory hurts, but does me no harm - Abstract (Psychopomp)

Frank never believed in the concept of souls. Mainly because he was not convinced a man like him could have one, maybe years ago, before that fateful day at Central Park, when he was a family man. Now, he was pretty sure it was all bullshit. It was like a switch flipped, he lived for one reason and one reason only; revenge. He had to make it right, he had to make sure the score was even and he would not rest until it was, plain and simple. A part of him wanted to listen to Curtis, to Karen, and just give it a rest. Simply say enough. But he could not bring himself to do it. Not when he could still see the image of Lisa, his babygirl, asking to be tucked into bed. Frank had nothing to his name, but he would give and do anything to go back and do what she had asked of him that night. 

See, it nagged him, that voice that reminded him of every moment he missed and every moment that never got to be. It whispered in his ear at night when his eyes were feeling heavy, when he felt the slightest bit of joy, when he walked through streets he once walked through with his family. No he could not rest until he was done, even though he knew he probably would never be. That grief and anger would always live nestled between his ribs, pushing against his lungs and not allowing him to breathe.

You understood, you always did. There were good and bad days. The days where he would smile big and his eyes crinkle, his laugh filling the room. Most of your days were like this, your love broke down the haphazardly built wall Frank had around his heart, slipped in through the cracks quietly every time you patched him up. He did not intend for it to happen, you were a friend of a friend, vouched for and deemed trustworthy enough to know he was not just Frank, to know what laid within. He had tried his hardest to keep you at arm's length, close enough to crack a joke or two but never allowing himself to give into the desperate desires of his heart. You, on the other hand, knew you had no other choice but to love him however he allowed you to. You knew what he had been through, so you sat there, patching him up and talking to him. 

“...I don’t have as many as you, obviously, but I have a couple of scars of my own”, the humor was evident in your voice. The corner of your mouth quirked up while your eyes alternated between his frown and the cut you were stitching in his bicep. His eyes look away from the window across your kitchen table and look at you, something akin to fondness in them.

“You don’t say?” His voice is deep and gravely and you don’t think you can or will ever get used to it. You nod your head with a pleased hum.

“Yup, got my first scar when I was six. I was getting on the school bus and tripped on the steps, planted face first in front of everyone. I was mortified so I decided to pretend it didn’t happen. When i got to my seat i noticed my pants had blood on my right leg, i cut myself on the shin when I fell and it left a little indented scar.” A small grunt in acknowledgement is the only response you get, you’re used to it. He is hanging on to your every word, whether you notice it or not, your hands are working dexterously on his arm and your voice is simply his new favorite sound.

“How does it feel?” He flexes his arm, the pain barely there by his standards, and nods giving you a thumbs up. You giggle and it goes through his heart like an arrow on fire.

“Can I see?” Your head tilts to the side, he clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “The scar on your leg, I mean.”

“Oh! Right, yes” lifting your leg on the chair you point out the small indent, barely visible unless you knew it was there, his eyes move slowly from your own down your form until they land on your old scar. He stares at it intently, a light chuckle leaves your mouth at the seriousness of his frown. “You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re staring at a gaping wound.” He scoffs.

“Yeah, laugh it up, smartass.” He straightens his spine as if pulled by a thread at the very top of his head, warm brown eyes piercing into your own. Your laugh only grows louder and brighter. Frank’s heart lurches as if trying to escape his chest and find its rightful home in your open palm and he cannot help his own bashful grin.

Frank’s mind is running at a thousand miles an hour, flooding him with memories of Maria, Lisa, Frankie, good and bad. His stare is fixed on you, his grin is growing into a smile. He can hear their laughs jumbled with yours, it does not sadden him, somehow. The memory of the past mingling with the present, becoming acquainted with each other, uniting by their shared love for him. The echoes of his rage, of his grief, remain but they can’t seem to hurt him, not now. 

Here, listening to your laugh, being on the receiving end of your loving stare, he feels safe. Maybe his friends are right, there is an after, a brighter tomorrow where there is space in his heart for those he has lost and those he has gained. He has been trapped within his pain, forced by his guilt into the herculean task of making it right, knowing there is no way to do so. 

Your voice breaks him from his trance, “Whaddya say, sweetheart?” he can feel his face warming at the realization that he has never called you that before, the endearment slipping from his tongue as if that had always been your name.

“Just checking if you’re still there, you looked like you went somewhere for a hot second” your brow was knitting in curiosity, Frank was almost overcome with the urge of kissing it, kissing you.

“Yeah, sweetheart, still here,” he took a sharp breath, “you won’t get rid of me that easy now.” Your teeth were digging into your lower lip, nodding along to his words. He can’t stop himself from looking , his eyes drawing down to your mouth like a magnet.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Castle.”

[nando161mando]

So much fear 😂

At Northwestern Uni a typical Karen tried to walk her dog through the encampment & called the police although she was there voluntarily, could move freely & was always FREE TO LEAVE. She tries to weaponizes her Jewish identity to make a mockery of actual victims of antisemitism. NUPD told her to leave.

Memories of the Central Park racist. In both cases I felt bad for the poor dogs.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

Okay again in the interest of getting through some of these larger, older asks, here is a bit less than 177 words, but more than 900 words:

---

“If Chim is doing it, I’m doing it.”

Karen sighs. “I was worried you’d say that.”

Karen is used to this, in a way. That’s what it’s like, being married to a first responder. She’s had to watch Hen walk into danger countless times, with no guarantee she’d come home. That’s the deal they were always used to, even before the end of the world. 

It’s no different now. Chim is her partner, still. Bobby may not be their captain anymore in so many words, but she will still follow him as though he is. He has never stopped protecting them like a captain. So she will go. Walk with them into danger. That’s still her job. That’s still who she is. 

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hen tells her. “It’ll be the three of us. Versus one flashlight.”

Hen doesn’t really have the confidence she’s saying she has. She just… Well, she doesn’t want Karen to worry. 

“Okay,” Karen says. She kisses Hen. A quick little peck, like it’s for good luck. “Then I’ll see you after.”

Hen smiles. “It’s probably nothing, right?”

Karen nods. “Probably.”

▪️▪️▪️

In the end, it’s four of them, not three. Athena joins them. Sits in the front seat with Bobby as they drive into town. Come to think of it, there are very few times over the past few days where Athena and Bobby haven’t done things together. Like they’ve fallen into each other’s orbits.

Interesting.

Hen and Chim give each other a look, both likely thinking the same thing. Neither of them comments, though. 

“The light was northeast of us,” Chim explains as they drive into town. “Could’ve been Polk Square?”

Polk Square is a little paved central area that used to be used for farmers’ markets and other community events. Live music. Festivals. It backs onto a little parkette. A few people tried setting up camp there during the beginning. It didn’t last long. 

“Let’s start there,” Bobby agrees. 

“Why would anyone go there?” Athena asks. “I imagine anything left in town has been raided.”

“By us mostly,” Hen agrees. 

“Maybe they’re like you?” Chim asks. “Returning to a place they used to live and looking for signs of life?”

“Hmm,” Athena nods. “True.

“There must be a reason why everything is happening at once,” Hen says. “Why is everyone able to make it here all within a week when we haven’t heard from a soul in months?”

“It’s easier to travel now,” Athena says. 

“Easier how?” Bobby asks. 

“The zombies are slower. Not all of them, but most.” Athena explains. “They’re fading a bit. Beginning to die off.”

Hen feels strange about that. It feels like a good thing and a bad thing. Like, thank god that threat is dwindling. But, what threat is next? Maybe that’s what they’re finding out today. 

▪️▪️▪️

There’s nothing in Polk Square or the nearby park to lead Hen, Bobby, Athena, or Chim to believe anyone is around. They scour the wreckage of the old encampments, but find no signs of recent life. 

“It was around this area though,” Chim says. “I’m certain of it.”

“What about about Pacific Armory?” Athena asks. “It’s just around the block from here.”

“The gun shop?” Bobby replies. “That was one of the first places raided. There’s nothing left.”

“Would someone new in town know that?” Athena challenges.

“And it’s more secure than a regular storefront,” Hen suggests. “If someone was nervous.”

“Fair enough,” Bobby replies. “Let’s check it out.”

They walk to Pacific Armory. A store Hen never had cause to visit before the end of the world. One that made her nervous just to walk by, honestly. She hates guns. Like, really hates them. Even now, while Chim, Bobby, and Athena all carry one, she’s holding onto an old ax from the old fire station. She knows how to shoot. They made sure she learned. But it’s a last resort for her. Hen was shot as a teenager. She knows what it’s like to be at the other end of what happens when someone pulls a trigger. She almost lost a kidney. And her life, obviously. It’s why she was drawn to being a paramedic in the first place, when she realized she wanted to be a first responder. 

So she doesn’t like guns. She knows how easily they can hit the wrong person, destroy someone. And the thought that whoever they’re looking for might be searching for more of them? Concerning. 

Pacific Armory is empty when they arrive. It doesn’t look much different than it did the last time they were here, months ago. Broken door. Boarded up windows. Ransacked shelves and racks. By the time they reached it, most everything had been taken already. Their stock of weapons and ammunition largely came from raiding houses. People owned more guns than Hen liked to think about. And not all of them hunted in their spare time. 

There is something different, Hen notices. A smell. An odor, really. One that brings her right back to a crop they had the opportunity to grow, if they so chose, based on what plants they were able to salvage for the gardens. But, despite Buck’s exactly two attempts at persuading them - and a secret little pout from Karen - they decided as a group wasn’t a good idea. Or, frankly, a good use of garden space.

[doctorkinktraveller]

Once Steven Moffat realised that the Weeping Angels suited Amy and Rory's final story, director Nick Hurran went location scouting.

He visited New York, and found a statue in Central Park which featured a man surrounded by stone cherubs, which represented peace and prosperity.

Moffat immediately created new Angels in their likeness, believing they would be a particularly sinister shape for the foe to take.

He also felt incredible pressure writing the script, as both Karen Gillan and Arthur Darvill insisted that their exits be final and irreversible, to have real emotional impact.

[gothamgothic]

Still not allowed in the lab (they are insisting I wait until Monday) so until then, it gives me a chance to tell you about the differences I've noticed between living in Central City, and Gotham.

Central City

Central City has a much nicer energy. People feel happier, more at ease, for the most part (I would say that I had encountered worse Karens in CC than in Gotham).

The Flash Museum is fantastic, if a bit cheesy at times. I go every time I visit my mum, because they add to it's collection frequently.

I once went on a tour of S.T.A.R. Labs for school, the gentleman who gave the tour was very enthusiastic, but made very little sense (we are in sixth grade). It was really cool.

Granite National Park is a treasure. I've found that some people didn't like our various school trips there? I never really understood that sentiment, the folks who care for that land have done a spectacular job.

The Flash family (is that what people call them collectively?) - a delight. The school I attended had a text chat where we send "sightings" pics to each other (they are always the most blurry photos).

Gotham City

Gotham has amazing architecture. I've not seen anything like it outside of Gotham, really. It's a mix of more gothic themes and modern architectural design that gives it a feeling of a noire novel.

The botanical gardens are stunning. I plan to visit them later today. If you get lucky, you can be there when one of the WE biotech team members are there, and can ask questions.

There is a surprising amount of things to do - an overwhelming amount really. You can go to three plays and a movie in a single night if you wanted to.

There is an unofficial "rogue watch" podcast.

There is ALSO one for "Robin Watch" which is dedicated to the entire gaggle of bats, not just Robin. It has become more like a gossip/theory podcast recently.

The rogue attacks are worse. Substantially. I cannot explain to you why. But they feel worse. In CC - they happened, sure, but I never felt unsafe. Gotham however? I don't know a single person who doesn't keep some form of self defense weapon on them at all times.