#how do you just move on from someone like karen page

[lesbiandardevil]

one thing about me is that i will draw mattkaren

#oh dhes been dead for years? #sorry i cant hear you #technically she hasnt died yet in the comics im reading rn sooo #i cant physically think about her dying i dont think ill survive #sorry to matt murdock who went on with his life but im gonna be forever stuck #how do you just move on from someone like karen page #id be devastated #so in the meantime i take every chance i get to draw them in love etc #now theyre back together hoorayy #panel redraw coming soon also #they make me so sick #i cant stand them #daredevil stuff #whatevs

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

false god - m. murdock

a/n: sorry if this is bad i did my best because i have been thinking about him a lot warnings: cursing, smut, cunninglus (reader recieving), exhibition (kind of?) matt has an oral fixation, praise, premarital activites, reader is deaf and uses hearing aids but it's only mentioned once, if i missed any let me know! word count: 1.8k summary: the night before your wedding, you and matt are starving. you want to order room service, matt wants to eat out. pairing: matt x fem!reader now playing: false god - taylor swift "but we might just get away with it/religion's in your lips/even if it's a false god/we'd still worship/we might just get away with it/the altar is my hips"

When the devil finally proposed to you, he did it amongst flames and darkness.

…

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as dramatic as that.

Matt had proposed to you in the empty office of Nelson, Murdock & Page where you had met, with the lights turned down and candles lighting up the air around you. It was romantic, just as the two of you deserved.

Planning took a long time, too, with flowers, dresses and food taking over your every thought.

But now, all of that was done. There was nothing to be worried about anymore, as you and Matt specifically requested that if anything were to go wrong, Foggy and Karen would take care of it the best they could and not alarm the two of you unless someone was either dying or threatening to kill you.

So, in less than twenty-four hours, you would be Mrs. Matt Murdock, doomed to a life of lawyer jargon and patching up wounds, with no way out. The thought made you giddy.

The ceremony was going to be held at the church, but the pair of you had moved in with each other a long time ago, so it felt weird to try and avoid each other the night before the wedding and the morning in your own apartment. So, you and your future husband, as well as your small wedding party, had booked a few rooms in a hotel near the church.

You both had your respective ‘last hurrah’ a few weeks prior, so there was really nothing to do after the rehearsal dinner other than head to your room and relax, waiting for your alarm to go off to start getting ready.

You had decided to take it easy, enjoying a glass of wine after what you deemed to be an ‘everything’ shower, taking all the necessary precautions to feel like your best self on your wedding day. You had even bought yourself a nice silk pajama set, white, just like your rehearsal dress, and just like your wedding dress.

Your wedding dress hung freshly steamed in the closet of the hotel room, your shoes placed neatly beneath it. Your jewelry and accessories were laid out neatly on the dresser across from the bed. Your wedding ring sat in a box, inscribed with your husband’s name on it. He sat next to it, your name in braille on the inside of the ring.

In the morning, your mom, your sister, Karen, Marci and the woman who had been doing your hair and makeup for every major life event would be there, coffee in Karen’s hands, as your soon to be husband and his best friend got ready together, reminiscing on how they had landed themselves here.

Everything was perfectly set in place. Your job now was to just get married, and really, how hard could that be?

So, with your wine, you tuck yourself into bed with full intentions of getting a good night’s rest in your silky bridal pajamas.

Except, your job was almost done. There were no more seating arrangements to make, no one else to chase after for an RSVP, no more fittings, and no more menus to create to adhere to you and your soon to be husband’s particular tastes.

So, for the first time in weeks, you weren’t stressed at all.. Which left you with one conclusion:

You missed Matt.

You had seen him a few hours ago for the rehearsal dinner, but you were suddenly left with the conclusion that you were aching for the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.

Before you realized what you were doing, you were calling him.

On the second ring, he answered.

“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Hi. Everything’s great.”

A pause.

“Okay, do you want to talk about anything..?”

“There’s nothing else to do, Matty!” You’re out of bed and pacing now. “I’m stress free, and I can’t even be with you!”

You hear his laugh from the other side of the line, and it makes your heart flutter.

“We have the rest of our lives to spend the night together, baby.” He must have had a drink or two like you, because ‘baby’ is his tipsy nickname for you.

“I know, but I miss you now. And I’m hungry.” You tell him.

“Do you want to come over, order room service, and make out?”  He grins. “You just have to leave before midnight, it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding.”

You’re putting on your slippers when you pause and consider this for a minute.

“Matt, You’re blind.”

“And you’re deaf, don’t forget your hearing aids, baby.”

“How drunk are you right now? How would I be talking to you if I didn’t have them in right now?” You question.

A pause.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” His voice is softer now, and before you know it, you’re out the door and walking down the hallway.

He opens the door before you can knock, because of all the men in New York, you’ve landed the one with heightened abilities.

“Hi.” You grin, but he doesn’t respond. He simply leans down and picks you up bridal style, much to your objection. He kicks the door behind him closed before he carries you to the bed. He lays you down on it, finding himself on top of you.

“Silk?” He asks gently, his hand on your side.

“Mhm. Bridal pajamas.” You giggle. He just grins and leans in to kiss you. He pulls away from the kiss only to move to your jaw, and then down your neck. “Matthew, I want to order room service, I’m starved!”

His hands find their way underneath your top, his fingers beginning to creep up your skin.

“Me too. Been planning so much, I’ve hardly had the chance to be with you.. To touch you like this.”

You hum softly, but then your stomach rumbles loudly. So, when He lands on his knees in front of you and pulls you forward so that his head is between your thighs, he takes a second to lean over, searching for the room service menu before handing it to you, as well as the phone.

“What looks good, baby?” He asks, leaning his cheek against your thigh. Your pajama bottoms are shorts, so his warm cheek is a sharp contrast to your skin.

“What are you up to, Murdock?” You ask suspiciously, sitting up to look at the menu.

“Nothing, what kind of desserts do they have on there?”

What a weird, secretive man your future husband is.

“Uh, they have a crème brulee, apple pie, angel cake with chocolate ganache frosting—”

“Oo, can you order me one of those?” he asks, starting to kiss your thighs. Your face flushes.

“Sure, But I’m also gonna order the chocolate covered strawberries and the brownie al a mode—”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He hums, “You just have to order it for me.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but you go to dial the number for room service.

The woman on the other end of the phone is very nice.

As she begins to talk, Matt listens in, but mainly focuses on pulling down your shorts and panties, kissing along your thighs.

Your free hand goes to his hair to try and keep him from eating you out while you order room service, but he is a persistent man.

His lips meet your clit first, and he listens as you gasp, trying to finish the order that he had so kindly requested you to make. His tongue meets your folds, finally satiating the hunger he had for weeks leading up to this.

Your fingers grip his hair, only making him quicken his pace.

“Can I also get uhm—” You can barely think straight. “The uh, Fuck—” Matt’s nose rubs against your clit, his tongue moving at a devastating pace.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” The woman on the other line asks.

“Yeah, Sorry, stubbed my toe on the dresser,” You explain. Matt grins from his place between your thighs. His tongue drags up and down, as if he’s licking every inch of you, like maybe he’ll never be able to taste you again. “The angel cake, can we get two slices of that?” You ask, your fiancé’s pace increasing.

“Yeah, of course. Anything else?”

Matt takes only a moment to stop his assault on your pussy, to add, “The strawberries, baby,” before continuing to lap his tongue against your wet heat.

“The chocolate covered strawberries, and that’s it,” You finish.

“Alright, we have the brownie, the strawberries, and the cake..” She finishes. “What room?”

“Two twenty six,” You tell her. You roll your hips up to try and get more from Matt, but one hand leaves his grip on your thigh to hold your hips down. He knows you’re close, he always knows.

“Oh, are you the bride for tomorrow?” She asks.

This god damn wedding.

“Mhm,” You manage out, biting your lip to try and stop yourself from moaning.

“Congratulations!” She chirps, “Consider the room service complimentary, then,” She gifts.

“Thank you, very much.” You hum.

Matt stops his assault again.

“Ask her how long,” and then he’s back to tasting you, relentlessly.

“How long?” You ask, breathlessly.

“Should only be about ten, fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, thank you,” You say again, your grip on Matt’s hair tightening as you edge closer to your orgasm.

“Of course! Have a very happy wedding day!” And with that, she hangs up, and you toss the phone in the general direction of the machine.

“I’m gonna kill you,” You tell Matt, who stops quickly.

“Do you want to kill me, or do you want me to make you cum?” He asks. He looks really pretty between your thighs.

“Please, Matty..” You give in, and he smirks.

“That’s my good girl.” And he continues to suck your clit, edging you closer and closer. His pace quickens, somehow even more. You let out a soft moan that sounds like absolute heaven to Matt’s ears.

Your thighs are starting to shake because you’re so damn close. Matt keeps his licks consistent, waiting for your release. Your fingers tug on his hair, as you moan, finally hitting your release. He lets you ride out your high, licking all your cum up, making sure to suck up every last drop.

“So sweet and so good for me..” he hums, planting a soft kiss to your clit before pulling away, licking his lips.

“You’re such a dick..” You giggle.

He laughs, kissing your thigh.

“Did so well for me, Sweetheart..” He hums, leaning up to give you a soft kiss. When he pulls away, he slips your shorts back on, and looks like he has a new idea. “Ten to fifteen minutes, huh?”

“Mhm..” You’re just looking at him with such adoration.

“We could probably put that pretty mouth to good use while we wait, right?”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil fic #daredevil #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #smut #marvel smut #daredevil smut

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅶ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: None, lighthearted chapter tbh

✮✮✮

The sound of a marker cap popping open echoes across the walls of Regina’s room. Squeaking could be heard from the other side of the house with how aggressively she was writing.

She ignores her mothers insistent knocking as she pulls out a pair of scissors and cuts the photo of her and Cady in half. Pulling out a glue stick, Regina aggressively sticks the photo in the middle of the page.

She takes a deep breath, calming herself down and sitting back to admire her work. ’This girl is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do not trust her. She is a fugly slut!’ Captioned above a picture of her stuck in the burn book.

Those byotches had no idea what was coming. ✮✮✮

This party was worse than anything she could’ve imagined. Someone broke her mothers vase, Gretchen and Karen wouldn’t leave her alone, and, worst of all, she threw up on Aaron!

“Aaron, wait!” Her heels were digging into the backs of her feet as she chased after her longtime crush, wiping the puke off her mouth.

Aaron angled his body towards Cady, walking backwards and pointing his finger at her, “You are a clone of Regina.”

Cady sighed before perking up, “Call me!”

Aaron ignored her, wiping her vomit off his shirt as he disappeared around the corner.

At the sound of a motor, Cady scrunches her eyebrows, turning towards the source of the mechanical whirring. She curses under her breath as she watches you, Damien, and Janis approach on a motor scooter.

“You dirty little liar.” Janis jumps off of the scooter, stomping towards Cady while you and Damien spin around, unable to stop the scooter.

“I’m sorry! I can explain-”

“Explain how you didn’t invite us to your party?”

You pipe up, “Janis, I’m getting dizzy!”

She glares at you as Cady replies, “I had to act like I hated you! You told me to pretend to be plastic.”

“This,” Janis looks Cady up and down, “Is not pretend. You’re plastic. Cold, hard, shiny plastic.”

Damien warns Janis about his curfew before she continues, “Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters and listen to awesome music and just sit around soaking up each others awesomeness?”

Cady’s face contorts in anger, “You made me like this! All because of some bullshit petty 6th grade drama!”

Janis scoffs, raising her arms up in exasperation, “Oh my god! At least me and Regina George know we’re mean. You still try to act all innocent! You got what you wanted. Aaron broke up with Regina, yet you still mess with her. You know why? Because you’re a mean girl! You’re a bitch!” She throws her artwork at Cady, “You can have this, it won a prize.”

Janis gets back onto the moving scooter, almost falling off when you shake the vehicle getting off. Cady’s eyes widen when she sees you rushing towards her, preparing herself for another scolding when you run past her into the house party. Janis and Damien groan, turning back around and spinning.

Cady’s eyes widen when she catches you walking out with two half full bottles of vodka.

“Alright, let’s go.” You jump back onto Damien's lap, adjusting your hold on the two bottles. Cady runs her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. She starts walking back into her house when she hears Damien's voice,

“I want my pink shirt back!”

✮✮✮

“Wanda literally solos all of…” You trail off when a group of girls rush past you gasping at their phones as you walk through the doors. You and Janis turn to each other in confusion before Damien runs up to both of you and drags you further into school. “Check what I sent you!”

Janis pulls out her phone at Damien’s request, her jaw dropping, “No. Fucking. Way.”

She turns her phone towards you. Squinting your eyes at her screen, you read,

“Damien, too gay to…function?! That's only okay when we say it!” You turn away from her phone, pointing and watching the commotion with your friends. Looking around, you ask,

“Have you guys seen Regina?”

Before either could answer, the sound of the fire alarm and sprinklers going off startles everyone.

“All junior girls report to the gymnasium, immediately! Immediately!”

Damien puts on his hood, before walking alongside you and Janis to the gym. Taking your seats on the bleachers at the back, you open your phone to look through the different pages of the burn book.

“Hah! Check this out: ‘Trang Pak is a grotsky little byotch’. It’s like a foreign language.” Janis and Damien giggle as you continue scrolling, ignoring the pang in your heart when you scroll past your own page, and scrunching your eyebrows in confusion at Regina’s. Didn’t she make this? Speaking of...

You stand up, looking around for her, when you catch Cady walking in awkwardly. She makes eye contact with you, offering you a little smile that you return. As shitty as what she did was, it wasn’t entirely on her. Plus she was about to go through way shittier with the way people kept staring at her.

She turns looks next to you, still smiling, when Janis catches her eye and flips her the bird.

The stare off was interrupted by Principal Duvall starting his speech, going on and on about how he oughta cancel our spring fling. You weren’t really paying attention until the end.

“Who has any lady problems they’d like to share?” You snort when you catch Gretchen pushing Karen's hand down.

Another girl you barely recognize raises her hand, “Somebody wrote in that book that I’m lying about being a virgin because I use super jumbo tampons,”

You, Janis and Damien start hitting each other, holding your noses and trying not to laugh when she continues, “I can’t help it if I’ve got a heavy flow and a wide set vagina.”

Your face was turning red, barely holding it together when Damien snorts. You bark out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth when everyone turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” Principal Duvall sighs and urges Ms. Norbury to continue for him.

“Alright, everybody close your eyes,” She pauses, “Raise your hand if you’ve ever had a girl say something mean about you behind your back. Now open your eyes.”

You look around the room, everybody had their hands raised. She continues, “Close your eyes again. Raise your hand if you’ve ever said anything mean about a friend behind their back,”

You peek an eye open, raising your hand when you see everyone else's hands raised. You catch Regina doing the same. There she is. “Now open.”

You, Janis and Damien all collectively gasp when you see each other's hands raised.

“Seems like there’s been a little girl-on-girl crime here, let’s do a couple exercises...” Ms. Norbury had all of you confront your friends on what bothered you.

After a couple of confrontations and arguments, Regina stands up with her arms crossed, “Can I just say that I don’t think we have a clique problem at this school. Some of us don’t need to be here! We’re just victims.”

Ms. Norbury smiles, “That's probably true. How many of you have felt personally victimized by Regina George?” You slide down your chair, groaning in second-hand embarrassment when everybody raises their hands.

Janis rolls her eyes and pulls you back up to sit properly.

“Cady, is there anything you’d like to own up to?” Ms. Norbury calls out.

“No.” Cady replies

“You never made up a rumor about anyone?”

Cady looks around, shuffling in her seat, “No.”

“Nothing you want to apologize for?”

“...No.”

Ms. Norbury says something to Cady that you couldn’t catch before moving on. “Alright. Everybody up.”

She made us gather around a little platform, letting whoever wanted to go up and apologize for whoever they’ve hurt. It was absolutely horrible trying to hold in your laugh as the apologies began, especially when Karen fell forward into the trust fall instead of backwards. Someone you don’t recognize goes up, crying and apologizing.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Damien shouts before pushing you in front of him and pulling the strings of his hoodie. You stand on your tiptoes, attempting to conceal him as Janis moves closer to you. "I can't see shit from here," You mumble, trying to look between the girls stood in front of you.

Wanting to get a better view, you decide to move towards the front of the crowd. You pushed yourself between the girls, ignoring the curses thrown your way. Karen noticed you walking towards her and Gretchen and moved to the side as Gretchen went up, making space for you. Your smile dropped as Gretchen began her speech.

Oh wow. Gretchen was horrible at apologies.

Gretchen turns and falls backwards. Entranced by the train wreck that was Gretchen's half-assed apology, you hadn’t noticed people scattering away from you and Karen. Ms. Norbury gasps.

You all fall to the ground, Gretchen and Karen landing on top of you. Karen gets up after Gretchen, helping you up after her and adjusting your disheveled hair. You raise your eyebrows as she begins squeezing your cheeks with a far away look in her eyes before Gretchen starts pulling her arm. Snapping out of whatever trance she was in, she lets Gretchen drag her away, offering you a smile and a wave goodbye,

They could never make you hate her.

Janis pats your shoulder as she walks past you and up onto the platform, beginning her speech. Your eyes widen as she begins to list everything she’d done to sabotage Regina.

“Ay ay ay ay ay!” She ends her speech and jumps into the crowd as they all cheered her on. You were about to join when a teary eyed Regina pushed past you.

"Regina!" You and Cady called at the same time. You looked at each other for a moment before running towards Regina.

Cady keeps walking as you stop at the edge of the street, leaving them to hash it out when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A breathless Janis was standing next to you. You pat her back, “Nice speech, you should join Model UN.” Janis shakes her head in disgust, making you laugh until you notice a school bus speeding towards Regina.

"No!" Janis attempts to pull you back as you rush forward, jumping towards Regina and pushing her out of the way.

You both land on the harsh asphalt, groaning.

“God! Who drives that fucking fast in a school zone?!” You had your hand on your chest, trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline. “At least no one got hurt,”

Sitting up and looking around, you notice everyone’s eyes on you, “What? Why is everyone looking at me?”

Regina’s scream startles you. “Oh my God!” She says while standing up and pointing at your leg. You raise an eyebrow, turning to where she was pointing.

Oh god.

“Is the bone supposed to stick out like that?” You attempt to joke, before promptly blacking out. The last thing you see being Cady, Regina, and Janis all running towards you.

✮✮✮

Long-ish A/N: I used the gymnasium scene from the original mean girls, its lowkey funnier. I know this chapter has a criminal lack of Regina, but I promise I'll make up for it next chapter. I just needed to move the story along.

I made a little sketch of how I imagine R, but I made her vague in the fic on purpose! You get to imagine her however you want. This is just how I imagine her.

Will I acknowledge the fact that she looks like me? nope. Will I acknowledge the fact that I left out an eye? yolo.

Anyways, thank you for reading!

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa (if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter reply under this post!)

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons #x reader

[farfromstrange]

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #weed cookies

[fulmis]

For as long as you'd let me (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You’ve worked in Nelson, Murdock, & Page for over a year as a paralegal. Despite being aware of his feelings for you Matt has never acted out on them, believing you deserve more to be happy. However, that soon changes when you start dating someone else.

Warnings: no use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, angst with a happy ending, feelings of jealousy, mentions of crying, and mentions of blood/injuries (canon typical ones)

Notes: This is the first time I write Matt, and overall the first time I write a one-shot. It’s not proofread either, so please let me know of any mistakes (which I apologize for in advance). Also, this is vaguely inspired by Taylor Swift’s “The Way I Loved You”.

It started as a simple paralegal job. With Karen dividing her time between The Bulletin and Nelson, Murdock & Page, she reached out to you, and you quickly became a member of the group.

Mornings, afternoons, and late nights were spent working on cases. Plus your weekly visits to Josie’s meant that there wasn’t much time you spent without Karen, Foggy, and Matt. You couldn’t complain, you loved your job. Although what made it so much better was how the small group started to feel like your family.

That was why you had never bothered to pursue your small crush on Matt. Romance in the workplace was bound to ruin things. You didn't want to compromise everything you had achieved in the past few months. Yet every time you were alone with Matt your heart was unable to contain itself.

“I’m just saying, maybe he feels the same way you do.”

“I don’t know Karen…”, you let out a low chuckle to try to hide your embarrassment.

“I’m serious… I know he can be hard to read sometimes, but every time you’re around he seems… happy.” She gave you a hopeful smile, and you thought back to every single time you’d been around him. The feather-light brushes of his hand against yours as he reaches for the braille documents when you’re doing late-night research. Or maybe how he always offers to walk you home as you head out of Josie’s, his hold on your arm becoming arms intertwined as you grew more comfortable with each other.

It just never went past that. The familiar closeness never moved beyond flirty; it had just enough innocence to regard it as nothing more than friendly. Little did you know your crush wasn’t as unrequited as you thought.

Matt often thought about you. It started with the small things like how you’d hum quietly on your desk. The song coming from your lips was one he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He’d try to figure out the song every now and then, but it didn’t really matter because he just loved listening to your voice. Sometimes he realized he was humming it back as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop during patrol, your voice engraved on his mind.

On other days he would listen to you talking to yourself as you made coffee while pacing through the kitchenette. It brought warmth to his heart. You always brought him a fresh cup of coffee as soon as it finished brewing. The gesture never failed to bring a smile to his face, especially after you started bringing your own coffee to the office. The scent was rich and nutty, nothing compared to the cheap dirt Foggy used to steal from the financial office next door when they started the firm.

Matt couldn’t help it either every time you spent the night helping him work on a case, even long after Karen and Foggy wrapped up the day and headed home. He admired your resilience, and how determined you were to read things over and over just to find the smallest of details that could help them turn the case over.

He just didn’t know what to do.

This was an unfamiliar situation. Flirting wasn't new to him, but becoming nervous around someone, overthinking his every move? That was a whole thing on its own. Those signs pointed to serious feelings, not the casual flings he was used to. In the past, every now and then a one-night stand might happen, but he’d always tell Foggy the same at the end.

It didn’t work out.

After the whole Elektra ordeal, nobody ever stuck around for long, and he knew the reason why. The Devil inside of him always made him half a man, bound to split his time between the law and keeping Hell’s Kitchen safe. Even if you actually wanted him as Matt Murdock, there was no way you would love the darkness inside his heart.

Because nobody could genuinely love every part of him. He was a broken pile of glass, the pieces bloodied and ready to cut through the hands of anyone who chose to hold them. If his feelings were to be reciprocated he knew he would break your heart eventually, and you deserved so much more than pathetic excuses or missed dates.

She’ll leave you. She deserves better, and the minute she finds out she’ll be gone.

With every minute spent in your presence, the thought was only reaffirmed. There was an ever-constant tug of war between his heart and his fears, the latter always seemed to pull harder. Which is why he never got the courage to ask; because let’s be honest, who could ever want someone that was nothing more than a liability?

Months went by, and you lost all hope. Not even Foggy or Karen could get Matt to act out on his feelings, and you assumed he really only thought of you as a friend.

When you found yourselves at Josie’s on a random Friday, the night started just like any other, until you went to get the next round of drinks at the bar. A familiar voice called out your name. Your eyes landed on an old friend from college, and you yelped as he lifted you up and spun you around in the air.

Matt’s breath hitched in his chest, the blood ringing in his ears. You walked over together to the booth and he swore he had to fight the urge to puke when you introduced your friend to the group. After you sat down, his hand was on your knee as you recalled memories from college. Foggy and Karen couldn't help but exchange awkward looks. A feeling of rage and disgust boiled inside Matt’s chest while the tension crept around his shoulders. Yet the worst part came when he heard your genuine laugh, your skin growing flushed and your body relaxed.

Matt realized then that’s how it should be: easy. The days that followed only rubbed it further on his face. Your friend had accepted a job in the city, and he wasted no time asking you to catch up. The next Monday, you didn’t stay with Matt at the office as you usually did most nights. A different perfume was on your skin, a sweeter kind. The smell of carmine on your lips was unusual too. Worst of all, he couldn’t help but overhear you talking with Karen as you walked through the hall outside the office.

“You’re going on a date?”

“It’s not really a date, we’re just having dinner”

“That lipstick sure screams date,” Karen’s laugh was quickly joined by yours.

“I promise you it’s not, we just haven’t seen each other in a while…”

The bouquet of peonies that was delivered the next day seemed to say otherwise. The soft citrusy sweetness reached Matt as soon as the delivery man entered the building. Foggy’s voice resounded on the walls as he walked to the door. “Whoa… That is definitely something…”

Karen joined in a nanosecond, her eyes wide in mock surprise as she gasped “Are you sure it wasn’t a date?”

You quickly brushed them off, but Matt felt the temperature of your cheeks rise. He wanted to be upset really upset, but all he felt was sadness. The truth was that if he had his way, he would want you to have everything in the world, even if it meant that someone else gave it to you. His feelings could remain buried forever, so they could pave way for your happiness to bloom.

“Man, you sure you’re okay? You seem down lately…”

“Don’t worry about it, Foggy.”

Matt kept his distance from then on. Why be petty when you had finally found the man of your dreams? He couldn’t offer you that stability anyways. Romantic getaways upstate, fancy dinners uptown, long walks, and picnics on Central Park, he heard it all as you dished to Karen; a true fairytale.

Which is why he didn’t expect to find you crying in the office on a Saturday night. He had gone to retrieve some files, but after a pretty tough night of patrol on Friday he had preferred to wait until the next night. The only sound coming from the room was from a single light bulb and your quiet sobs.

He opened the door slowly and listened to the rushed sound of you quickly wiping your tears. “Hi, sorry, I didn’t think you would come in today…” you said to play it off. The taste of salt in the air made his heart ache, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… it’s no big deal…” your voice came out broken and defeated, despite your best attempts to even it. Your eyes found Matt’s face, and you rushed to his side the moment you saw his split lip and the butterfly bandages on his eyebrow. “My God, Matt, what happened to you?” Your hands were soon to find his cheek and he did his best not to jump against your touch.

“I asked you first...”

When you didn’t reply he chose to continue, “I fell while taking out the trash, but... why were you crying?”

Your hand left his face and fell to your side in defeat. After a deep breath you gathered the courage to speak up, “It didn’t work out… um we, we broke up… I just… I couldn’t do it anymore…”

Matt felt speechless, his mind tried to find words to comfort you, but it was interrupted when he heard you sob again. “I really tried Matt,” your hands found your face; your best attempt to comfort yourself was a failure when the tears piled in your eyes. Matt’s heart broke in pieces hearing you like this. He lifted his arms to hold you; however, they were unable to reach their destination when he froze to your next words. “I really tried, Matt... but he wasn’t you”

The sentence hit Matt like a punch to the face. Between your sobs, the words felt like a fever dream. He couldn’t hold you fast enough, and as soon as his arms touched you, you sank into his chest. Your heartbeat was fast against his, and he felt he couldn't hold you tightly enough. Matt did his best to stifle his own emotions, despite the tears forming in his eyes, “Oh, sweetheart…”

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t… shouldn't dump this all on you… I wanted to believe I could bury everything I felt for you... I... I know you don’t feel the same way, but… I just… I’m sorry…”

That’s what finally tipped him. In all his years Matt had never felt this stupid before. In his best attempt to spare your feelings he had you crying here in his arms. He only let go of you to take your face in his hands, his lips hesitant but powerless against the weight on his chest. They pressed softly against yours and quickly pulled back an inch in case that wasn’t what you wanted, but you gently returned the gesture.

With your face in his hands, he proceeded to kiss the tears on your cheeks, “I should be the one to apologize. I thought I was doing you a favor denying my feelings, but I’ve wished for nothing more than to be by your side… for as long as you’d let me…”

A smile broke from your lips as you reached once again to kiss him, slow and soft while the last hitched breaths left your lungs. His lips were warm against yours, and the faintest taste of copper rolled through your tongue from the cut on Matt’s bottom lip.

Matt knew right then and there that it didn’t matter if he never felt he deserved you, he would never go back to being without you. The Devil could be dealt with later, as long as it meant he could have you in arms. He promised himself he’d spend every single day to come owning it up to you if it meant he could have your heart in exchange.

_______________________________

Thank you so much for reading, all feedback is widely appreciated! (:

#matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction

[peterman-spideyparker]

Sweet Caroline (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Work has been super busy lately, but I got ahead of schedule this week and I listen to music at work and everything kind of fell together and I wrote this. It's not the best I mean TBH it's probably very crappy, I know that, but it's cute and sweet. I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary: The rivalry between Boston and New York is deep-seated and long-standing, but you're proud of where you come from—just smart enough to not announce it from the rooftops in Hell's Kitchen, or to your friends. Turns out, no matter what—through years of friendship, marriage, and everything that follows—there will always be the rivalry to some degree.

Suggested Listening: Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond

Warnings: Fluff, Boston vs. NYC rivalry, not proof read at all, really

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

Word Count: 1,046

Moving from Boston to New York City is a cardinal sin. It doesn’t matter that it was for law school: “You couldn’t get in to Harvard? Suffolk?” “Oh, too good for Boston, now, are ya?” The kind of comments go one and on, especially once you made the decision to stay, having met your two best friends and deciding to open up a law firm with them. You can just imagine the similar sort of comments you'd get in Manhattan if people heard that you're from Boston. Therefore, you keep that part of your background on a strictly need-to-know basis, only free to wear your Boston attire and drink your Dunks in the comfort of your own apartment. The first nice spring day in the city means that your Bostonian nature is out in full force in your home—some windows cracked, a pot of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee brewing, and your favorite hand-me-down Red Sox t-shirt you’ve had for years comfortably situated onto your body.

Your freeze when you register a knock on the door.

“Knock, knock!” you hear Foggy call through the old wood. “We’ve got pizza and case files!”

“Just a second!” you call, putting down your mug of coffee and making your way over to let them in.

“Traitor!” Foggy shouts almost immediately.

“What?” Matt asks, his face scrunched in utter confusion. 

“Oh, Fog, c’mon,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I am being no such thing!” Foggy defends. “This is a proportionate reaction for the situation!”

“I think you’re both forgetting that one party in attendance is blind,” Matt chimes. “Can someone please fill in the details?”

“(Y/N)—if that’s even her real name—is wearing a Boston Red Sox shirt.”

“I will not accept Bostonian slander in my apartment, so if you boys—.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Matt rushes, putting a hand on your closing door. “You’re from Boston?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you never mention it?”

“Never came up.”

“Lie,” Foggy interjects. “The day we met, we asked where you were from.”

“You said the city,” Matt adds. “We understood that as New York City.”

“That was a misinterpretation on your part. Boston is a city, and I did grow up there,” you clarify. “Hence, I’m from the city. You are at fault for not inquiring further.”

“It feels like I don’t even know you,” Foggy sighs.

“Okay, goodbye, drama kings,” you say, trying to close the door once more, only for both of your friends to slip in.

“Seriously, why’d you never just tell us?” Matt asks.

“You act like I told you I had a secret family or I was Daredevil or something!” Foggy has to help steady Matt—Matt's clumsiness is starting to get more concerning. “I didn’t tell you because I knew how you’d react as through and through New Yorkers. I’ve heard everything in the book about Boston while I’ve been here. I didn’t want to hear it from my friends, too.”

“(Y/N),” Matt says, the tips of his ears bright pink. “We don’t mean it like that.”

“Then how do you mean it? How else and I supposed to take it?”

“You blend so will with New York,” Foggy says.

“Now I’m insulted.”

“No—it’s just that you’re a natural, really. That’s why we’re shocked. That, and you don’t speak like—.”

“—like I want to park the car in Harvard Yard?” you question with an exaggerated accent, making them both laugh, albeit nervously.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” You pick up your mug of coffee from the counter, taking a sip. “What case files did you bring?”

“Sweetheart, she smells so good,” Matt hums in delight as you both rest with your newborn in the hospital room.

“I know, Matty,” you smile. "Or are you forgetting that pregnancy made me have super senses, too?”

“Yeah, but that’s nature at work.”

“Mm,” you hum, taking another sniff of her head. “She smells so new.”

“Is it weird we’re this enamored with sniffing our newborn?”

“No. We made her. We have the right to sniff.”

As you continue to fawn over your daughter, you hear a gentle knock on the door. You notice Foggy and Karen peeking their heads through the crevice, gifts and balloons in hand. 

“Is now a good time?” Karen asks.

“Well, you are interrupting our baby-sniffing time, but I guess an exception can be made  for you two,” you say.

“I’m gonna ignore the baby-sniffing comment because I’m too excited to meet my niece,” Foggy beams as they enter the room and get closer. “Oh, wow. That’s a cute baby. I mean, of course she is, look at the gene pool she got to swim in.”

“She’s precious,” Karen whispers in awe. “Great job, guys. More so to you, (Y/N).”

“Thanks,” you breathe, resting your head against Matt’s.

“Does she have a name yet? Or is she still Baby Girl Murdock for now?”

“Well, Matt had a suggestion,” you start.

“Caroline,” he finishes, smiling sweetly at your daughter.

“Aww. Caroline Murdock. It’s so pretty,” Karen hums. “She looks like a Caroline.”

“Caroline?” Foggy asks. “Like . . . Sweet Caroline?”

“Foggy, how long has it been since you found out that I’m from Boston and you’re still on this?” you chuckle. 

“No, it’s not that! It’s nice. It’s a real show of love for a New Yorker to name their kid after the anthem of the enemy city.”

You look down at your daughter, the picture of relaxation as she rests in your arms.

“Sweet Caroline, bum, bum bum,” you begin to sing. “Good times never seemed so good—.”

“So good! So good! So good!” Matt adds on.

“Traitor,” Foggy smirks.

“You’re gonna be my little cute Boston fan, aren’t you?” you say softly.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Matt tries. 

“You don’t even like sports!”

“It’s the principle of the thing! And you don’t like sports, either.”

“It’s the principe of the thing,” you mock.

“Yeah, but I love her.”

“I do, too.”

“So, Caroline? Is it official?” Karen asks.

“How about Caroline Josie Murdock?” you offer. “She does need a middle name, after all.”

“It’s perfect,” Matt hums, kissing your temple.

“A perfect marriage of Boston and New York,” Foggy smiles. “Just like her parents.”

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[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 8

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

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Liam: Only a selected few know that I’m a member of Crown.

(This means that—)

Liam: The article says that… “stage actor Liam killed someone”.

William: Good guess.

Harrison: Liam. This news article…

Harrison: It says that you killed the Evans— every last one of them.

(He killed… his entire family?)

Kate: Can I look at the article?

I could hear my heart thumping like a jackhammer in my chest as I read the headline on the newspaper’s front page.

The Evans family was a major confectionery production company that gained immense wealth and influence in just one generation. And one day, a fire broke out.

That sensational news made the headlines. It was reported that their entire mansion burned down, causing several deaths.

The casualties were — Liam's father, Max, Liam's mother, Karen, and their butler, Jacob.

The sole survivor was their only son, Liam, who was 9 years old at that time.

Back then, the police department concluded that the accident was a "malpractice of the fireplace", and the case was closed—

Kate: "... But there was soon evidence that the fire was started by Liam, who was 9 years old."

Kate: "Is The Scala's brightest star a murderous monster, or—" ...

Kate: ... What's the point of publishing this article now?

Harrison: Someone sold information on Liam's past. The newspaper publisher bought it because they found it interesting, and wrote an article. It's nothing new.

(That means…)

Kate: Someone deliberately went through all the trouble of digging up his past and selling it to the publisher…?

Kate: Who on earth would…

Elbert: Liam lives in a world of high-profile actors.

Elbert: … There are plenty of people who harbour feelings of resentment, envy, and jealousy towards him.

William: Liam.

Liam: Yes, Will?

William: How true is this article?

Liam: Unfortunately…

Liam: It's completely true.

(— What.)

I was rendered speechless, whereas William’s usual elegant smile didn't falter.

William: I see. However, according to this article, there is no evidence to back up their claims.

William: As long as there is no evidence, the police will not make any moves. Moreover, this is an old case — it is long overdue.

William: All you can do for now is to live with people looking at you with a prejudiced eye for a while.

Liam: … I know. However, the performance for “Wuthering Heights” is just around the corner, so that’s a problem.

Liam: I think it's best if I resign from my job as a stage actor before the matter gets out of hand. I’ll speak to everyone at The Scala about this.

The sounds of Liam’s footsteps as he left the dining room brought my mind back from its dazed state.

(Liam…)

Harrison: Um, Kate. Over there.

(...?)

Harrison’s mint coloured eyes were fixated on a ticket and a modern rose on the table.

Harrison: He intended to give them to you. He was hiding them behind his back.

Kate: …

(My mind is still in a mess. But…)

Kate: I- I’m going to go after Liam.

…

(... There he is!)

Kate: Liam, wait!

Liam’s rose coloured eyes widened when I ran up to him just as he was about to walk out the front door.

Liam: Kate…

Liam: Ah—... sorry if that startled you. You want to know more about my case, right?

Kate: Yes… and no.

Liam: …?

Kate: I was bewildered to hear that the incident was true, even more so when I heard it from your mouth.

Kate: … That's not a lie. But I’m also not trying to pry into your past.

Kate: … Because if I do that, I’ll be no different from the people involved in publishing that article.

I was almost breathless because I wanted to tell him everything at one go.

Kate: … Moreover, this isn't the right time for me to ask, right?

Liam: So… that's not your purpose right now? Then, why did you run after me?

Kate: The truth is…

Kate: You don't want to resign from your job, do you…?

Liam: Huh…?

He was so happy when he told me he got the lead role, and worked so hard to rehearse for it.

(I know that because I’ve been watching him from the sidelines. Therefore, I don’t want him to give up and let go of this opportunity because of something so cruel.)

I learnt from him that in order to perform on stage for just one night, a stage actor has to put in a tremendous amount of effort.

Liam: But my presence will only be a nuisance to them. There will definitely be people in the audience who are only there to humiliate me.

Liam: As much as I’m serious about this production, I shouldn't go this far. I don't want to cause problems for others—

Kate: Liam. I want to know what you’re feeling right now.

Liam: …

Kate: … What do you really want, Liam?

Liam: Me?

Kate: … Yes.

Liam: I…

Liam: I… uh…

His rose coloured eyes shook with a troubled expression.

Liam frowned in agony, he looked like he was fighting something he couldn't speak of.

(...Liam?)

(Why do you look so pained?)

(... I shouldn't have asked that question.)

The uncomfortable look in his eyes that I had failed to notice became more distinct, and I recalled what I heard at the tavern.

— Liam had never been able to figure out what he wanted for himself.

When I first heard those words, I got the feeling that he didn't have his own desires, but I dismissed that as myself overthinking.

Even at this moment, I still feel like I’m overthinking.

(Liam, please… say something.)

(I’ll take any answer, so just tell me what you feel—)

Liam: …

Liam: What do you think, Kate?

Kate: … Grgh.

Liam: Kate?

An uneasy emotion fell over my eyes.

(The man standing in front of me and smiling right now... who is he?)

Liam: Kate... did I say something strange?

I was so afraid that if I didn't do something, Liam would turn into a complete stranger.

I reached my hand out to touch his cheek, as if to make sure that it was really him standing there.

Liam: ... Hm?

William: Did you successfully hold him back, Kate?

Kate: ... William.

William spoke with his melodious voice as he approached us with light steps.

William: Liam. Resigning from your stage actor job won't change anything for the better.

William: Stage actors cannot be replaced easily. You have to perform.

William: — You will continue to perform on stage. Crown will take care of finding the culprit.

Liam • Kate: Huh...?

William: Those fools who sold the information to the newspaper publisher will never learn their lesson, and they'll try other ways to bring you down.

Liam: But unless it's Her Majesty's orders, it won't do Crown any good... Will.

William: If those people continue to dig up more information about you, the secret existence of Crown will eventually be revealed.

William: And leaving my tortured pet cat alone isn't one of my hobbies.

William: Are those reasons enough for you?

Liam: ... Thank you. And for troubling you... I'm sorry. You too, Kate.

William fixed his gaze onto me, as if telling me "it'll be wise for you to stay by Liam's side".

Kate: It's alright. Can I follow you into The Scala...?

…

When we got to The Scala, the members of the theatre troupe were already gathered and it seemed that they all read the article from The Shadow.

In the stiff atmosphere, Liam bowed his head.

Liam: For causing all of you trouble at this time… I’m very sorry.

Tom: … A real nuisance indeed.

Liam: … Ggh.

Tom: — Did you think I’d say that?

Liam: Huh…?

Tom: You thought such an article could sway us? If so, you're underestimating us.

Tom: I should be hugging and kissing you to thank you for causing the theatre to gain publicity. Right, everyone?

Everyone in the theatre troupe nodded in agreement to Tom’s words.

Liam: Tom… you guys…

Tom: You’re as irreplaceable as the rest of us, Liam. Although that was a pretty dark story…

Tom: Tomorrow is the first day of the play! We’ll rehearse all night today. Come on, get into your positions.

Theatre Members • Liam: Okay…

(... Everyone is smiling. I’m glad Liam didn't get removed from his role.)

The lively atmosphere gave me a sense of relief.

However, that was only momentary—

== Flashback Start ==

(Liam, please… say something.)

(I’ll take any answer, so just tell me what you feel—)

Liam: What do you think, Kate?

== Flashback End ==

(What would've happened if I told Liam to “just resign from your job”...?)

I don't think it's possible, but Liam would've said something like—

“Mm, okay. I’ll do it since you said so.”

And smile with his usual carefree facial expression.

To leave everything up to the wishes of others — that's not an easy thing to do.

That's because people have their own volitions, ego, and desires. Those are what make them who they are.

Liam, who was rehearsing in the distance, looked no different from his usual self.

However—

(Liam’s heart felt so far away from me.)

Just like Tom declared, the rehearsal carried on through the night, and it was midnight by the time we left.

Theatre Member: I am famished! Let's go have a meal before heading home. Okay, Kate?

Kate: Fufu, are there any shops open at this hour?

Tom: … Hey.

Tom: … What’s that?

Kate • Liam: …?

Tom was staring at The Scala’s wall.

Posters that had never been seen before, were plastered all over the wall.

Written on the posters was—

“— Don’t let a murderer stand on stage.”

Kate: That's…

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story

[themculibrary]

Matt Murdock/Karen Page (Karedevil) Masterlist

5 Times Karen Gave Matt His Drink Back and the 1 Time She Didn’t (ao3) - randomfandommusings6 T, 8k

Summary: Exactly what the title says: a 5+1 Karedevil fic.

A New Year's Eve to Remember (ao3) - josiesbar T, 3k

Summary: Foggy convinces Karen and Matt to come to the Nelson New Year's Eve Party.

Bated Breath (ao3) - karedeviltrash M, 46k

Summary: A step forward is suddenly interrupted by an unfortunate event.

Breakable Heaven (ao3) - irelandhoneybee T, 3k

Summary: Matt has been so busy he hasn't realized he's been neglecting Karen, who never expected to be discussing her sexual frustrations with Foggy, who will more than likely need a stiff drink after dealing with these idiots.

By your side (ao3) - Stephics T, 4k

Summary: Karen needs to travel urgently to her hometown (Vermont). Foggy is unable to accompany her, so she has to go with Matt as her last resort. How will things turn out?

Carry Your Heart (ao3) - irelandhoneybee T, 12k

Summary: Foggy and Marci are getting married. Matt and Karen are both members of the wedding party and find themselves growing closer and closer

Checkmate (ao3) - LilyEllison M, 27k

Summary: Investigative reporter Karen Page is annoyed when she’s assigned a fluff piece about a new company that claims to do DNA matchmaking. She thinks the technology sounds like bullshit, and she plans an exposé so customers won’t get scammed. All she has to do is prove some guy named Matt Murdock isn’t her soulmate. Easy, right?

coulda, shoulda, woulda (ao3) - LilyEllison T, 5k

Summary: Prompt from LadyMaigrey: "Matt asking Karen out for the first date post-S3. It could have gone like this / It should have gone like this / But it actually happened like this."

Deep into the Abyss (ao3) - LittleDidTheyKnow E, 35k

Summary: Matt Murdock tries to put his life back together after the series of poor decisions he made during the Punisher trial and his conflict with the Hand. Just when he thinks he's repaired what's been broken, his worst fear is realized.

He finds himself back on the road to self-sabotage and must decide if he can live with the pain he's experienced and find a way to move on, or spiral into a life of solitude.

deja vu (ao3) - LilyEllison M, 11k

Summary: When the fledgling Devil of Hell’s Kitchen meets a local bookshop owner, sparks fly. But what happens when you fall for someone while wearing a mask?

AU. Roughly corresponds to just before Season 1 in show time (for Matt, at least). Written for the Daredevil Exchange 2022 New Year Fanweek, Day 1: The City.

Don’t go where I can’t find you (ao3) - Persehfone G, 800

Summary: Karen didn’t know how many blocks she ran in the rain, but by the time she reached Matt’s apartment she was soaked wet and out of breath

New Beginnings (ao3) - josiesbar T, 13k

Summary: This takes place shortly after season 3. Nelson, Murdock, and Page begin their new law firm. Karen struggles with her feelings for Matt and guilt over past events.

No One in the Streets (ao3) - Meinhiding G, 1k

Summary: Matt and Karen's life during NYC's lockdown.

Objections (ao3) - LilyEllison T, 7k

Summary: Now that they’ve got Nelson, Murdock and Page up and running, Karen is determined to just be friends with Matt. That's the responsible, grown-up business owner thing to do. But if everyone could please stop hitting on him right in front of her, that would be great. (Not that she cares, of course. It’s just ... well, maybe she cares.)

Plus One (ao3) - Meinhiding G, 6k

Summary: Foggy helps Matt reading him his emails. He takes the opportunity to develop a plan to make Karedevil happen.

Starting Over (ao3) - josiesbar T, 10k

Summary: Karen has been trying to deal with all the loss in her life and keep Fisk from getting out of prison, but everything changes when she finds out Matt is alive.

The Closing Curtain (ao3) - Meinhiding E, 3k

Summary: Karen and Matt keep dreaming about being together but they do nothing about it. Foggy is getting tired of their show and gives them a boost.

The Thanksgiving Set-Up (ao3) - Eva_Swan T, 5k

Summary: Foggy, Marci and Maggie had a brilliant idea. Matt and Karen were too stubborn to admit their feelings to each other, so they would set them up with other people... to bring them together. This Thanksgiving would be the best. (Post season 3)

we'll have the same dream (ao3) - clarineta T, 4k

Summary: "And it was nice outside, a nice winter evening, and when he suggested a walk instead of a cab, she didn’t say no. He held his hand against the small of her back as they got out into the street, always finding little ways to touch her, hold her arm, touch her shoulder. She would never complain."

Karen and Matt take a long late night Christmas walk.

"You could come up, if you'd like..." (ao3) - Pikkulef M, 7k

Summary: Litterally, what would have happened if Matt had not been a damn coward and had trusted Karen.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #matt murdock #karen page #karedevil #karedevil masterlist #masterlists #f/m

[shiorimakibawrites]

Nelson & Murdock (Part 8 of Alley Cat)

Image credits: kissthemgoodbye.net / Amber Kipp / Nathan Dumlao

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3257

Summary:  Reader meets two very good lawyers. And has an epiphany.

Can also be read here

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Awkward flirting. Pining. Legal stuff written by a non-lawyer, Mentions of ableism.

Nelson & Murdock

by Shiori_Makiba

You arrived at the small office building a couple of minutes before your appointment. It was an older building but not rundown. And judging by the signs you could see by the doors as you headed for the stairs, home to a number of small businesses.

As you reached the second floor, the door at the end of the hallway opened. Out stepped a handsome man with brown hair dressed in a black suit wearing sunglasses and holding a long white cane in one hand. He was average height with broad shoulders, muscular without being bulky and you were certain you had seen somewhere before.

But you hadn't. Surely you would remember meeting someone so handsome. That wasn't the kind of face you forgot. It's the kind of face that you fantasize about. Imagine yourself running your fingers through that fluffy-looking hair and feeling the roughness of that five o'clock shadow. Imagine those red, pouty lips pressing against yours . . . wait a minute!

You stood there in stunned disbelief. Could that really be him? Could those be the same petal soft lips that pressed against your cheek a few days ago? The same cheek that tingled from the memory. Or did this man walking toward you, his cane tapping back and forth in front of him, just happened to resemble what little you could see of Daredevil's face?

He stopped a little bit front of you, his head tilting in an equally familiar manner.

“Ma'am? Can I help you?” he asked. Your first thought was that he didn't sound like Daredevil. The Devil's voice was deeper, rougher with that gravely, growling rasp . . . but then you remembered how he had sounded when he promised not to go too far in that alley or when forgot himself while flirting or talking to you . . . a little higher but still deep, gentle and soft-spoken. Just like this man in front of you.

You couldn't believe what you were considering. This man was blind . . .

“Ma'am?” he repeated. “Do you need help?”

“N-no, I'm good,” you said. Then realized that you were blocking the walking path standing there gaping like an idiot.

“Sorry,” you said, feeling yourself flush as you moved to one side of the hallway so he had room to pass. “Didn't mean to get in your way.”

“It's fine,” he said with a smile as he continued on his way. It was (probably) inappropriate but you couldn't stop yourself from checking out his ass as he walked away. The trousers of his suit wasn't nearly as form-fitting as the Daredevil suit but still well-fitted enough for you to tell that this man also had one fine ass.

You shook your head. Blind ninja vigilante sounded like something out of a comic book. Even this crazy world with people like the Avengers, that still sounded ridiculous.

Then it got weirder. Because the door the man had come out of it? It was the office of Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law according to the metal sign with raised lettering. While it also proudly declared it was the home of Page Investigations, you were pretty sure that wasn't Karen Page.

Assuming Karen Page was the Karen you spoke with on the phone. It was possible that they had hired a receptionist who just happened to almost be named Karen. It was a popular name. Weirder things, especially in this city, had happened.

Not nearly as crazy as contemplating if a blind man was a ninja vigilante.

You opened the door and entered the office. Sitting at the front desk was a pretty woman with shoulder length blonde hair in a dark blue suit who looked up at your entrance and smiled.

“Hello, I'm Karen Page. How can I help you?”

You introduced yourself and said you had an appointment for an initial consultation. Karen nodded and did something on her computer. She then stood up – she was tall and slim without being skinny – and gestured toward the row of mismatched chairs lining the wall. “Please have a seat while I get things set up. Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee,” you said as you sat down in one of the chairs. For all that it didn't match the other chairs and was clearly secondhand, it was comfortable. While Karen poured your coffee, you took the opportunity to observe. The rest of the furniture in the public space was just as of a hodgepodge as the waiting chairs. All of the visible electronics – computer, multi-line phone, printers – were older models. No clutter and nothing left where it could create a tripping hazard. It also said louder than any words that this was a no-frills operation.

“Cream? Sugar? Cookie?” Karen asked.

“Cookie?” You repeated as you looked over at Karen. She was standing beside a small table, half-turned toward you. Behind her, on the top, you could see two coffee pots – one with freshly brewed coffee, one with water. The water one had something wrapped around the handle of the carafe. Presumably so the blind partner could tell difference between the otherwise identical coffee pots. You presumed that was the same reason that the little baskets containing what looked like little cups of creamer and packets of sugar were entirely different shapes.

And in Karen's hands was a familiar looking Tupperware container about half full of cookies.

“Yes, cookie,” Karen said, holding up the container. “Mr. Murdock got these from a friend but felt like he couldn't eat so many cookies all by himself. Do you want one? They're really good.”

“Sure,” you said before giving Karen your cream and sugar preferences. A few moments later, she handed you your coffee in a plain blue mug and a cookie in a napkin. You weren't entirely surprised to see that cookie was chocolate clip.

It was a good thing that Karen had her back to you when you bit into the cookie. Because this tasted exactly like your cookies. The ones you had given to Daredevil. As you chewed, you thought furiously.

There were three possibilities.

The first was that all of this was coincidence. Daredevil wasn't the only drop dead gorgeous man in this city. No reason that Murdock couldn't be one of those aforementioned very handsome men. Other people liked to use organic and otherwise unprocessed ingredients for their baked goods. It was implausible, not impossible, that one of those other people just happened to be friends with Murdock and randomly choose to make him chocolate chip cookies at the same time you baked chocolate chips cookies for Daredevil. That Tupperware container was a common item – there were probably thousands of identical copies of it on Manhattan alone.

Still that was a lot of coincidence. Too much coincidence for your taste. It stretched credulity to its breaking point.

The second was that Daredevil had decided to give Murdock most of his cookies. This possibility stung . . . maybe he was just being polite when he said your cookies tasted good. Through Karen also said they tasted good and she didn't know you were (possibly) the baker. Besides what kind of friends gives terrible tasting cookies to their friends . . . maybe it was less a re-gifting situation and maybe those cookies were some kind of weird retainer fee. If rumor was to be believed, it wouldn't be the first time that Nelson & Murdock had accepted baked goods instead of cash for payment. On the negative side, cookies don't pay the firm's expenses . . on the positive side, homemade baked ones don't have a paper trail. The IRS doesn't expect you to report how many pies you got this financial quarter. Strengthened the argument that cookies couldn't taste bad. You doubted Daredevil was stupid enough to pay his legal team with terrible cookies.

That one at least sounded plausible.

The third was that Murdock was Daredevil and he decided to share his cookies with his coworkers.

Part of you wanted to dismiss this possibility out of hand. Murdock was a lawyer. Being a vigilante in general was illegal. The damage he inflicted on criminals easily qualified his actions as second or third degree assault. An ambitious DA could possibly make an argument for attempted murder in some cases. All of which were felonies with mandatory jail sentences. It was violation of the Attorneys Rules of Professional Conduct specifically and legal ethics in general . . .

You startled when a hand touched your shoulder. You looked up and saw Karen standing in front of you, looking concerned and holding a small stack of papers. You realized that you must have missed her previous attempts to get your attention.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” you said. “S-sorry. Got lost in thought.”

She smiled. “Happens to the best of us. And people coming to a law office often have a lot on their minds. Are you ready?”

You nodded and got to your feet. You would untangle the puzzle of Daredevil and Murdock later. You followed Karen to the door with frosted glass. She knocked and called out, “Foggy, your two o'clock is here.”

Foggy? That was a rather unusual name.

“Come on it,” a man's voice called back. Karen opened the door and ushered you into the small office. It was much like the public areas of the firm – secondhand, mismatched but comfortable looking furniture and older electronics, almost obsessively neat.

Coming around the desk to greet you was a stocky blonde man dressed in a brown suit. He wasn't as classically handsome as his partner but was still good looking in that comfortable, guy next door kind of way. He extended his hand and said, “Hello, I'm Foggy Nelson.”

“Foggy?” you repeated, shaking his hand.

“Yeah,” he said and grinned. “It's better than Franklin.”

There was nothing you could say about that. If he wanted people to call him Foggy that was his prerogative. Besides, as far as eccentricities go, an unusual nickname wasn't a bad one to have.

So you introduced yourself and got yourself seat as Karen had a low-voiced conversation with Foggy while she handed him the stack of papers, that had been bundled together into different sets with the use of alligator clips. He nodded and pulled two of the stacks out of the pile. He was careful to keep them angled so you couldn't see what was written on them but that didn't stop you from noticing that one stack seemed to be made out of a different kind of paper. He sat back down in his chair and the two stacks were tucked away in a drawer in his desk as Karen walked out and closed the door behind her.

Then he returned his attention to you and asked, “What brings you to Nelson & Murdock?”

“The police might want to interrogate me.”

“About?”

“Daredevil. They seem to believe that I know who he is,” you said.

Nelson went rigid with tension. He studied you with shrewd blue eyes. In instant, the air of amiable absentmindedness vanished for something sharper and harder. In that moment, you knew those who underestimated Foggy Nelson did so at their own peril.

“And do you? Know who Daredevil is?” he asked in a calm, manner-of-fact tone.

“No,” you answered. It wasn't a lie. Because you didn't know that Murdock was Daredevil. You suspected he was Daredevil. Suspicion were not the same thing as knowing. Besides, it was an awfully big accusation to make. Something that, if true and could be proven by the authorities, would cost Murdock both his freedom and his law license. Would cost Nelson his license if they could prove that he knew and hadn't report his partner's unethical behavior to the bar association. Maybe his freedom too if they could find proof that he was an accessory to Daredevil's illegal activities.

Nelson relaxed a little but not all the way. He said, “I think you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

You described the encounter in the alley and your interaction with the police afterward. He listened, took notes, and asked a few clarifying questions.

Then he asked the big question, “Anything else?”

You hesitated. You knew you needed to be honest with Nelson. It was important that the client be candid with their attorney. They can't give you the best legal advice without knowing all the facts. Even the ones that don't paint their client in the best light.

But if your crazy notion was right and his legal partner was a vigilante . . . something he may or may not be aware of . . .

“That wasn't the first time you meet Daredevil,” Nelson said. It wasn't a question.

“No,” you admitted.

“Tell me,” he said. And after a moment of consideration, you told him.

Well, you told him most of it. You left out that Daredevil was an outrageous flirt with a plethora of cheesy pick-up lines. Describing his sort of rivalry with Houdini had already earned you an incredulous “What?” from Nelson.

You also kept how hot you found him to yourself. Those thoughts were embarrassing enough in your head. The very thought of saying them out loud . . . especially somewhere that the man you suspected of being Daredevil could return at any minute and overhear . . . no. A thousand times no. You would have to fake your death, change your name, and move to another country.

And that kiss to your cheek. Because that might lead to discussing both the previously mentioned thirty thoughts and how much you have been pinning over him. And again, you would die of embarrassment if he came back and overheard that.

Nelson's legal advice was not unexpected. In that he recommended that you call the police the next time you encountered what was technically a wanted man. That some of your actions – namely assisting with his injury – could be considered slipping into murky waters of accessorial liability and that you shouldn't do that again. Or anything else that might considered assisting Daredevil commit crimes.

It was good advice. You felt a little bad that you weren't intending to follow any of it. But if you weren't crazy . . . and Nelson knew . . . then maybe Nelson would forgive you for ignoring his advice on this particular matter. Since he probably didn't want his partner to go to prison.

Nelson seemed to need a moment to collect his thoughts after that. You gave it to him since you also needed time to think. Preferably about something that wouldn't make you blush. Luckily your brain had the perfect thing to latch onto and over-analyze.

Murdock was blind. And you didn't believe he was faking it. The bar exam, for example, would have required him to visit an ophthalmologist so they could fill out a form verifying his disability, whether or not his impairment was likely to improve in the next six months, and what accommodations he needed to take the exam. And they wouldn't be the only ones who would want such documentation before they would allow him to use disability accommodations.

Between that and the ableism it would be subjected to a person to, you couldn't see why anyone would fake being blind for any appreciable length of time. It sounded like a lot of trouble for very little benefit.

You didn't know the extend of his blindness. Most visually impaired people weren't completely, no light perception blind. It was possible that Matt (and if you were right Daredevil) had some sight. Just not enough to do things like read documents with standard-sized lettering but enough that he could fight without a guide. You knew there were blind martial artists but you didn't know if they needed a sighted guide to compete.

Even if he was completely blind, you had seen a documentary once about blind people who had learned how to echolocate. It wasn't an easy skill to learn. It was your understanding that most people found the white cane or a guide dog far easier to learn and/or adjust to. But it was possible. And if it was possible for someone with human-level hearing . . . than it was entirely possible for someone with superhuman hearing.

And being blind might explain some of Daredevil's peculiarities. Like his strategy of taking out of the lights before attacking. If he was already used to navigating without sight, the resulting darkness wouldn't bother him. But it would bother his opponents who presumably weren't so accustomed to working without their sight.

And when you thought about, you realized that he never mentioned seeing horrible things happening to people. Only terrible things that he had heard. He didn't look for trouble. He listened for it . . .

It was crazy but . . . but . . .

The silence in Nelson's office was scattered by a knock on the door that startled both of you.

“Foggy?” called a male voice through the door. Murdock had returned.

“Come in Matt,” Nelson called back. There was a peculiar tension to his voice. Like he was barely restraining the urge to yell.

Well if what you suspected was true and if Nelson knew about it, you couldn't blame him for wanting to loudly demand what the hell Murdock was thinking . . . . A sentiment that only strengthened when Murdock came into the office and you saw the visible effort it took for Nelson not to glare at him.

Looking closely at the jaw line and that mouth, you were more than convinced than ever. But you weren't going to confront him here. On the off-chance that Nelson didn't know about his partner's extra-legal activities.

“Do you have the papers for the McNamara file? Karen was supposed to print them for me before she headed out,” Murdock asked, either obvious to or ignoring the tension in his partner. You were betting on ignoring.

“She did,” Nelson confirmed. While he was opening his desk drawer, he said, almost casual. “This is Matt Murdock, my business partner. Matt, say hello to our new client. She is sitting in the chair at your three o'clock.”

“Hello,” he said with a smile, turning his head in your direction. “I believe we met in the hall.”

“How –?” you started to ask before remembering that it was a silly question.

“Your shampoo and lotion. Makes you smell like coconut and vanilla.”

“I smell like a coconut macaroon?” You asked. Then wanted to groan. Why did you always lose control of your mouth around this man?

A wicked grin spread across his face. “Very much so. I quite like the taste of coconut macaroons.”

You felt your face flush. You had the feeling he wasn't talking about cookies.

Nelson gave his partner an irritated look. “Stop flirting with our client.”

“I wasn't flirting.” Murdock objected and did his best to look innocent. Nelson rolled his eyes and muttered something too low for you to hear under his breath. Which only made Murdock's lips twitch with amusement.

“If you can forgive my partner for being a flirt,” Nelson said, ignoring Murdock's objection to being called a flirt. “I would like to be able consult him about your case. Do I have your permission?”

“Yes, of course,” you said.

“Then lets get all the necessary paperwork filled out, read, and signed.”

So you did and soon all the Is were dotted and the Tees crossed. You made your first retainer payment to the firm before leaving your new lawyers to whatever discussion / argument about you that Nelson had been waiting patiently to have.

You headed home and tried to think about how you were going to tell Daredevil about knowing he was a blind lawyer ninja vigilante. It was going to be an interesting conversation.

Ending Notes

It finally happened. Reader has now meet Matt Murdock.

And yes, that Matt got to meet Reader in the hallway before she meet Foggy and her cookies being in the office were both intentional. Apparently he decided that being subtle was for the birds.

I'm not a lawyer. My assessment of charges the characters could be facing is based on my interpretation of the New York Penal Code. An interpretation that could be wrong. Since not a lawyer. Furthermore, Foggy's legal advice to Reader is my best guess for such as advice and absolutely should not be taken as actual legal advice.

Again, if any lawyers are reading these stories and feel I have erred on the legal front, please feel free to offer constructive criticism in the comments.

#daredevil #fan fic #the alley cat series #matt murdock x fem!reader #tw: mentions of ableism

[fuck-customers]

Just a curious question for mods (Rodney) and followers: At your retail job (current or past) what does being a store lead entail? What responsibilities/privileges come with it + what are the upsides and downsides?

My boss recently pushed the idea of being a lead on me and essentially said "someone is leaving, so a lead position will be available, you should do it, you've been here long enough" I haven't officially been offered the position, but she essentially said she wants me to do it.

Which....yes, I have, but the reason I'm not a lead is because a lead has almost all of the responsibilities of a store manager, with the exception of hiring new employees and doing payroll, for about 1/3 of the pay.

Plus, even though a lead position is a management position, it's not full-time.

Essentially, if I agreed to be a lead, I would gain about $2 more an hour, yet still be part-time (so, no benefits) and my hours would POSSIBLY increase from 4-12 hours a week, to maybe 20+. (But not necessarily, because there is a current lead who has 8 hours for this entire week)

Regardless, if I am officially offered the position, I will probably take it anyway, because I need something more for my resume and I think that'll look good. And I'm hoping to move soon, so I won't have to do it for long.

The responsibilities of a lead at my store (to my knowledge) are:

-open/close the store (physically open the door with the key, set/disable the alarm, open/close registers + count the cash, do the sales report at the end of the night) + now we have to clean the bathrooms every night (with no proper ppe, but that is another tale)

-cover employee breaks (this is the easiest and least objectionable one)

-are in charge of getting coverage if an employee calls out/doesn't show up (ask on the clock employees to stay late, call off-clock employees to come in)

-are actually usually the one that has to cover shifts (now I can't just ignore my boss's texts, rip)

-deal with any Karens/unruly customers/get yelled at by customers, essentially any time anyone "needs to speak to your manager" you gotta go over there

-deal with/solve any employee disputes/problems that don't have to do with payroll

-do whatever daily tasks the SM assigns on a list for you to do, usually includes things like putting up/taking down sale signs, cleaning certain aisles, doing inventory tasks, exception counts, etc.. I've seen various daily tasks lists...they're usually 2+ pages long.

I'm sure there's other responsibilities I'm forgetting/am unaware of, but this is all I can think of right now. It seems like a lot for just $2 more an hour, not even full-time tbh.

BONUS QUESTIONS:

-At your current/former jobs, what responsibilities did leads have? More or less than what I listed?

-Any advice? I have a few things in mind that I plan to do, such as always standing by my coworkers and taking their side over the customer. (Unless the employee is 100% in the wrong, but even then, I plan on phrasing it like "I think my coworker here was a little bit confused on the policy, but they tried their best, this is the way it's supposed to be, but it was not my coworker's fault" basically I won't throw anyone under the bus) I also plan on not completely kissing customer ass. If you're a customer and you're being rude and disrespectful to my employee, you will not still get your discount or whatever you wanted. I am not bending over backwards for disrespectful Karens. And I plan on regularly consulting with my coworkers for any suggestions on how I could improve/make things easier for them. Any other suggestions?

I have never worked anywhere that had a "Team Lead" position. So I can't say with experience.

My daughter works at the bread bowl place and when they made her a team lead all they told her was that she needed to train new people and know policies and procedures 100% and they were suppose to give her a $2 raise. But her and a friend started at the same time, made team lead at the same time, but he got the $2 and she got $1.50 and had to fight for almost a year for the .50.

Since her getting the title she has not trained the new people (the new hires have) and she is treated like a normal part timer. She has also said most of the people working are team leads.

-Rodney

[ferallester]

hoo boy good morning everybody!

I saw the video title a few hours ago when I first woke up, and immediately went back to sleep bc I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it at that hour LMAO

I just saw the thumbnail properly too

this is… this is gonna be an absolute trip huh

live reaction under the cut bc I’m Terrified!

first of all: THOSE ARE THE SAME FUCKING SHIRTS

second of all: ‘nostalgia cannon to the face’

correction: that is in fact a different shirt that Phil is wearing, but it is ridiculously similar, what the hell

‘quintessential emo’ ‘I was serving twink Karen’

‘it’s just… us’ ‘it’s just us being stupid’

‘you’re giving us full sphincter on YouTube’

‘ass and foot baiting’

‘quite restrained’ it’s 2012 of course you’re being restrained

HEART EYES HOWELL COMING IN FULL FORCE WHILE PHIL ATTEMPTS TO TOUCH HIS NECK

I think I found their favourite part of pinof 4 (the cursed Justin Bieber and HMS QEII masks) (lmao imagine if they made actual masks of the boat)

wow those are some really ugly glasses phil

why DO you boys have bugspray in here

‘unless they pressed their noses TOGETHER’ *a sound that normal humans make*

why aren’t they reacting to the blooper videos you guys do know you have bloopers available right

official rating: mid

THE CURSED DAN FACE WAS ON THE SUNDAY TIMES—

oh that is so incredibly unfortunate, why did they use that particular video as a photo reference LMAOOOOO

also who scanned this particular copy what the hell happened to that page

thank you Dan for a recreation

either they don’t want to talk about it or they forgot about 2012

ah. ah that explains a lot about why pinof 5 Looks Like That

PHIL— DAN—

THEY HAD TO REFILM PINOF 5–

the wrecking ball

Dan is fucking relentless with his past self

‘tit tackle’

oh that’s mildly horrifying how low they can go, I think I found an ick

YOU MOTHERFUCKERS— NOT THE REAL VOICES—

I hate them

weirdly the vibes of pinof 5, at least with these idiots reacting to themselves, have gotten. so much worse

Dan able to predict what his past self would do next…

‘crack protected’

oh Phil

a gingerphobic goose…

‘I feel like you’ve recovered from that’ ‘:|’ ‘no?’ ‘A—’

I really hope someone makes a gif of them arguing over the old handshake from pinof 6 and this video

‘assigned mother’ y’know that makes sense actually

successful monkfish backwards!

Phil looks at the camera and Dan just looks at Phil at the end, STOP

they literally JUST used fireside.caf for the shoulder thing actually

the sexy end screen dance also like… horrifically iconic

I always forget about their weird noises they make at the end AND THE BOYS ARE AMUSED

Phil… Phil there’s 8 billion people… on earth… XD

this is the pinof that came out just before I got into them :0

Dan’s hair is. Awful

MOTHERFUCKER DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE SHOW US FESTIVE DITL

shoutout to the vyous tho

love that Phil actively remembers that Dan complained about the thickness of the whiskers

‘I AM BECOME YOU’ also cheese umbrella is still awful (affectionate) to this day

THEY BOTH USED THE SUNGLASSES EMOJI MOST RECENTLY

also hello lobster emoji I know exactly why you’re here

pæch

THEY MOSTLY REMEMBERED THE LIZARD SONG—

rip that peace lily

the anaconda scene…

the game does indeed still work

‘TIMMY LIKES IT’

WHAT THE FUCK DID DAN SAY— also I think I found the most iconic moment of this video so far, they’re just DYING—

TATINOF reference

shut the FUCK UP boys we KNOW you’re touching

as someone who once ate a lemon near-whole bc fruit and who regularly eats lemon and lime slices, their flinching is a fail

existential crisis :(

boys isn’t the time for the merch outdated???? anyway moving on

SLUTTY CATBOY

my calendar and sweater are FINALLY shipping btw and I’m so excited!!!!

THEY’RE GONNA DO A TIERLIST :D

PINOF 7!!!! NEXT EPISODE IS PINOF 7, FINALLY I’LL BE ABLE TO RELATE AGAIN

THEY FINISHED RECORDING POPPY PLAYTIME CHAPTER 2 AT FOUR????

‘danisshowinghole’ ‘amazingtimmy’ thanks!

oh my god I can’t wait for part three actually

#the feral speaketh #dan and phil #phan #mass-reblog time!

[the-shining-river]

Kastle

No but seriously, the speed with which those two fall for each other is plain ridiculous. Like, yes, they had this connection in DD s02, and there was trust, and this brutal kind of raw honesty that they demanded from each other, but there was also all that active murdering going on and what not.

And now almost a year has passed, Matt is recently presumed killed by a building, Foggy has moved up in life for a while now, and Karen seems lonely but keeps doing her thing, and then Frank shows up and--says he wanted to say hi but acknowledges she might be angry with him? and asks about the gun in her bag as a way to remind her that she has all the power in this situation? and is proud of her for it? and the way they just keep wanting to smile at each other?? Despite Frank’s problems, it feels like such a novel, light-hearted side of him, I don’t think Karen ever got a chance to see it before? A timidly smiling Frank?? (my heart, ugh)

And of course she’s hesitant, but he keeps his distance as non-threatening as possible, and she dares tease him for his hipster looks (a bruise-free Frank is something novel too), and he goes and jokes right back. And then she asks, because she has to, because that’s what she said would make him dead to her before, and Frank answers honestly that his ‘business’ is finished, so this huge problem is not dividing them anymore. And that’s when she loses her shoes and drops her guard for a moment and really looks at him.

“I need to know if you said anything.” “God no. No. Frank, you should know me better than that.”

*Screechinggg* How? Why? When would he have learned that about Karen? From how she kept chasing the truth about his family, from how she lied to cops for him? Point is, Karen thought Frank knew her like that.

Frank asks for her help so nicely -- meaning he came to her for her competence, and I don’t think that’s something Karen experiences very often, being often dismissed as that cute, leggy blonde (with an attitude) (I think), and this time he lets helping him be her own free decision, instead of that time he used her as bait in the diner.

And it’s already a bit much, this role reversal, and this lack of active murdering standing between them, and him looking good-- Karen needs to sit and drink some beer as she already lets tiny smiles escape while she asks her sensible investigator questions, and then he just kills her with those flowers and that smile.

And Karen kills Frank right back with how easy it is to talk to her, to get her help -- no manipulation, no quid pro quo bullshit, nothing.

“Okay.” “Okay.”

Frank puts the roses on the coffee table and steps back again, giving her space so she’d feel safe with the dead man, the murderer, and then Karen just crosses that distance again, with a HUG. When was the last time someone brought flowers for Karen Page? (even if rationalizing it as a means of communication) When was the last time someone hugged Frank Castle? And it’s such a tight, good, heartfelt hug, my gods. And considering the grand total of their previous physical interaction consists of one (1) instance of Frank bodily shielding her from bullets??? I’m ded.

And sure, things start to get complicated again soon enough, with Frank wanting to go after Micro, and Karen unhappy that he’s contemplating killing people again, but this here, this felt like such a SOLID new beginning for them. The physical freedom and the respect/consideration and the more equal footing. On top of that honesty and sense of connection they had built before, the inevitability of this collision is SO beautiful to watch ;___;

#kastle #kastle meta #frank castle #karen page #beng flailing and overanalyzing #the contents of her new trashcan #so much fun! #why did nobody tell me The Punisher is such a fun show to watch #no seriously #beng's shiny meta

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

black friday - m. murdock

a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"

For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.

For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.

And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?

You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.

Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.

So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.

You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.

Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.

So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…

Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.

Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.

“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”

What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’

Please.

“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”

“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.

“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.

“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh! And Matt is going!”

Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?

“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.

• • •

At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.

Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.

Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.

“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.

“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.

“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”

“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”

Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?

“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.

Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?

“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”

“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.

So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.

Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.

“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”

“I’m good, Karen.”

“No, thank you.”

Silence. Sickening silence.

Then, he spoke.

“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”

What?

You furrowed your brows, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.

“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”

That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.

“You say that a lot.”

“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”

Your face was beet red.

“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”

That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.

“A list?”

“A list.”

“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.

“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”

He tilts his head.

“Your ex?”

“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”

Matt knows the feeling.

“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”

“May 1st.”

“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”

“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“You’re rather talkative now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

• • •

Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.

It’s the apologizing that gets you.

You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.

You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.

“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.

“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.

“Well, remember that list we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”

That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.

He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.

You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.

Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.

So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.

“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

Huh.

Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.

Wait, what?

You brush it off, before asking,

“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”

“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”

“Always.”

“Then yes.”

Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.

• • •

October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.

Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.

So, you try a lot of things.

You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.

You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.

You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.

But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  

For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.

And the second thing is..

You don’t want to leave your coworkers.

You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.

Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.

Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.

And then, there’s Matt.

He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.

He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.

“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”

He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.

But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.

So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.

Until this one day.

It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.

Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.

“You need to move to a better apartment.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.

“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.

“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”

“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.

And you need to take a second.

He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.

This thought strikes you.

This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.

Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.

This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.

“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.

He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.

“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.

So this is it.

You just can’t deny it.

You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.

You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.

• • •

Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.

You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.

You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.

You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.

You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.

It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.

So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”

He grins.

“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.

“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.

“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.

And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”

He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.

“What?”

He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.

People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.

“Matt, what are you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.

When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”

“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.

“That’s my girl.”

• • •

The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.

By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.

“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.

“Watch it.”

“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”

“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.

“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.

“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”

“…Who?”

“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”

You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.

“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”

What a lovely lovely man.

“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.

Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.

It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”

“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”

He gasps happily.

“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”

“Your list, not ours.”

“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”

“You’re easy to help.”

“You’re easy to love.”

He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.

• • •

 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.

Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.

“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Really?”

He grins.

“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.

So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.

Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.

Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.

You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.

• • •

So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…

But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.

You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.

Now, Matt is all you see.

At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.

“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.

“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.

Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.

Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.

“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.

“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?

Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.

“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.

“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”

“Fiancé.” Matt ends.

Fiancé?

“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.

“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.

“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.

Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.

Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.

“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.

“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.

“When you know you know.” He hums.

“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”

“Yup. My list is all done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”

Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #fluff #foggy nelson #karen page #tooth rotting fluff #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock my beloved

[asexual-fandom-queen]

Fanfic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged by @nixie-deangel to do fanfic writer 20 questions, so let's dive in! Tagging @42wallaby-way-sydney @fatherofthebride @coldtomyflash to participate, if they are so inclined.

How many works do you have on AO3? 72

What's your AO3 word count? Just shy of 366,000

What fandoms do you write for? I started out doing most of my writing for The Flash/Arrowverse, but most recently have moved on to writing primarily for Stranger Things, Ted Lasso, 9-1-1, and Teen Wolf

What are your top five fics by kudos? 1. Turn And Face The Strange (Stranger Things, Stoncy) 2. All On The Line (9-1-1, Buddie) 3. Givin' Yourself to Me Can Never Be Wrong (The Flash, Coldflashwave) 4. Hands On Me (I Think I Wanna Let It Happen) (9-1-1, Buddie) 5. House Like a Homecoming (Stranger Things, Poly Monster Hunters)

Do you respond to comments? I do! I kinda never shut up about how important comments are to a fandom's ecosystem, so when I get them, I answer back!

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't usually end fics in full angst mode, but maybe the fic with the most bittersweet ending is Unfair. It's a SethKate (From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series) fic set in the aftermath of a sex pollen situation that leaves them both hurt and vulnerable. But there's still that nugget of hope, because they're hurt and vulnerable together.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? If I'm going for not just pure fluff factor, but how satisfying the happy ending is in the context of the rest of the fic/the source material, I would say Maybe We'll Get Forty Years Together which is a Jamie/Keeley/Roy future fic set during their wedding where Jamie has a chance to hash things out with his father.

Do you get hate on fics? Every once in a blue moon. I write a lot of polyships, and sometimes those polyships are an amalgamation of two sides of a ship war, and people have opinions about that lol. But generally, no.

Do you write smut? What kind? Sure do! I'd say it's what I write primarily. Generally, I write smut with feelings, or angsty smut. Sometimes it's definitely just smut for smut's sake though, which is also fun! I'm a big supporter of being horny on main.

Do you write cross-overs? I don't. The closest I've gotten is writing an AU based on another tv/show. I don't dislike them in principle, I've just never written one myself.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes! Someone stole Taste of Your Lips (I'm On A Ride) and changed it from the original pairing of Zari/Amaya from Legends of Tomorrow to a Lauren/Camilla RPF and posted it on Wattpad. I'm very grateful to the person who messaged me on Tumblr to let me know, because the thief did take it down when I confronted them about it.

Have you ever had a fic translated? I have, and it's really cool to have been asked. My Buddie fic Exploration has been translated to Chinese.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not exactly. I was part of a multi-creator rewrite for season 2 of Legends of Tomorrow, which involved re-plotting and re-drafting as a group, so you could technically count Episode 2: Crisis and Faith.

What's your all-time favourite ship? I'm actually gonna have the dumbest answer for this question because it's a ship I've never written for, probably never will, and don't even really read, but it's Frank Castle and Karen Page from Daredevil/The Punisher. Their dynamic is just exactly what I want out of a ship. No notes.

What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will? I have an Abby/Buck/Eddie fic that's on permanent hiatus that I almost certainly will never finish, especially because, in working on it, it started to splinter off a lot of ideas and dynamics and scenes I actually want to use for an original novel someday, so I don't see myself ever completing it. I would like to finish that novel though lol.

What are your writing strengths? I think I always feel most proud of my characterization being pretty on point, and I get enough comments to that effect that I don't think I'm just making that up. I also think I'm good at writing in small details that seem minor but make an impact.

What are your writing weaknesses? I fizzle out! I don't have good stamina to go back to something if it's gonna take me more than one sitting to write, which is why most of my stuff falls in the 2-4k range. I also lose steam without feedback and encouragement. My educational background is in creative writing, and I've been a long-time member of fandom, plus part of writer's groups even before then, so the idea of writing being a solitary thing is kinda wild to me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? To each their own for this. For me, personally, I'll use a word or a very small sentence I'm reasonably confident is correct in a fic, but for longer sentences, I would write in English and just indicate it was said in another language in the dialogue tag. Plus, even if it was a language I do speak fluently like Frech, it doesn't mean readers do, so I think English is still the way to go.

First fandom you wrote for? So, if we're talking first fic ever, we have to go back to when I was five and six years old and I would make little "books" out of folded index cards where I'd write stories about Sailor Moon or Cardcaptors. My first fic on the Internet was back in my FF.net days, and it was a Kyoya/Haruhi fic for Ouran High School Host Club. My first fic on AO3 was actually a multi-chapter Sterek fic that was never completed and that I've since taken down. The oldest fic of mine you can still find posted on AO3 is a multi-chapter Coldflash fic We Could Keep Things Just The Same, the first chapter of which was posted on February 24th, 2016!

Favourite fic you've ever written? I still feel like I've never topped There's a Menace In My Bed; Can You See His Silhouette. There are some edits I might go back and make with my extra eight (EIGHT!?!) years of writing experience, but the core of what that fic accomplishes? The delicious angst? The emotional minefield of dubious consent/sex pollen/fuck-or-die? The smut as character study? The caretaking? This just hit on a lot of things I like, and I'm really proud of it even all these years later.

#ask meme #tag game #about me #fanfiction #writer

[araminakilla]

Day 57: Sensacine 🎞 🌟 my beloved (part 1)

We are about to end June and start July. That is why, thanks to the new information of the web page Sensacine.com, this time we got double post separated by only a couple of minutes but that (at least in the time I'm releasing them) it counts as separated days, so it's still valid.

Careful, some of these official pictures contain spoilers that you would prefer to avoid, so that's why I'm using the "read more" tool this time. Otherwise, enjoy!

EDIT: Those images were already found by @raffinha but still... I made this post yesterday and it took me two hours to write those posts so I better release this.

So we have a first look to the archeological team that Tad really wants to belong (and the reason the curse happened in the first place) that includes Ryan, a man and a woman.

What can I say? They look like absolute mighty white archeologists who look down on anyone who doesn't fit their standards and are more interested on their discoveries and not in who can be affected by them.

Why I'm pretty sure of that? Like 100% sure of that? You will have to read the rest of the post.

An image of Angent Ramirez who is most likely talking to her and Pickles' team to get Tad and company. It looks like the Chicago Museum is damaged by the fact it has yellow ribbons indicating danger or just not to go there. Probably this scene is after she saw the streaming Mummy made hours ago.

Victoria Moon. Our mysterious woman who we suspect was the redhead "Karen" at first. The only thing we got confirmation is that she is eccentric, that she leaves clues and has spies working for her.

This background appears to be her house shown in the first teaser trailer showing use her love and passion for the unknow and the occult. Bet she is going to be very excited to meet the mummies

Speaking of her, I'm pretty sure she is the one to give Tad this particular rock with an emerald on it. It appears she wants all the help she can get to obtain the precious object.

But why? I think it has to do with the gentleman on the picture behind Tad. They don't look like Victoria apart from the hair, but that theme is going to be material for another post.

A happy Tad in the same place of that exclusive photo with Ramona. I wonder what that means? Whatever it is, it is good to see the Indiana wannabe happy after the Mexico and Chicago incident.

Tad & Mummy worried because they are being persecuted by the police while Ra-Amon-Ah is pointing at something while having the face of a total diva.

Love Ramona, she gives me high Cleo De Nile vibe and I'm so here for it.

She's like "Check please 💅🏼💀"

"I won! I won!" Yeah dude, you won a fast and furious water trip to La Seine with an Indiana wannabe, an Incan mummy and an Egyptian mummy. Sorry boy, maybe the next year. But hey... at least Mummy is happy to see him?

Drama? On my Tadeo Jones? Yep, it appears Tad and Mummy's shenanigans are being noticed by everyone as opposed to the Midas incident in Las Vegas where after a kidnapping nobody did a thing or moved a finger.

There are TV stations people, things are getting out of hand and IT SHOWS.

Sara, poor dear peruvian archeologist Sara Lavroff is dealing with all the things her boyfriend is doing and it is NOT going to be pretty.

Wanna know why?

Because of these guys (and girl) 👆🏽👆🏽👆🏽

With these images and (spoiler: the ones on the other post) we can see that this trio of archeologists plays a part (an antagonic part) in the third story. The last image could be also from the Chicago museum, but one thing is sure: Even if Sara is the one on Tad's side, all the events of the adventure are affecting her and most likely her career.

What could that mean to the growing relationship of Tad and Sara? How is Tad going to try and fix this? And are his attemps to fix it going to break everything... including someone he also cares the most?

More analysis in the second part.

#tadeo jones #tadeo jones 3 #tad the lost explorer #tad the lost explorer 3 #tadeo jones meta #tadeo jones analysis #tadeo jones theory #tad stones #sara lavroff #mummy (tadeo jones) #ramona (tadeo jones) #Ra-Amon-Ah #victoria moon #tadeo jones victoria #tadeo jones ryan #tadeo jones ramirez #agent ramirez #tad 3 countdown

[rickktish]

Today I watched a movie called “Gigi and Nate” about a man who gets meningitis and is paralyzed, who gets a capuchin monkey as a service animal, and I have so many mixed feelings.

On the one hand, the final conflict of the film about the bitch from the store getting a bill put in place that means Nate loses his service animal is just. Infuriating. It’s written the same way you would see a Karen story from Reddit crop up on a youtube or tiktok page with someone playing minecraft in the background, which is an inherently frustrating way to approach anyone. You, as an individual, do not have the right or responsibility to interfere with a disabled person’s functionality for the sake of your personal politics. It’s just a bitch move all around.

On the other hand, the question of monkeys as service animals has real, genuine, meaningful concerns that need to be addressed with it. Monkeys are in fact harder to train than dogs, and harder to get the training to be certain of because they’re absolutely smart enough to comply with your wishes as long as you’re in sight and then do their own thing as soon as you’re gone. Monkey attacks are a real and genuine concern that does in fact need to be addressed, and while the story in the movie is a very individual, personal one, it detracts from the importance of the legislative body to protect the wider body of people. If the lady were going after Nate specifically, legally, with regard to his particular animal, his defense would have held a lot better water. As it is, a single anectodal experience with a rescued monkey who has integrated well with the family does not make it easier to guarantee that other monkeys would do as well. The problem is a mismatch between the personal story and the larger story. Because Nate and his family are getting up there saying “I should be able to keep my monkey” while the karen from the store is arguing “monkeys should not be kept as service animals.” Or rather, she’s arguing that they shouldn’t be kept as pets, but it has the same result.

And it feels gross, because this Karen is 100% making it personal. She saw Nate’s service monkey and decided it was a personal threat to her sense of security and decided to pursue legal action, not against the individual, but in a wider context that has so few applications that it probably only affects the individual in question. It’s like if Umbridge were to hear about Lupin and decide she had to make sure there came to be more stringent laws against werewolves— which, yeah, she’s not pulling him specifically up against the bar, but it’s still targeting him and everyone included in his minority, and it’s clearly going to be directed against him personally. How many people in Tennessee do you think had service monkeys? Probably not a whole lot. This law is going to affect like. Maybe a hundred people, absolute maximum in the immediate sense. If that’s not personal, I don’t know what would be beyond suing Nate’s family specifically for possession of a dangerous animal. But it’s also going to have an effect going forward! It’s going to actually, legitimately prevent future monkey attacks and that is important. That is valuable and vital.

I feel like there ought to have been an in-between option? Like ban further collection and training of monkeys as service animals in the state, but grandfather in already-trained ones or something. Create a registry of active service monkeys in the state and cross them off as they pass away.

Overall I’m left with this frustrating feeling of “the protagonist of this story actually cannot see the larger picture” and “the worst person you know just made a really good point” and none of that nuance is explored in the film itself because Karen’s arguments are presented as purely discriminatory and targeted to hurt Nate specifically except that they’re legitimate arguments, just scripted out of order and context to sound unreasonable. Because she’s the bad guy, and also very much legitimately a bitch. In no way is surrounding a private residence to picket against their service animal a “peaceful protest”— that’s straightup harassment and a hate crime, and Nate’s family should absolutely have sued her for that. And I hate that she has legitimate points, and that they’re completely handwaved as bitchiness, because they’re separate from her bitchiness and need to be met on their own terms.

#This whole movie is just. really irritating me #also as a side note why don’t we ever have movies about a dad fighting for his disabled kid? #why is it always the mom? #ever since taking Human Gender and Sexuality a few semesters agom #I can’t stop thinking about gendered narratives #and it’s pissing me off because I really want to watch a movie with essentially this kind of outline #but let it be the dad who breaks down #and fights for his kid #etc #rick's rambles #rick’s originals #movies #gigi & nate