#Brett Mahoney

[daredevilexchange]

Aaaah... RAREPAIRS!

Here are the works posted for the 2024 Rarepair Minibang! (AO3 collection) The Tumblr post will have the art (or one part, in some cases, the tags, and summaries; you can alternatively click on the title to head directly to AO3!

So here it is, a smorgasbord of the good stuff!

Alpine, Lucky and Deuce

Fic by @42donotpanic, Art by Iithril Rarepair: James “Bucky” Barnes/Clint Barton/Matt Murdock, James “Bucky” Barnes/Clint Barton Tumblr post

--

Stay… Because I Want You To

Fic by @marv-with-a-v, art by @rrr-nightingale Rarepair: Matt Murdock/Danny Rand Tumblr post

--

Foggy Nelson in: 2 Kill 2 Krew

Fic by @pomegranate-belle, art by @melonnabar Rarepair: Frank Castle/Franklin “Foggy” Nelson Tumblr post

--

The Only Good Cop in New York

fic by @certaintendencies, art by @stripedscribe Rarepair: Brett Mahoney/Franklin “Foggy” Nelson Tumblr post

--

Moon Boys and Daredevil

Fic by @42donotpanic, art by @heroofashesnot Rarepair: Matt Murdock/Marc Spector, Jake Lockley & Matt Murdock, Steven Grant & Matt Murdock Tumblr post

--

I Left my Heart on Nidavellir

fic by @marv-with-a-v, art by little_miss_crazy Rarepair: Frank Castle/Franklin “Foggy” Nelson Tumblr post

--

Mortal enemies: till death do us part

Fic by @kimmycup, art by @heroofashesnot Rarepair: Matt Murdock/Franklin “Foggy” Nelson/George Stacy Tumblr post

--

Let me show you my world of books

Fic by @42donotpanic, art by Iithril Rarepair: Clint Barton/Matt Murdock Tumblr post

--

Date Crash

Fic by @ironwingedhawk, art by @melonnabar Rarepair: Frank Castle/Franklin “Foggy” Nelson Tumblr post

--

Always the Bridesmaid…

Fic by @pomegranate-belle, art by @heroofashesnot Rarepair: Loki/Mike Murdock Tumblr post

--

Center of the ring

Fic by @ironwingedhawk, art by @pomegranate-belle Rarepair: Luke Cage/Danny Rand, background Colleen Wing/Misty Knight Tumblr post

--

the full extent of the law

fic by @roipecheur, art by @42donotpanic Rarepair: Rahul “Ray” Nadeem/Matt Murdock Tumblr post

--

Gold

fic by @neko-kohaku, art by @bleedxblack-art Rarepair: Frank Castle/Peter Parker Tumblr post

--

Thank you all <3

Bangin’ banner by MissMoochy ! ID under the cut

Fanart of Danny Rand, Frank Castle, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones and Matt Murdock from the Netflix Marvel TV shows. All five characters are standing behind a table. Danny is wearing a green shirt, smiling gently with his eyes closed. He is holding voodoo dolls of Stick and Alexandra. There are pins in the dolls’ hearts. Frank is wearing his Punisher skull t-shirt but the skull has hearts for eyes. Frank is ripping the head off a Fisk voodoo doll and smirking. There is a doll of Bullseye on the table in front of him. Both dolls have pins stuck in them all over. Luke wearing a black and yellow hoody over a black t-shirt and a yellow beanie hat. He is looking with concern at Frank and holding voodoo dolls of Elektra Natchios and Malcolm Ducasse. Jessica is wearing a black jacket over a purple top. She is frowning and sticking a pin into a voodoo doll of Misty Knight and has a doll of Trisha Walker in her jacket pocket. Matt is wearing a red shirt and red sunglasses. He looks worried and is cuddling voodoo dolls of Karen Page and Foggy Nelson. There are doll hearts and pins on the table in front of him. The table is black and the background is pink.

[gummieturtle]

Brett: gives Peter resin in exchange for case info

Peter: *currently in his "sharpening things" phase*

(there's a reason Rhodey and Tony refuse to give Peter resin)

Tony: ...Peter, what did you make

Peter: A KNIFE!

Tony: NO!

__

fic: in technicolor by deniigiq

fic link

[hellscupboards]

Some Daredevil Valentine's Cards Pt 2 (ID in Alt) | part one

[marvelgaynesstothemax]

Brett: *Walks into police station’s interrogation room and just sighs defeatedly at a pair of empty handcuffs on a table*

Brett: Where’s Frank?

Foggy: Doing stuff.

Brett: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Murdock?

Foggy: Trying to stop Frank from doing stuff.

Brett: And Karen?

Foggy: Trying to stop Matt from stopping Frank from doing stuff.

Brett: I see. And what are you doing here, Nelson?

Foggy: Trying to stop you from stopping Karen from stopping Matt from stopping Frank from doing stuff.

Brett: I fucking quit.

[archivedjuice]

marvel's daredevil — 'a cold day in hell's kitchen' | 2.13

[dalekofchaos]

The Punisher Fancast

With the inevitable success of Daredevil:Born Again, I do hope we get a Punisher continuation. So here's my fancast

My other Marvel fancasts

Spider-Man

Ultimate Spider-Man

X-Men

Fantastic 4

Dark Avengers

Masters Of Evil

Blade

Black Widow

X-Force

Wolverine 

Spider-Verse

Jon Bernthal as The Punisher/Frank Castle

Rainn Wilson as Microchip/David Liberman(EMB is now Ben Grimm so I felt a recast needs to happen)

Katee Sackhoff as Lynn Michaels

Sadie Sink as Rachel Cole-Alves

Jason R. Moore as Curtis Hoyle

Amber Rose Revah as Dinah Madani

Jack Quaid as Detective Martin Soap

Royce Johnson as Det. Sgt. Brett Mahoney

Tricia Helfer as Lieutenant Molly von Richtofen

Kate Mara as Joan the Mouse

Aaron Paul as Spacker Dave

Tyler Labine as Nathan Bumpo

Lauren Cohan as Kathryn O'Brien

Alexander Skarsgard as Hate-Monger

Gabriel Macht as The Elite

Anjelica Huston as Ma Gnucci

Diego Boneta as Eddie Gnucci

Louis Cancelmi as Bobby Gnucci

Michael Zegen as Carlo Gnucci

Michael Imperioli as Nicky Cavella

Ian Hanmore as Don Massimo Cesare

Dolph Lundgren as The Russian

Thomas Jane as Bruno Costa

John David Washington as Barracuda

Kevin Durand as Carl Burbank/Bushwacker

Chris Messina as Hammerhead

Arian Moayed as Damage

Vincent D'Onofrio as Kingpin/Wilson Fisk

Wilson Bethel as Bullseye

Laurence Fishburne as G.W. Bridge

[sinvulkt]

in technicolor by deniigiq ( @deniigi )

Brett sighed and looked down at the folder in his hand.

“Your name is Peter, right?”

“Lawyer.”

“Peter, we haven’t even started talking. Let’s just take a minute to ease up.”

“Lawyer.”

“Bud, we haven’t charged you with a crime. This is just talking.”

“Law. Yer.”

Goddamn.

(Brett's encounters with Team Red/vigilantes and their weird fucking way of helping). Completed, 120k words.

*** ** * ** ***

Chapter 3:

Lawyer or not, Matt had survived 8, going on nine hours of questioning by the whole station. Everyone had their own style and you would have thought that by then, someone’s would have worked. Hell, anyone else might have been pushed to make even a false confession at that point. Matt was a tenacious son of a bitch, Brett would give him that. “Matt, you need anything before we get started?” he asked. Matt groaned into Foggy’s shoulder. “To leave?” he tried. Sorry, pal.   “Are you familiar with a person called Daredevil?” “Yes.” “What do you know about him?” “He’s a fucking asshole.” “Oh? How do you know that?” “He’s the reason I’ve been here for two million years.”

[reillyparkerluck]

incorrect vigilantes part 2

Foggy: Five little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and…

Claire: Was diagnosed with mesothelioma.

Karen: Mama called the doctor and the doctor said…

Matt: You may be entitled to financial compensation if he or a loved one dies.

Brett: STOP RUINING MY CHILDHOOD

---

Peter: Throw lamps at people who need to lighten up, and throw handles at someone who needs to get a grip!

Luke: Throw a refrigerator at someone who needs to chill.

Danny: Throw scissors at someone who needs to cut it out.

Matt: Throw microwaves at people who need to get fired up.

Jessica: Throw a brick at someone to kill them.

Claire, who just woke up to feed her cat: Why are you people in my apartment, and how are you all still alive

---

Luke: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Jessica: Yes.

Luke: I love you.

Jessica: It back.

*Later* Peter: Why is Luke crying on the floor?

---

Jessica: So, are you two dating now?

Matt & Foggy: Yes.

Jessica: Why?

Matt: I happen to find Foggy very appealing.

Jessica: Yeah, I can understand that. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with Foggy.

---

Peter, to Mary Jane: Would you like to stay for dinner?

All the vigilantes simultaneously: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

---

Mary Jane: Oh, to be a bored heir to the throne who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener.

Peter: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the heir’s room because he's in love with her.

Luke: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for his secret deliveries in the middle of the night.

Matt: Oh, to be the heir’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other.

Danny: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending.

Jessica: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the heir’s personal life and who dies of dysentery at age 23.

---

Jessica: *running towards Trish with open arms*

Trish: *moves out of the way*

Jessica: Hey, why'd you move?!

Trish: I thought you were going to attack me.

Jessica: I was going to hug you!

Trish: Why would you hug me?

Jessica: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

[aficionadoenthusiast]

😂😊

😂 A fic that made you laugh out loud

Dear lord. SO MANY. I am a huge fan of comedy, so a lot of what I read is funny. But I think I'm gonna have to go with:

in technicolor by deniigiq

What can I say? The observor pov and wildlife biologist metaphors captivated me (and made me wake my roommate up at truly ungodly hours of the morning with laughter). (So much of what deniigiq writes is hilarious as well.)

Brett sighed and looked down at the folder in his hand. “Your name is Peter, right?” “Lawyer.” “Peter, we haven’t even started talking. Let’s just take a minute to ease up.” “Lawyer.” “Bud, we haven’t charged you with a crime. This is just talking.” “Law. Yer.” Goddamn. (Brett's encounters with Team Red/vigilantes and their weird fucking way of helping)

😊 A fic that made you smile on a bad day

You'll Never Leave Me (if I'm already gone) by Kaymardsa

I got some pretty bad news around New Year's and then went and read (half of) this fic, and it did make me smile! (Although I now realize that when I woke up the next morning, I forgot to finish reading it?? lmao I can't believe I did that. I'll finish it soon; sorry @kaymardsa! It really is a wonderful story, I just got distracted)

And if you ask [Charlie], he would say that fuckboy, as a general term, is pushing it as far as accuracy of definition is concerned, but Guy had made the argument that "'desperate, pining, closeted bisexual romantic with a really really horny predisposition to fuck literally anyone that looks like Banks' is a bit of a mouthful", and Charlie could see his point. Or The one where Charlie and Adam use casual sex as a coping mechanism for their poorly hidden feelings for each other the two years they were apart. Now that they live half an hour from each other, maybe they can work it out. Or maybe it gets worse.

from this ask game

[daredevilexchange]

The Only Good Cop in New York

fic by @certaintendencies, art by @stripedscribe

Explicit Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Daredevil (TV)

Relationship: Brett Mahoney/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson

Characters: Brett Mahoney, Foggy Nelson, Matt Murdock, Karen Page, Jessica Jones (Marvel), Bess Mahoney, Frank Castle, Marci Stahl

Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Rescue, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, dirty cops, possibly weird pee stuff, Sharing Clothes, There Was Only One BedSpooningSage Cab Driver

Words: 27,994

Summary: Brett and Foggy navigate dirty cops and complicated feelings, as well as multiple kidnappings.

--

Banter? Kindergarten Shenanigans? Rescues? Two cuties getting together? ... you know what to do ;-)

Hand sewn embroidery on white fabric in a wooden hoop. Outlined hands reaching towards each other - Foggy's with a bloodied zip tie around the wrist, Brett's with flames surrounding. Blue text reads "I'm your person"

[ao3sdaredevil]

An old cop joke:

What do you call a wife –beater who never goes to jail?

One of New York’s finest.

Brett remembers this joke, remembers the old beat cop who told it two him, a detective who did twice her fair time as a traffic officer and time and a half again as a beat cop before making detective. He remembers her steel-coloured bun, her nicotine stained fingers, and her stony-faced, laugh-so-you-don’t-cry gallows humor as she told it to him, in the ER of one of Hell’s Kitchen’s over worked and underfunded hospitals.

She’d been staring at a woman in to get treated for a broken arm, at the way she kept tugging her wine-coloured cardigan down over the finger shaped bruises on her wrist.

Remember, she’d told him, remember this, remember this whenever any cop ever tries to preach loyalty to each other over loyalty to the law, loyalty to your fellow boys in blue over loyalty to this woman right here, married to the captain’s pet over on at the 17th. She stared at him, this old battered cop when Brett was still fresh out of the academy, all starched collar and optimism, and she stared at him and told him that joke as a warning, daring him to laugh, informing him that she’d been expected to laugh at the joke, when she’d first started.

[hellscupboards]

Daredevil Drawcember Day 15: Family (id in alt)

[fandommemes]

Daredevil Meme

1 Season

2 Villains

3 Bible Verses

4 Characters

5 Locations

6 Dynamics

7 Scenes

8 Battles

9 Episodes

10 Quotes

[mari--lace]

For the @daredevilexchange: Matt and Brett friendship, maybe identity reveal, maybe Brett as the cop in the hostage situation in ep6 of s1.

He’s not Daredevil’s friend, okay? He’s not. But. He remembers him talking about some kind of mysterious organization working with the Yakuza, then walking away slowly, clearly hurt. Daredevil has always been, in Brett’s eyes, desperate to help his city. To do the right thing, even if he chose to wear a mask to do it. There was a point where he was the only one Brett felt safe enough to trust. How could that man be the killer of the Bulletin? Something’s not right. A lot isn’t, right now.

Brett was about to sit down at his desk, but he stops mid-action. Thinking about that messed up thing with the children and the Yakuza made him remember something else, too. Daredevil never told him his identity, of course, but… He did trust Brett with another piece of information. A person Daredevil trusted.

Brett sits down. He’s sure he wrote her name down somewhere in his notes.

Read more on Ao3!

[typhoid-moi]

Peoplewatching

Chapter 1/3

(Gen, teenage Matt Murdock)

In O & M, Ms. Lucero taught Matt to hold his cane like a pencil, directing it with his index finger to give him control. He swings the cane to the right when he steps forward with his left foot, then swings it left when he steps with his right foot. The counterintuitive rhythm took a while to master. But he mastered it.

There’s no one else to take care of him, not unless you count Stick. And Matt’s not sure if he does.

He pulls open the heavy bodega door and carefully finds his way to the deli counter and grill at the back. Today is the first day of the month. The church gets to keep Matt’s Social Security Disability payments, but Sister Mary Ignacia always slips him some cash; he has four fives folded lengthwise in his pocket and he plans to spend one on a sandwich and a Snapple from the cold case.

The bodega is crowded. Whoever is on the grill today is talking loudly in Spanish with some other guys. Matt hears a clutter of overlapping heartbeats and starts to get overwhelmed. Who’s on line to order and who is waiting for their food and who is just here hanging out? Where should he stand? Do they see him already?

Stick gave him a breathing exercise to calm him down at times like this, but Matt can’t remember it. There is no reason for him to be here; they’ve got peanut butter back at St. Agnes’s. He turns around, reorients himself to the aisle, and taps himself back to the front of the store.

“Hey, kid,” a voice calls. “Blind kid. Hold up. I got you next!” But Matt is already pushing his way out the jangling door like a weirdo. Right foot, tap. Left foot, tap. Half-running. He trips over something he should have found with his cane, and goes sprawling. His palms sting.

No matter how fast he is, he can’t get away from himself.

::::

When he first got discharged from the hospital, different neighbors would take turns coming to sit with him while his dad was at work. “What do my eyes look like?” Matt asked Trang from 4D. One year older than him, raspberry-scented body wash, playing her GameBoy Pocket on the other end of the couch.

“They’re brown,” she said without pausing her game.

“Yeah, duh. But do they look weird? Or normal.

“Normal.”

“Do they look different at all? If you didn’t know me, would you think I could see?”

“I guess.” Trang’s breathing maintained its steady in and out. Link’s ocarina played a song. “Maybe if I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“What if you were paying attention?”

“Then I’d probably know. Because you don’t really look at things, do you?”

“Oh. Right,” Matt said.

::::

His life should feel so different now from what it used to be. But a lot of things are still the same. He still goes to City Knoll Middle School in the P.S. 111 building on West 53rd. He confesses his sins to the same priests and attends catechism class with the same kids from the neighborhood. He's known Nico Persiani by sight for years – he's the kid with the white cane and the extra-thick but mostly useless glasses. But the two of them never really talked until Matt moved to St. Agnes’s.

Now that they live in the same dorm, Nico wants to be friends. And he never shuts up. He tells Matt all kinds of personal stuff. That he’s twelve, too, and his corrected vision is 20/300 in his better eye. That his dead mom was from St. Thomas, in the Caribbean, that his white dad surrendered parental rights, but sends guilty letters when he’s drunk that the nuns love to read out loud. That the new Star Wars movie sucked, but Ewan MacGregor is actually a better Obi-Wan than Sir Alec Guiness was. That his favorite food is sushi and his favorite color is yellow.

Then, he stops himself. “Oh, man. Sorry. I’m not trying to be a jerk about it.”

“It’s cool. You’re allowed to have a favorite color.”

Matt listens to Nico’s heartbeat and the squeak of thin-soled sneakers on the linoleum as the other boy awkwardly shifts his weight. It is garbage day and the smell drifting in through the cracked window is terrible. The ceiling fan stirs the hot air, but the pressure tells Matt it’ll rain tonight. The A uptown express is passing through the tunnel under their feet and some of the older girls are in the rectory, playing Janet Jackson’s “Together Again” on repeat while they practice their routine for the dance team.

Matt’s head hurts, like it always does now, and every inch of his skin hurts. His heart hurts, too, a pain that feels real and grounded in the body. And Nico feels bad for him because he can’t see colors.

“I heard what happened to you,” says Nico.

“I know,” says Matt. Everyone has.

::::

He used to get comped tickets for Battlin’ Jack Murdock’s boxing matches. He’d sit alone in the front row and watch the fight, but in between rounds, he’d turn around and watch the crowd. Old people. Young people. Mostly men, but some women mixed in. Rich and poor, shoulder to shoulder. He’d watch their faces and body language, notice the clothes they wore, make up stories about them. Who was from out of town. Who didn’t like violence. Who had bet on the loser.

He can’t do that anymore. Now, people watch him.

::::

He notices the different ways Stick uses his cane against different surfaces. One minute, his teacher might let it skim delicately over the sidewalk, then the next, he’ll slam it against the side of a newspaper box or drag it skittering over a subway grate. Sometimes there’s a long, long wait between taps, as if Stick has actually forgotten this tool that Ms. Lucero says should function as an extension of the arm. Other times, Stick holds the cane in his fist, perpendicular to the concrete, and he brings the tip down with a hard rap, like he’s trying to poke a hole in the street. BANG. It makes Matt jump.

Maybe Stick is listening for the echoes. Maybe he’s just trying to get people’s attention so they’ll get out of his way. Matt’s not stupid enough to think that Stick doesn’t always know exactly what he’s doing. But he can’t help thinking about how it must look to anyone watching. He remembers how he used to stare at Nico, before. He knows that when he and Stick are out in public, eyes are always on them. And Stick doesn’t look very respectable. Yes, that’s why the unusual cane technique bothers him so much. Because it seems sloppy. Inconsistent.

"You get around so good,” Matt says, clothing his concern in a compliment. “Do people ever think you’re faking it?”

“Nope,” Stick says shortly. “My eyes look funny. Cataracts. You know what that is?”

“Um. Not really.”

Stick grunts. That’s his version of a shrug, a noise Matt knows means that he’s not interested in explaining further.

He grunts a lot.

::::

Matt is still painfully slow at Grade 2 contracted Braille. It takes him a long time to get through anything, so he also checks out textbooks on tape from the National Library for the Blind – each book is dozens of cassette tapes – and stays up late with his headphones, reading them both ways, over and over. His fingers tingle and his muscles are sore from training, but he is slowly getting better at everything, even if there is no one to notice or care. Matt’s IEP specifies that he should always be seated in the front of the classroom. So he can hear the teacher better? So he can find his seat easier? So someone in charge can always be watching him? He’s not really sure what the rationale is. He feels exposed.

Today, when he gets to pre-algebra, someone is sitting in his reserved seat. Matt knows it’s Brett Mahoney, one of the popular kids. He can smell the wintergreen Altoids Brett is always chewing on. He lets his cane knock into Brett’s foot and the other boy jumps up quickly.

“Oh! Sorry, man. I honestly forgot.” Then, after a pause, “Um, you know you have, like, a nasty cut? On your face?”

“Yeah,” Matt says. “Believe it or not, you are not the first person who has mentioned it. Also, I can feel it. I’m not stupid.”

“OK,” says Brett. “You know it’s bleeding, though, right?”

“It’s bleeding now?” Matt lifts his hand to his brow to check and to his surprise, his fingers come away sticky.

So that’s how Brett ends up escorting him to the nurse’s office.

“What happened, anyway?” Brett asks on the way back. Matt hates having to depend on another middle school boy for sighted lead. He doesn’t want anyone to tease Brett, so he keeps as much space between them as possible, his fingers barely touching Brett’s bicep, but Brett doesn't seem too worried about it. And it’s nice that he isn’t assuming Matt walked into something or fell down, the way the nurse just did.

Obviously he can’t explain about Stick, though. “I was fighting,” he says. It is true.

“Did you win?”

No.”

::::

Is Stick good-looking? It's really hard to guess. He’s old and crotchety, but he could be handsome in a rugged way, Matt thinks. Anything is possible. Clearly some women like him, like Sister Dora, whose pulse picks up when Stick comes to fetch him.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Matt asks him.

Stick ignores the question. “Time for you to get outta here, kid. I got another student coming in 10 minutes.”

Matt feels obscurely jealous. “He’s blind, too?”

“She,” Stick corrects. “No.”

“Huh.” Matt puts the escrima sticks back in their case. “Can she do all the things I can do?”

“She’s much better than you.”

“Does she work harder than me?”

“No. No one does. She’s just better.” He knocks his hand into Matt’s shoulder, a soft blow or a rough pat. “Haven’t I taught you yet that life isn’t fair?”

He didn’t need Stick for that lesson.

::::

Sometimes Matt just walks. He walks east into the anonymous scrum of Times Square and finds his way to Broadway, following it down through Midtown, through Union Square, into the Village and Soho and then Chinatown. It feels good to stretch his legs and the smell of the egg doughnuts from the famous cart makes his mouth water, but all the knockoff perfume shops on Canal exacerbate his perpetual headache. He passes by the arch he remembers and begins to cross the Manhattan Bridge on the footpath. Trains pass on the left with a metal rattle so deep he can feel it in the roots of his teeth.

He doesn’t have a watch, but a subtle drop in temperature tells him that the sun is going down now, the river far below darkening in a way he remembers from outings with his dad when he was a little kid. Halfway across the bridge, he pulls up his hood and stows his folded cane in his backpack. No one here will know he’s supposed to need it.

Downtown Brooklyn roars around him. Cars are getting on and off the BQE. Matt finds his way to the steps that wind down to street level, but he is afraid to stray too far; he doesn’t know these streets at all, and he has no way to reorient himself if he screws up. The river and Manhattan are behind him, he remembers, at his 6:00.

Matt promises he’ll just walk to the next block, recite the Nicene Creed, then turn around, retrace his steps, go back across the bridge the way he came. Return to the orphanage, his neighborhood, his whole life. His blood is beating in his ears. Strangers shove past, taking no notice of him. He’s just a white kid in a hoodie, wearing sunglasses at night. His footsteps are silent without the echoing tap he’s gotten used to.

Turn around, he tells himself. Turn around.

But he keeps walking. He could disappear completely.

Notes:

It's strongly suggested in that Season 3 flashback that that Sister Dora teaches at St. Agnes's and Matt goes to school there, but I think it makes more sense for him and Nico to go to public school, given their accessibility needs.

I love Father Lantom, but I am confused about whether he was around when Matt was a kid, or if they just meet in Season 1, so I left him out.

I'm visually impaired/low vision. If anyone blind reads this, please please please tell me what you think.

[poemtoken]

I love officer Mahoney. genuinely <3