#i started watching daredevil and got caught up in matt entirely for a bit

[ohlovxr]

okay but give us more dark!frank headcanons? like i was thinking what if he starts dating this wealthy bratty girl, in her 20s and one time they are fighting and she calls him ‘old’ and he will probably just smirk and put her over his knee, spank the fuck out of her, edging her and fucking her rough?? and lowkey he would becomes so obsessed with her that he would wanna protect her, maybe to the point where she had bodyguards protecting her but frank would kill them just to be with her bye

i deadass have nothing to add bc this is 😵‍💫😵‍💫

tw ❗️dubcon (not really i think)/murder/kidnapping❗️

part of me sees this happening as a secret relationship between bratty!reader and bodyguard!frank - and i know you said that he’d even kill her bodyguards to be with her but HEAR ME OUT

bc i’m a whore for the whole being captive thing, this made me think up a scenario where you’re caught by one of your other bodyguards. whether it be the way frank smirks to himself when you wince as you sit down for breakfast in the morning, the way frank always, always, has to be the one accompanying you to the dressing room when you go shopping, or the way your attention always seems to stray towards frank in any situation, cheeks flushing when the two of you make eye contact - your other bodyguard catches on.

he doesn’t like frank. frank’s always insisted he worked alone; always insisted to your parents that he could protect you on his own - matter of fact, promised that you’d be safer in his sole protection. but your parents just couldn’t risk it, now could they? your other bodyguard, he’d take any chance to wipe the smug smile off of frank’s face, the one you couldn’t help but love, every time he was right in any aspect of your safety - and frank castle was never wrong.

so, when he puts two and two together, he can’t help but taunt frank. it was the just the three of you, alone in the home. normally, at the thought of a threat, frank would approach the situation carefully, calculated, but there was something about the way your mouth fell open with a gasp. something about the way your eyes were no longer filled with that mischief that he was annoyed to love so much.

it filled him with rage, it really did, and all he wanted to do was bash the man’s head in. so he did. despite the way you pleaded for him to stop, he never did. not until he was dead, no longer a threat to the two of you.

and despite the way you promised him hysterically that it was okay and that the two of you could make it look good, like he really had to kill him, frank decided he couldn’t risk it.

he couldn’t have your parents, or any other fucking bodyguards, take you away from him. he loved you too much for that, and he promised to show you as much when you pleaded with him to just work with you.

and for the first little while when the two of you are on your own, he starts to think maybe everything messed you up. maybe seeing what he did made you cautious of him. maybe, as much as it pained him to think, you didn’t love him anymore because of it, even though he just wanted to keep you safe and happy. but you were so quiet, shrugging him off in a way he knew wasn’t an invitation or an attempt at causing trouble, turning your back to him as you slept, refusing to give into all the things he’d say that’d get you so frustrated that you once tried to slap him and earned a place over his knee instead - he could keep going.

he only starts to feel you come back again, starts to feel whole again, when the two of you fight for the first time since. his heart leaped sickeningly out of his chest as he watched that glint return to your eyes, listened to the way you spoke your words with such a venom, anyone would assume you hated him, asking boldly, “what makes you think i even want to be stuck alone with some old man forever anyways?”

and when he finally has you underneath him again, whining at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls with deep strokes as his body crowded yours and his hand firmly gripped your jaw to keep your bratty mouth shut, he makes sure to remind you about how only he could ever make you feel like this; about how he’s the one who could ever make you feel so dirty and happy and loved.

[pastafossa]

Matt keeps a straigh face while handing Jane an actual rock in front of Foggy who is having a MELTDOWN bc he does this in front of a zoos penguin exhibit

Ok so in between my project (*shakes fist*) this idea was giving me LIFE. Because it is ABSOLUTELY in character for Matt being a sassy little shit, and like OH MY GOD, he would.

You all had just passed the seal exhibit when Matt started to grin. And not the good grin—no. This was the bad grin: a Danger Level 7 on the Matt Shenanigans scale, of which Foggy kept meticulous record. Daredevil-based antics generally categorized as a 9 or a 10, while the pig that Matt had somehow smuggled into the dorm back in college rated about an 8. And to think, he'd claimed he thought it was a dog. Foggy had sensed the stench of bullshit even then, but there'd been no evidence to prove otherwise.

Now he knew better.

You were still a little behind Matt and Foggy, caught up watching the admittedly-adorable harbor seals splash and swim around but you quickly moved on, meandering towards Foggy and Matt. Matt suddenly pulled away from Foggy, and that's when he knew the devious bastard was up to something. The few other zoo guests passing by shifted wider, giving Matt a surprisingly polite amount of space as he tapped his cane. And just like that he put on his best 'innocent, no-super-senses blind man' face—the one with the puppy dog eyes you could feel behind the glasses, the mouth tilted just so, not a smirk or a smile to be found. Foggy narrowed his eyes.

Matt called you over as Foggy hissed out a quiet, "What are you up to, Murdock?!"

Matt shifted his stance a little, the glass of the exhibit now at his back. Foggy still hadn't quite figured out what was in the enclosure but there was a lot of water. Once you were close enough to hear him, Matt reached into his pocket. "I just remembered. I almost tripped on this earlier," he told you, borderline angelic, as if he wasn't in fact a metric ton of audacity in human form. "Too much noise, threw me off. I picked it up but I'm still not quite sure what it is. I just know I didn't want it out where anyone could step on it."

Je-sus, the good Samaritan ploy. Foggy rolled his eyes, muttering a prayer to the heavens. Matt's hand had closed entirely around whatever object it was that he passed to you, scarred knuckles and callused fingers blocking Foggy's view. You carefully took it, your head dropping as you glanced down at it. As you did, Matt lifted his head and directed a quick smirk in Foggy's direction. Behind him, briefly glimpsed through glass and cold water, a black and white shape swooped by.

Holy shit, he wouldn't!

No, no. Not even Matt was this ballsy, this blatant, and Foggy nodded to himself, lifting his giraffe cup to drink from.

"Wow," you murmured, turning whatever it was over in your hand. "I mean, it's a rock, but it's really pretty. Where did you say you found this?"

Foggy spat back into the giraffe's plastic face, choking and coughing. He waved off the passersby who'd paused even as he continued to hack, because holy shit—

"Found it up towards the front," Matt said innocently, which he absolutely was not, not one bit, the bastard—

"Some kid probably dropped it after picking it up in the gift shop. God, it's pretty." You let out a quiet hum, still seemingly entranced by the stone in your hands. Foggy took a step to the right, just enough to get a glance at the rock. And then he had to turn away, wheezing in disbelief because how did Matt pick a red geode?!

"Nothing we can do about it now, kid's probably long gone," you said thoughtfully, and Foggy whirled back around, not willing to miss even a second despite himself.

"You're probably right," Matt said, as another penguin drifted by. This one paused, however, posing behind Matt. Aaand now even the penguin was staring at Foggy mockingly, those fucking macaroni penguins with their sarcastic, dastardly eyebrows.

You tried to hand the rock back, but then Matt shook his head, throwing you a warm smile. "I can't really appreciate it as much as you since I can't see it. Why don't you keep it?"

Foggy made a strangled noise, choking on air as he swallowed down a shriek and oh god, this was it, this was how he died, because Matt Murdock was literally giving you a devilishly-red rock in front of the fucking penguin exhibit. You tentatively drew your hand back, staring down at the stone and turning it over in your hands, and how could you not know?!

And there was a moment, a moment, as your head lifted and you caught sight of the penguin swimming by, that Foggy thought, Aha! Yes, you've got it! You'd realize, wouldn't you? You had to, and then-then Foggy wouldn't be alone seeing the sheer shamelessness in Matt offering you an actual rock in front of penguins when penguins courted with rocks, right?! You tilted your head, eyes flicking between Matt and the penguins as you considered them both. "Do you know where we are right now?" you asked slowly.

Matt shrugged, giving you a baffled look. "The... grizzly exhibit hit me a little hard, and there's a lot of noise. I can smell water at least. Are we near the seals?"

No, no, Foggy did not buy that for a goddamned second, but apparently you did because you gave a little snort and shoved the geode into your pocket before holding out an arm to Matt. He gently took hold and then his face turned towards Foggy over your head, and his smirk turned absolutely shit-eating.

"Fuck you, Murdock!" Foggy whispered as emphatically as he could, resisting the urge to flip Matt off when there were children present. "You insane, rock-gifting, hellspawn of a penguin!"

"Language, sir!"

"Sorry, ma'am."

[obwjam]

thoughts on giant matt murdock?

funny you ask... a couple summers ago i actually started writing a little blurb about this that never really came to fruition that i am going to include under the cut ☺️☺️☺️ and i haven’t watched TV marvel in over a year now but:

giant matt would totally be a huge bitch to any tiny he discovered

the tiny would have been doing things seemingly under his nose but matt would sense it every time

soon he would feel the tiny’s fear and soften up

he would be intentionally aloof but he would also leave out food for the tiny. kind of an unspoken friendship

the tiny would just accept this and not question it

matt would hide the fact that he’s daredevil even from the tiny but one day he comes home just absolutely wrecked and the tiny is very scared and concerned

the tiny tries to help the best they can and it doesnt do much but matt is appreciative :)

now enjoy the blurb!

You considered yourself lucky.

You felt bad saying that, too. But most borrowers have to tiptoe around the human they live with, only going out in the wee hours of the morning just to get by. You didn’t have to deal with that. The human you lived with was blind.

It was a borrower’s dream. No need to hide, no need to leave things exactly how you found them. You could stand on the counter with the human while he cooked and take pieces of fresh food right under his nose and he’d never even know! As long as you didn’t make a lot of noise, you were safe.

You had been living here for a while. Your last place was blown to bits. Hell’s Kitchen was not the safest place to be, and you found that out the hard way. But you struck gold wandering into this place. It took a few days to figure out the human was blind, and that was only because you thought he had left for the day but he was actually just in the shower. He looked right at you on the counter but kept walking to his room, completely unaware of your presence. From then on, you… others would say you pushed your luck, but you liked to say you were taking advantage of your situation. You drank hot tea. You ate fresh fruit. You would even climb up onto the couch and listen to the radio with the human. You were bummed you couldn’t watch TV, but you were pretty sure he didn’t even own one. You hung out so closely with the human that sometimes you felt like you were really friends; that you really knew him.

You were out one day, borrowing while the human was lounging around on the couch. You were trying to push something across the counter to make a stepping-stone of sorts to some supplies, but you pushed too hard and the ceramic made an awfully loud screeeeeeeeench across the counter. The human’s head whipped around, his blank eyes staring directly at you. You froze in place, chest heaving, reminding yourself that he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t--

“You’ve really been pushing it lately, you know.”

Your breath hitched and you let a small YIP! escape your lips. Surely he wasn’t actually talking to you. Maybe he was just monologuing to himself. You stepped away from the ceramic and slowly started to tiptoe back to your hole in the wall.

“I’ve stopped myself from saying anything before, but it’s really been getting out of hand, don’t you think?”

It was like your legs forgot how to move. You stood there, a feeling of deep sickness entering your stomach. The human slowly got up and started walking right toward you.

“I mean, I don’t really mind when you listen to the radio with me and stuff like that. But, really, when you start to--”

He stopped just a few feet away. Matt Murdock was now staring directly at you, and while he’d been this close to you before, he never really focused on you all that much. He had heard the tiny heartbeat in his walls since the moment you moved in, but he didn’t think anything of it. He was shocked to learn about the existence of tiny humans, but considering midtown was recently leveled by an alien attack, things like this weren’t all that crazy anymore. You never really did much damage -- he understood that you were just trying to get by.

But now, with his full attention on you, the pace of your heartbeat and the shakiness of your breath scared him. He had never felt such an intense level of fear before. He could hear you breathing so heavily and so rapidly he thought you were going to pass out.

The human began to reach his hand out, and your trance was broken. You took off for the wall, but suddenly you were lying face down on the ground, head throbbing in pain. Something just got in your way.

Matt hummed sympathetically at the way you so helplessly fell down when you hit his hand, but he had to remind himself how rude you were getting. Slowly, he pinched your torso between his fingers and dropped you into his palm.

As soon as you landed on this unfamiliar surface, you tried to find a way off. But he lifted his hand up to eye level, for whatever reason, and jumping was no longer an option. You had to face him. Somehow, his face was painted with wonder, even though he couldn’t see you… or could he?

“H-how-how did you know I was--I was even here? You can’t-- you’re…”

Matt scoffed. “You don’t need sight to see.”

You raised your eyebrow, but the logistics weren’t important to you. All this time… he knew you were here, knew you were borrowing right under his nose… he was pissed. He was definitely pissed.

“P-please… don’t--don’t put me in a jar, I--I promise I won’t-- I’ll never steal from you again! I’ll move away! Please! Just--just don’t hurt me!”

Your fear was so intense that Matt was starting to feel some of it himself. The more intense your shaking became, the more his heartbeat climbed. He almost felt like his entire body was going to rattle with you. And he was starting to sweat… this little guy was absolutely terrified.

“I’m… I won’t hurt you,” Matt said, but he knew his words meant nothing. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he caught you, but he probably should have considered the high likelihood of crippling fear on your end. Matt was used to people being scared of him, but this… this was completely different.

Tears began leaking out of your eyes, and you felt so pathetic. All the times you had walked around right under his nose… he was just pretending not to see you. He knew everything you ever took, everything you ever touched.

“How long were you going to keep taking things from me?” Matt asked out of pure curiosity. He realized after the fact how angry he sounded.

Your words got caught in your throat. “I--I--uh--I mean… as long as I could…” you said that last part so softly that no normal human would have been able to hear you. “B-but I can give you your stuff back! Not the food, obviously, but-but whatever you need, I--I can--”

Matt chuckled. He knew it wasn’t an appropriate response, but he couldn’t help but find the whole situation a bit funny.

“No, no, you don’t have to give my stuff back. I don’t care about missing paper clips and shoe laces,” he said with a laugh.

“Wh… what do you want with me then?”

Matt paused. Honestly, he had caught you because he was pissed. But after getting a sense of you, he didn’t have it in him to keep being nasty.

“I want you to be honest with me. No more taking my food while I’m in the middle of cooking. I can leave some stuff out for you.”

Your jaw was quivering. What were you supposed to say to that?

lol and that’s as far as i ever got

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.6

The Closure

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2750

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Two weeks after the mission, things are getting back to normal. Except they aren’t, not really.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and injury, tooth-rotting fluff and light angst

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

Steve Rogers was a lucky man.

You knew that wasn’t entirely true, but momentarily, you envied him enormously. The serum kicked in and within two days, he was perfectly fine, if not a little out of shape. You, on the other hand, were still healing like the regular human being you were, being lucky enough to have your stitches removed after only six days. Of course, something hurt all the time.

Yet, there was a bright side; when Steve had visited your hospital room the day of his release and heard you whining about lying in a hospital alone, he had convinced everyone you had been good to go, he would take care of you and he would make sure you would rest. He hadn’t been lying (because he was always honest); the workout he had started with when returning to the tower had been body-lifting. Your body-lifting to be precise. You had laughed so hard as he had carried you to your room that you had almost pulled some of your stitches. He was the sweetest guy to ever walk the Earth. And a very handsome nurse.

You believed that being in the company of your friends slash family helped you heal faster too. A little over a week after your release, you were heading to the gym for the first time, Steve by your side. He seemed tired, which meant something, coming from you.

“You sure you should be getting back into your full training mode, Steve? I mean-“ you started, only to be cut off by his slightly amused smile.

“Sounds rich coming from you.”

“Touché. But seriously, I’m just starting and you-“ He stopped in his tracks, his hand covering your bare arm, his thumb caressing the skin.

“Snowflake, stop worrying about me,” he demanded, his voice too soft for you to take it as an order. You didn’t quite believe him anyway – you suspected he liked when you were worried about him, proving that you cared, just like you liked when he did.

“I demand an easier task, Captain.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Request denied, soldier.”

“Go to hell, Rogers.”

“Language.”

It made you burst out laughing – the note with his eyebrows raised suggestively, knowing exactly what he would cause. “Oh, you’re definitely better, okay. Let’s go punch something.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

To your surprise, punching sent your thoughts to places you not only hadn’t seen coming, but also hated. Your body remembered the last time you were hitting something – or someone. Your mind wandered to the mission and the outcome, and given the fact Steve was living and kicking just few feet from you, your mind got occupied with another man who had been present. The man in the Devil suit.

You hadn’t talk to Matt ever since you had… practically kicked him out of your hospital room, where he had apparently spent about four days straight, waiting for you to wake up. He hadn’t visited again and it made your insides twist in guilt. Because he had been nice and supportive and while he might have made a decision for you, it had been a perfectly valid one. He had been just trying to protect you from sabotaging your own body and your only response to that had been being an utter bitch.

“You should talk to him, you know,” Steve hummed after you placed particularly powerful hook to the punching bag. You were definitely pushing yourself. You didn’t care. The lying around and doing nothing thing had become old very quickly. Even with Steve carrying you.

“To whom?” you played dumb, placing another blow, mindful of not going with your full strength.

“Frosty.”

“Steve.”

“You know, they told me what he did. I’m gonna talk to him for sure. He played a big part in saving my life by keeping you calm and focused. ”

You punched the bag with unnecessary force again. You knew that. You also knew you had been an ass and the man had been just trying to save your life and you had been dramatic. You also knew you would feel very differently if the outcome would be worse for Steve, but it wasn’t and now you were truly embarrassed about walking out on Matt and barely looking back.

“And he kept you alive. That’s not something I take lightly.”

You met Steve’s genuine eyes, disturbed and caring gaze watching your face closely. You would drown in the sea of blue; and for some reason, you were slowly realizing that you wanted to find out if maybe you could drown in brown pools with golden edges too. Which was making things even worse.

You hit the bag again. “It wasn’t his call. He didn’t have the right-“

“He’s a vigilante, Frosty. He was trying to save your life. He’s a hero. How could you expect anything less from him?”

“Wasn’t. His. Call,” you repeated like a broken record, hiding the tears of shame. Steve caught your wrists, reading you like an open book.

You looked up, pressing your lips together to bury the flood of emotions. Embarrassment. Anger. Sympathy. Gratitude. Fear. God, still so much fear of what could have happened.

You gave in as Steve’s strong arms pulled you against his warm chest, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. You didn’t care you were sweaty, just hoping he didn’t mind either and you buried your face into his t-shirt. He cradled your tangled bodies lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

“Hey, hey, I got you…. You did it, you saved me, shh… we’re okay.”

Of course he knew exactly where your had thoughts gone. You sobbed like a freaking child, only to be rewarded by him squeezing you tighter, his big hand caressing your back in soothing motions.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your embarrassment reaching a new level.

It wasn’t the first time you were crying in front of Steve – god no, this was the guy who had found you freaked out by your powers more than once as well as the good friend who handed you a handkerchief when you got ridiculously emotional about a movie –, but in the past few days, you were being just pathetic.

His body shook with shushed gentle laughter. “Nothing to be sorry about, Snowflake. That’s why I’m here.”

“To be my shoulder to cry on? Wow, you really got the worst job ever.”

He retreated a little and you barely supressed a whine when he did so. You received a kiss to your forehead instead though, your eyes falling shut at the tender gesture, tears escaping from under your eyelids.

“I can be your shoulder to cry on if that’s what you need at the moment. I’m here for you, okay?”

Your heart fluttered at that, melting in a way you almost forgot was possible. You wrapped your arms around him properly, hugging him as tightly as you managed, wishing to just merge with him. He let out a surprised huff, but his hand rubbed your back again.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course.”

You stood in the embrace for what could be seconds or minutes as well as hours. You weren’t in a rush to end it or break the silence, but in the end, it was you.

“I don’t want to talk to him. I’m— I’m ashamed,” you admitted tentatively, loosening the hug and finally letting Steve breathe in.

“I know, Snowflake. But you can’t avoid him forever.”

“Watch me.”

He chuckled, his chest shaking with the quiet sound. “You want me to escort you?”

“God, no. That would make me not only a bitch, but also a coward.”

“Language.”

“Oh, shut up, Steve,” you let go of him completely in favour to smack his arm.

“He stayed in the hospital to be sure you would make it. You should pay him a visit.”

“I know. Can we drop it now, please? I promise I’ll go see him.”

Someday, you added mentally.

────── ·❆· ──────

You went at night. It only made sense, because you didn’t want to stalk Matt via Tony’s database to find him and confront him in his home or God forbid, his work place, wherever that was. You were nervous like a student getting called into the director’s office, trying to convince yourself that the sooner you would be over with it the better.

Daredevil was relatively easy to find – Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t really that big. Plus, he was hanging around rather shady places.

“Thought you didn’t want to see me,” he greeted you flatly and you honestly wanted to spin on your heels and run.

You felt like your heart was in your throat instead of your chest. It was really hard to talk.

“You’re right, I probably don’t, good talk,” you exclaimed, spinning on your heels to complete your plan of escape. Stupid, stupid, why were you even here-

“Wait! Wait, I’m sorry, that was mean-“

You tilted your head back, facing the sky and whimpered. That was even worse than him being hostile. You turned to him once again, coming a little closer. A small curious smile played on his lips.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Matt. I really hope you know that, because if I actually did make you feel guilty for doing what you did, I’m officially Queen B.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. He titled his head to side, looking a bit confused. “Queen B?”

“Queen Bitch. Crowned Bitch. The Original Mean Girl. Take your pick,” you supplied helpfully and this time it was him who shortened the distance, now standing only two steps from you.

“You’re not… that.”

“I really am, Matt. I’m sorry. I was being incredibly mean to you and all you did was being helpful, having my back, making sure I wouldn’t die and then you apparently guarded my bedside for days. It’s… thank you for that. And I’m really sorry. I know I don’t deserve you to even accept the apology, but-“

“I forgive you,” he pronounced with a soft smile and you stopped in the middle of your speech, too shocked to continue or even remember what you were saying.

“What?”

His smile grew wider. “I forgive you. I understand. You were worried, you were in pain and I know I crossed a line I probably didn’t have the right to cross. It was just… I couldn’t let you die – and if I’m being honest, I should have stopped you sooner, but you seemed so desperate to help him…”

You licked your lips, suddenly feeling even worse. Great. Now he also blamed himself for letting things go so far. As if it was his fault. Jesus.

“Wow, I really need to stop hanging out around people who carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.”

Daredevil chuckled, hesitantly taking your wrist. “That would be a shame.”

You almost had a heart attack, remembering how tactile he had been during the mission – especially during Steve’s stabilization. Had it been for your sake or his own?

“Are you always this tactile?”

The question left you mouth without consulting with your brain. You instantly wanted to take it back, especially when he retreated his hand – you caught it with your own. The action baffled him.

“I… I’m just curious. Sorry. I was wondering if it was a thing, because… because… I’m sorry, there’s really no subtle way to say it, because of your blindness? ‘Cause I was wondering a lot, okay? I had plenty of time to process the fact Daredevil was blind and I can’t really say I wrapped my head around it,” you admitted and his fingers caressed your wrist again.

“There’s really not much to wonder about. It is what it is. And you don’t need to… try to figure out a way of watching your tongue around me. I’m not sensitive about the matter – I had enough time to adjust and I’m actually not too happy with people who are treating me like glass.”

“Well… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… yeah. How does that work?”

He shrugged as if it was nothing, as if it was perfectly normal for a blind person to be a freaking ninja vigilante. “Everything else is so amplified that I have a mental picture precise enough to do what I do. I still need a braille reader for work, because reading regular prints is too hard and few more things, but… I go by.”

You stared at him, amazed. “That’s incredible. What… what do you for living?”

He smirked. “Lawyer.”

You burst out laughing. “No. No way! You’re pulling my leg! You are a lawyer and a vigilante? Isn’t that-“

“Ironic? Not really. What the law can’t do, the vigilante can.”

“…that’s a fair point actually. I can see why you are a lawyer.”

The smile that had appeared a while ago hadn’t disappeared since. You felt its warmth washing over you. Your breath hitched when his free hand followed his right one, both of them enclosing yours.

“As for one of your previous questions… no. Not really. I’m very sensitive to touch and trust me, taking a subway in the morning can be much worse than you already think it is. But… with Foggy and Karen – those are my closest friends – it’s okay. I am pretty tactile with people I like,” he lowered his voice and your heart started pounding at that.

Did he just… did he-?

“Oh.”

“That okay?” he asked almost shyly and you found yourself wishing to take off that stupid helmet of his and examine his expression.

Was it okay?

“Yeah. Yeah, I would say it’s pretty okay, Matt.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter.

“Okay enough for me to ask you to dinner?”

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you looked like an idiot, but that was a piece of information stuffed in the darkest corner of your mind now.

Matt just asked you out. Matt, Daredevil, the very same man you had been an actual Queen B around, liked you and asked you out.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s okay to say no.”

You shook you head, snapping from your shock.

“No! I mean— yes. I-“ you let out an incredulous laugh, covering one of his hands with your free one. “Yes. It’s just… did you hit your head? Did I hit your head when on the jet? Because… I was… really awful to you, Matt-“

“You weren’t at your best, I’m not gonna lie-“

You laughed again, taken aback by the blunt note, but not actually offended, because it was the truth. “Is that so? Wow, Matt, smooth, you know how to get the girl fall for you…”

He pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Is it working?” he teased you and you just giggled at the ridiculous situation you were taking part in. “What I mean is that you weren’t at your best and I still kinda liked you. I would be really happy to know the girl behind Frostbite’s mask better, hopefully when she’s not stressed enough to get a heart attack any second.”

And just like that, the laughter in your throat softened and you melted. Yeah, okay. That actually was pretty smooth. When he held out an old phone in your direction, you entered your number without hesitation.

“You’re free on Friday night?”

“Yep. I should be,” you agreed, returning the phone. He slipped it back into his pocket with silent thanks.

“Great. I’ll text you the details.”

“Good. Looking forward to it…. You should probably come back to patrolling your streets, huh? Sorry to keep you.”

“Are you joking? This was the best patrol night I had in a very long time,” he said warmly, but took several steps back. “Wanna join me?”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you started walking backwards too. “Nope. I’m still not in a top shape – I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Really? Am I that special?”

“Hey, don’t get too full of yourself! I can still change my mind about Friday!”

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but he was still grinning. “Please don’t.”

“I’ll see,” you called after him and began to create your path home. You waved at him the last time, hoping he could perceive it with his senses and then your ways separated.

You were leaving with one single thought.

Shit. I have a date.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 7

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags:  @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek

You want in, send me an ask/a message, you want out, do the same, yada, yada.... I’ll be happy to hear from you :-*

[edourado]

Hungry

Oh, Kastle.

This is for my fiery red @theserpentgod​, who tagged me on this post by @nxtyourfirstrodeo  and requested a fic from this simple, but very interesting and suggestive gifset. Also inspired by this one, because I could not help myself. 

It is, also, a second attempt at the “skin hungry” prompt by @primarybufferpanel. I already delivered that one (here) but I’ve always felt like the “skin hungry” element was a little lacking. So this is me trying again. 

This is shorter than usual, since I wanted to deliver it quickly. But, for those of you who like longer, lenghtier smutty Kastle, don’t worry. Some of that is coming. 

This is immediatelly after the events of Never Had. You don’t HAVE to read it, but, you know. Couldn’t hurt ;-)

Much love ;*

She wakes up worried about him.

He insisted on sleeping on the couch, refusing even the possibility of her giving up her bed for him, even all injured and bruised as he was.

Before her alarm goes off, she sits up and smiles, inhaling the smell of fresh coffee.

Sure enough, he is standing there, moving around her kitchen with a familiarity she couldn’t claim to have herself - he knew where all her pots and pans and glasses and plates went. She, sometimes, got confused in the mess.

“Good morning”, she says, and it’s almost a question.

“Mornin’”, he replies, voice gruff and deep. Probably the first word he said after waking up. She picks up the mug he gives her, wondering how many people could claim the Punisher knows how they take their coffee.

“How did you sleep?”she asks after taking a sip, wondering where he had found not only a waffle maker, but the ingredients to make them.

“Good enough.”

Soon, he is putting two waffles in two plates and moving to the small table, motioning for her to join him with his head.

“Let me see”, she asks when they sit and he lets her touch his face, inspecting the wounds the grazing bullets left on his cheek last night. It’s red and angry. Karen sighs, remembering what it felt like to lie on the floor, Matt holding her, stopping her from going to him, probably saving her from getting herself killed.

“You’re not going out today, right?” she asks, dropping her hand, letting him eat, picking up her own fork.

Frank gives her a look. It’s not angry, but it’s definitely annoyed. He knows he has to stay put, at least until they manage to get an advantage. Liking it, though, it’s a different story.

“I can bring you something from the street”, she offers, eating the very good waffle he made her. “Do you want anything?”

Again, he fixes her with a look, but this one is different. It’s one of those, that make her blush and curl her toes. Even if she wants to look away - it’s too intense, that stare, he might as well be reading all of her thoughts - she holds it, even dares a tiny smile.

“Don’t know. Burger, maybe?”

She blinks and raises her brows.

“Junk food? That’s a first.”

“I dodged three bullets last night. Figure I earned it.”

“Indeed you have”, she says, smiling too much, tone it down, geez, she reprimands herself. “Burger it is. Fries?”

“With bacon.”

“Of course.”

“You got work today?” he asks after a few seconds of silence. She nods and is surprised when he makes a face. It’s only for a second, maybe even less than that, but he pouts. It’s gone in a flash when he takes another bite of his waffle. She is the one that stares this time, and she keeps staring until he motions to her mug.

“Drink your coffee.”

It’s strong and bitter, but he knows she takes it with one sugar, so there’s a faint sweetness to it.

Karen is reluctant to get up and go to work. She likes it when he’s here. She feels safe, and it’s early in the morning, so the city is not yet so loud, the light is golden through her curtains, the smell of coffee and the silence and the light and the stares make her want to stay. He makes her want to stay.

Alas, she has to go. It doesn’t take too long for her phone to start pinging, messages coming in, demanding her attention.

“Go”,  he says when she gets a call. “I’ll do the dishes.”

She’s talking to Trish on the phone, strategizing, coming up with meetings that were supposed to be about money laundering, but is actually about opening doors for the vigilantes in their lives.

His towel is hanging beside hers in the bathroom, the first aid kit (which stopped being “first aid” a long while ago) is on the sink. When she opens the cabinet, she sees the deodorant he forgot there once and now just lived here, along with shaving cream and her own products. His disposable toothbrush that was supposed to have been disposed already is sitting there next to her slightly fancier one.

The steam of her shower was still fogging up the bathroom, so there was no reasonable explanation for the chill that ran down her back at the sight of his shirt in the hamper. It was, she would have to admit, just the thought of having him here so regularly, occupying her space, making it look like…

Sighing, she smothers those thoughts, shaking her head, promising herself she would dwell on them once he was gone, even if she shouldn’t.

She was almost ready to go when Trish calls her again, asking for some files they had dug up weeks ago, that might have pertinent information.

“Yes, I got it here”, she answers, distracted for a moment with the work. “Tell me the numbers again.”

They are both excited about their new discovery - a technicality that would make Jessica’s and Matt’s work much easier, speeding the whole thing up.

“What are you gonna tell Ellison?” Trish is asking, but she’s distracted again.

Frank is standing in front of the kitchen sink, doing the dishes. It’s a simple enough image, except his shirt is very… Fitted. She can see the muscles of his back and shoulders, the defined lines of them before the fabric gets loose again around his waist. His pants are not so tight, but they rest low on his hips. He put the dish rag on his back pocket.

Karen swallows some extra saliva that suddenly pooled in her mouth and shakes her head, to try and remove that image. She does not need to be thinking about that the entire day.

“Ok, I’m out”, she announces and he looks behind him while she walks to the door, purse on her shoulder, briefcase full of files on her hand.

“You be careful”, he says in that voice of his and she would pray for him to stop sounding like that, except she likes it too much.

With a smile his way, she goes, gets out of that apartment because, honestly, she needs some air.

She is wondering how is she going to survive having him for a roommate without melting into a pile of wanton bones when Trish arrives for their meeting.

“So”, she asks after everything is dealt with and they stop for coffee on their way back to their own offices. “How’s… Francis?”

With a sigh, Karen thinks about lying. Saying it’s fine, it’s going good, telling her about his health and how he’s doing after being shot at.

But, in all honesty, she is tired of this. She can’t talk to Matt about stuff like that - God, she can’t even imagine that -, nor to Foggy, poor thing has enough on his plate dealing with his best friend being Daredevil, she doesn’t think he could handle her feelings for the Punisher.

She needs someone. A friend, someone that understands her and won’t judge the crazy things going through her mind, her heart and her body.

She figures Trish fits that description perfectly.

“He’s… Present.”

Trish squints.

“Like…”

“Yeah”. They both take a sip of their coffees. “He occupies to whole place. Even when he’s not there, does that make sense?”

“Oh yeah.”

“And I swear, I’m about to… I don’t know, I might be going crazy.”

“Listen. I’m not very familiar with him, only met the guy twice. But hey. I get you. I really do.”

Karen is feeling a bit better when she gets home again, holding a bag with his burger and fries. Talking to Trish really was the best decision. They laughed and they speculated and imagined and wondered.

Closing and locking the door behind her, she looks around for him. When she doesn’t find him, she moves to place her things on the coffee table.

He was in the bathroom, and Karen finds herself mute at the sight of him again.

The door was cracked open, she imagined to let the steam of the shower out. He was standing shirtless in front of the mirror, hands on the sink, the muscles of his arms bare and evident.

She’s just done mentally shaking herself again, to try and clear up her mind, when he looks her way and their eyes meet.

His body is what caught her attention. His eyes were the ones that caught hers. But it’s the big bruise on his chest that makes her gasp.

Before she can even think about it, she’s there, pushing the bathroom door open and he’s telling her it could be worse. Her face must betray her concern.

“Was this from that gun you told me about?”

“Probably”, he says, looking at his reflection in the mirror, and Karen leans against the counter, not able to take her eyes from the big purple bruise, sickly looking, a little under and to the right of his heart.

“I saw when it hit you”, she says while he runs a big wad of cotton over it, cleaning the scrapes left behind by his vest. “And then the ones on your face, I thought-”

She interrupts herself, not wishing to dwell on what she felt when she saw him fall, unconscious.

“I’m glad Red held you back”, he says, cringing when the antiseptic stings him.

“Yeah”, she agrees, taking the cotton from his hand, taking over in cleaning the scratches. “Me too.”

He winces when she presses a little harder than he had been, his hand closing around the edge of the counter.

“Sorry, sorry.”

She is focused on not hurting him, but being thorough, so she doesn’t immediately notice him watching her. When she raises her eyes and lets them wander around him, looking for more things to fix, she sees it.

And then she notices he’s really close. Really close. She is standing on the space between him and the sink, where she leans, and he is close enough that she sees his pupils dilate and contract.

Karen holds his gaze again, for a moment longer, and then looks down to prepare another wad of cotton to clean the wounds on his face.

He shuts his eyes tight when she touches the embedded cotton on his face and it’s like she can feel it herself. Holding her breath, she keeps it there, but leans closer to him, placing a kiss on his other cheek, free hand on his neck, trying to soothe.

It’s just meant to soothe, both of them. His bruises and her memory, to comfort both of them, and she meant to stay only a second, but the hand that gripped the counter raises and lands on her back, keeping her where she is.

She can’t see what she’s doing like that. She needs to lean back and look to know where to clean, where to press, where to be gentler. But he doesn’t let go of her. So she doesn’t move from there. She can feel his breath on her shoulder, and that shiver is back, running up and down her body when he closes his hand around the fabric of her blouse, face moving to the left towards hers and his lips land on her neck.

Her own eyes fall closed when he drags them a little, almost as if getting himself acquainted with that part of her, before his hand, still balled in a fist and holding her blouse on her back, presses her closer to him and he lifts his face until he has his mouth right on that spot under her ear, on her jaw, and she’s breathing heavily, right hand gripping his shoulder while the right one lets go of the cotton to sneak to the back of his head, slipping down his back when he lifts his head to catch her mouth with his.

There is a monster inside her stomach that threatens to consume her when he touches his tongue to hers, letting out some sort of growl that has her toes curling all over again.

He is fully pressed against her, now, both arms around her, pulling her blouse from inside her skirt, kissing her dizzy, and she’s trying to hold on to him, sighing to the ceiling when he lets go of her mouth in favor of her neck again, this time sucking on skin, pulling it through his teeth and she doesn’t care in the least that that is definitely gonna leave a mark. Let him do it, as many as he wants, she doesn’t care, she wants all of them.

Suddenly, he’s pulling back to pull her blouse over her head and she gets a glimpse of his face - serious as ever, with a hint of desperation that made that monster inside her purr with pride and possession.

Frank throws the article behind him without a thought and moved back in, his hands on her face, one thumb pulling on her lower lip, the other swiping over one of her eyes before he slides them up, weaving in her hair, pulling a bit to make her offer her neck to him and she grips his biceps when his mouth meets her skin again, lips and teeth and tongue. She loves it, maybe she loves it too much, letting go of his arms to support her hands on the sink, head tumbling back for him, one of his hands still on her hair while the other slides down her back.

He’s kissing her again, charged, full of that thing he has been hinting with his stares, with that way he looked at her lately.

It’s also full of something she never felt before in a kiss. His mouth and his tongue and his hands, he touches and kisses her like she’s water and he’s parched.

Like he’s hungry.    

She feels like she’s his already. Feels like he’s hers, the sounds he makes might as well be his surrendering.

Karen lifts her left hand to hold him by his shoulder when he finds the zipper of her skirt on her back. Her right hands runs the length of his arm, from his wrist to his shoulder and then down his back, those muscles she was admiring that morning taut and solid under her palm.

He lowers the zipper on her skirt and nips on she lobe of her ear. She yelps, surprised, when he lifts her skirt and pulls it over her head too, instead of lowering it down her legs like she expected. Maybe the laughter she lets out is a little nervous, since this is really happening, she really is standing here in her bathroom with him, just in her underwear.

It’s worth it, because he smiles too, throwing it back like he did with her top, such an open smile, and silences her laughter with another kiss, sneaking his arms around her, and hers are around him, she’s careful not to touch the wounds on his face, trying to commit the feel of him to memory, his solid body against hers, how small she feels inside his arms, that monster inside her purring at his kisses, at his hands, the way he grips her bottom before lifting her.

She’s sure he’s going to sit her on the counter, she’s fine with it, whatever he wants, she can’t think of anything she would deny him right now. She lets go of him with her left hand to support her weight on the cold counter, but once he has a hold of her, hands on her thighs and her right arm around his shoulder, he turns around and presses her against the door.

Only he doesn’t want the door. With his tongue sliding around hers, he takes a step back, bangs the door shut and then another step forward, pressing her to the wall. The tiles are cold against her skin, and she glides because of the steam of his shower, still making the bathroom warmer than it should be in the early days of fall.

And then he slows down. She can feel all of him, her skin is vibrating because of it, it’s her turn to press his skin between her teeth, and he sighs in her ear, one big hand exploring her leg while the other remains tight and still on her thigh, making sure she doesn’t budge from the spot he has her.

She can feel his hesitation in the way his hand finally leaves it’s spot and rises to her head, caressing her hair. It’s full of care, it’s tender and it’s wondering.

She doesn’t want him to wonder, not right now, she needs him to be sure, as sure as she is, so Karen makes him look at her, catches his eyes for a moment, trying to tell him, trying to make him see.

Her lips on his are soft at first, because she understands, she really does, what this might mean for him, so she is willing to slow down a bit, just to make sure.

Frank seems to understand it, because the hand on her hair is no longer soft. He’s pressing her mouth to his again, opening his up and sliding his tongue against hers one more time, sensually again, hungry again, moaning again.

Just to make sure, she redirects the hand on her waist to her back, leaning off the wall, relying on him for balance, placing his fingers on the hook of her bra and he is quick to respond, unhooking it in a second, pulling the thing off her, mouth lower again, hand pressing so good, and her eyes are closed, enjoying it while her own hand slides from his back, stopping on his neck for a second, around and down his chest, careful around his wound, landing on the waist of his pants, undoing them, wincing when he bites on a big chunk of her skin as she grips him, that growling making her feel powerful, mellow and pliable, putty in his hands.

Her moan echoes on the tiles of her tiny bathroom when he sinks into her after tugging and pulling on her underwear, probably ruining it, and she bites her lip to keep them in, because she doesn’t trust the walls, doesn’t trust her neighbors, doesn’t trust herself.

He moves deliciously, amazingly, just right, perfect, and Karen tightens her legs around him, nails sinking on his shoulder and fingers gripping his hair, half aware of his breath against her ear, lips on flesh, tongue coming out to taste the salt of her skin, hips thrusting so good.

She hears his name leave her lips, and he hums his response, both hands exploring now, touching what they can of her breasts, since they’re tightly pressed against his chest, lowering and gripping her legs, adjusting them like this and that, left hand finding her right one, fingers intertwining, and he moves both his arm and hers behind her back, making her arch against him, she wants to cry at how good it feels, and it comes out strangled, because she’s still biting on her own lower lip, but his thumb is there to pull it free, and she finds herself wrapping her tongue around his finger, sucking it inside her mouth when he touches her lips, and his teeth are pressing again, there at the base of her neck, biting and sucking, moving within her so good, so good she thinks she might fly right out of her body.

When he licks a path from one side of her neck to the other, she lets her head fall against the wall, right hand still tight around his on her back, the left one in his hair.

While he moves, his mouth makes it’s way up her neck, and she moves to kiss him again, she can’t get enough of kissing him.

He has his lips on her cheek when she opens her eyes and sees their reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her legs are tight around him, the muscles on his back are taut and shifting while he moves.

The vision of Frank pressing her against the wall like that is not something she’s gonna forget so soon, and she keeps watching, watching as he moves, as he plants his mouth wherever he can reach, left arm around her while his right one holds her under her knee, the hold almost a leverage for his thrusts, long and measured and hard, her throat is dry, she reaches a hand to hold him, the reflection of her fingers on his back and her legs around his waist and his grunts in her ear making her want more it it, more of it all, his chest against her, his skin is hot, feverish, she slides against him, both of them sweating, she needs more, more, more, more of him, she can’t get enough.

Karen stretches the leg he’s not holding, and it’s a small bathroom. Her right foot finds leverage on the sink, and she pushes against it, creating some resistance against him.

Frank lets go of her hand behind her back to pull on the roots of her hair again, speeding up, sending electrical shocks through her. Next, he lets go of her leg, but she keeps it there, and hugs her waist, pressing her to him further, she can barely move, he has her arched and twisted against him, but she loves it, closes her eyes again, arms around him, nails on his skin because she’s about to explode, she needs to hold on to something, God, please don’t let him stop, don’t ever let him stop.

She’s barely aware of her cries bouncing off the walls when she sees white and her body goes limp against him. Frank is kissing her when he steps back, carrying her away from the wall.

Next thing she knows, she’s lying on her bed, his hands are all over her, so is his mouth, soothing, kissing, caressing, nipping, pressing and licking, she’s shivering. But then his mouth is on hers again, he’s bending her leg, he’s on top of her, fuck, there he is, again, slower, she’s sensitive, but he’s so warm, it’s so good.

“Again”, he says in her ear, and she doesn’t even know what he means, but her body does, apparently, because she’s vibrating again, hands tight on whatever part she can find of him, responding to that hand he sneaked between them, how does he know to do that?

“Open your eyes”, he says, locking her leg around his hip and she does, sees him there above her, looks straight in his eyes, and he is inspecting her face, moving, moving, faster now, there’s a drop of sweat running from his brow down the side of his face and she reaches to pick it up.

Frank closes his own eyes and leans into her touch, removing his hand from between them and she whines, because she misses it immediately, but he’s speeding up, his thrusts are harder and he kisses her silent.

“One more time for me, c’mon”.

She opens her mouth to his kiss and he picks her hands up, pressing so hard she can’t even close her fingers around his, and pins them over her head on the mattress. Karen is about to ask him to let her touch him when he lets go, preferring to run his own hands around her body, and she holds him, bringing his mouth back to hers while he pushes her over that precipice again.

His head is resting on her chest and her fingers are roaming around his back, both of their breathing back under control, but their bodies still warm and slick with sweat, when she remembers his dinner.

“I got that burger for you”, she offers, realizing she’s thirsty, her throat is dry, and he shakes with quiet laughter, placing a kiss on her collarbone and turning them until they’re lying on their sides, and the look on his face is so self satisfied she almost laughs.

“I’ll order another one”, he says, nose bumping against hers sweetly. “I’m starving.”

He gets up to do just that, pressing kisses on her before going, and she walks towards the bathroom to take a shower.

Her reflection shows her all the spots he pressed and kissed and sucked and bit, and she can’t help but feel good at the sight, as shocking as it is.

She is rinsing shampoo from her hair when he walks in, and they kiss under the warm spray of the shower.

Karen falls asleep against his chest, tired and sore and so satisfied it should be illegal. Well, he’s the Punisher. It is a little illegal.

[litrapod]

I love superheroes and I love to hear what people love, if you’re so inclined, please take the time to share your Top Three (3) Lists of a) Live Action Superhero Movies b) Live Action Superhero TV Series c) Animated Superhero Movies and d) Animated Superhero TV Series. Invite others to share by tagging or copy/pasting this into a friend’s ask and of course everyone should feel free to gush! (If you’re feeling extra kind tag your post “a superhero lover’s top three” so people know where to look.)

Okay you asked for it…

Needless to say, Here be spoilers.

Top 3 Live Action Movies:

Avengers (2012): First Group movies are hard. I’ve tried to write group stories and that’s hard enough when you don’t have to worry about fitting everything into 2 -2 ½ hours, And balancing out story arcs, and screen time. This movie may not be perfect, but it comes damn close. There was a whole lot of pressure on this movie, because everyone know they were building up to it, and while I would have loved to see more of certain characters *cough* Clint *cough*, It managed to set up basically the entire MCU world from then on. It may not have been a traditional origin story, but this is the movie that kicked everything off.

The Dark Knight (2008): Okay storytime. My first job was as a lifeguard, and we rotated around the pool in increments of about an hour and a half per circuit. In the break room there was a small Tv with an old VCR. We had exactly 2 movies,  The Matrix and the old 1989 Batman movie with Jack Nicholson as the Joker. By the end of the summer everyone hated those two movies, myself included, because they were the only things we ever watched. I, myself managed to see the scene in Batman where the Joker defeces the museum over twenty times. To this day that it the only scene I can remember from that movie (and I can remember it in crystal clarity) because with a 15 minute break that’s all I got to see.

I bring this up because that’s what I had in my head as the joker for a long time, and I hated it. I hated the movie, I hated the character, I hated everything about it. There was the occasional flashback to Batman the animated series, but overall, yeah, hate.

Then this movie came out. The first one was good, but this one was going to have the joker, and I detested the Joker (honestly he’s a very good character to hate) and I was floored. Not only was a sequel just as good if not better than the original, but it took the Joker in a different direction. This was something I hadn’t seen before and while I still hated him, this is a portrayal that didn’t make me drown in it and ruin the movie.

Unbreakable: This movie, I don’t even have words for this movie. I know people go on about M. Night Shyamalan plot twists, but forget that for a moment.

Just look at the opening scene. A guy on a train, a little girl making faces. A woman sits down next to him and they start to talk. He takes off his wedding ring. It gets awkward, and things start to fall apart, then boom train crash.

The attention to detail, and character building are amazing. So many superhero movies just don’t bother. They’re too caught up in the CGI or in finding a way to revamp an old character. Don’t get me wrong I love origin stories, but there’s only so many ways you can play them.  Instead of making everything bigger in scale in order to keep things interesting and challenging it keeps the focus on the internal and personal conflicts just as much as the external ones, so that they feed into each other.

This movie manages to give us a truly human superhero.

A common failing of superhero movies is that the character development seems forced or clunky because the focus is to get to the big ending fight scene. Not so here. The final big fight scene is important because of what it means to the characters, not because of someone’s powers or who/what they’re threatening. Which is why the ending twist actually really works.

I can’t even describe how much I love this movie.

Top 3 Live Action TV Series:

Daredevil: So I’m going to focus on season one here.

This series took risks and they paid off in spades. It focuses on the villains almost at the expense of the heroes, but because of that we know the full scope of what Matt is facing. This isn’t just “oh I stopped a mugging” it’s full on organized crime. For half the season Matt doesn’t even know who’s in charge, or that there even is one person in charge.

The cinematography is gorgeous. Pay attention to the colors. Everything is clearly chosen for a reason. By the end of the season I was getting nervous when Vanessa wore black. There have been a couple other movies that tried to play up the color thing, but most of them had crappy scripts. It this series, the stark color contrasts only amplify what is already a great show.

It eases you into the weird. This show is canonically in the same universe as the Avengers. Thor, Hulk, Aliens, they all exist, but it’s a distant presence to the average guy on the street. And this series shows that. When an honest to god Ninja showed up I was flabbergasted, because while I knew that they could be a thing in this universe, it still felt like something i’d never seen before. ( This is also a part of my disappointment about season 2 but I’m not going to get into that here. )

In a lot of ways this is actually a season long origin story. We got the time and breadth to fully explore how Matt became Daredevil. Training montages are fun and all, but this gave it depth.

I could go on. The catholic themes, the brutality that never seemed unnecessary or over the top.

This is a wonderful show that set an extremely high bar for the rest of the Netfix originals.

Heroes: I loved this show (before the writers strike ruined it) because there were so many good characters and none of them seemed to know what they were doing. The way everything slowly wove together in the first season was great. The recurring themes that were the paintings and the company.

This show had a lot of potential and it was clear the writers had a lot of ideas. Not many of those ideas actually made it to the screen in later seasons, but despite that, this was a fun show to watch every week and a fun show to binge watch when I need to lift my spirits.

Flash:  I had a hard time picking among the CW Flash/Arrow/Legends/Supergirl set.

Supergirl was the show I wished I had as a young girl. Legends has just the right amount of over the top that I love.

Flash ended up winning because Flash is my favorite superhero.

Wally was the Flash I grew up with and when the show came out I kind of wanted to hate it because DC had written him out of existence  ( in both the comics and Young Justice… Seriously DC what do you have against him? ) Barry, had featured in Arrow of course, which i Loved to Death, But that didn’t mean he’d be written well or be able to carry his own show…  The core of Barry’s character in any universe is that he’s hopeful. He will see the best in people and bring it out in those around him. Despite him being incredibly awkward in the first season he had that. It worked.

And then in episode four they gave us Len and he was so well done I just melted. After that I was sold.

Top 3 Animated Superhero movies:

Justice League New Frontier: If you watch nothing else on this list, watch this one.

The interweaving storylines, the art style, the plot, everything about this movie is gold. I’m a long time DC fan and the number of subtle hints, and worldbuilding they do is amazing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a movie new fans can enjoy. Because it’s a sort of coming together of the Justice League, you don’t need to know anything beyond who Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman are. All the lesser known characters are given their own small arcs so you know what they’re about.

Then on a deeper layer it’s a social commentary on the cold war, and the space race, and the fear of the unknown. I have watched this movie dozens of times. I own an autographed copy of the DVD. Every time I watch it I notice something new.

Batman: Under the Red Hood: The Red Hood storyline in the comics is a bit of a monster. You have to be a fan and know the history in order to understand all the implications. The movie has a bit of that, but in my opinion it does a good job filling in most of the gaps.

While the Joker is the main villain he’s more of a foil for Jason and to a lesser degree Bruce. (which is definitely a plus in my book, see above rant of hatred regarded the Joker)

It’s hard to pin down exactly what I love about this one. It’s strange to say, but if I had to pick one thing it’d be the pacing. There are individual lines that are amazing but it’s the culmination that makes this a great movie. There’s a balance to it. Lighter moments even though the plot is very dark. Action and quieter moments each given their place.

Planet Hulk: This one makes the list because I have a soft spot for the Hulk and this is the first comic storyline for the hulk that I ever read. The movie isn’t as complex as the comics of course and they have to wrap everything up in a bow rather then lead into the next comic story, but it’s a good depiction nevertheless.

Top 3 Animated Superhero TV Series:

I realize this is kind of a cop out, but they really are my favorites.

Batman the animated series: It set the standard for all other superhero shows for the next few decades. It invented Detective Montoya, Harley Quinn and several other minor characters. It gave several villains backstories that are still used today, Freeze being the one that comes to mind. It was the start of the whole DC animated universe ( Batman animated, Superman animated, Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, Static Shock, Batman Beyond and possibly a few more I’m forgetting )

If there’s a top ten list of superhero shows that doesn’t have the Batman animated Series, then it was probably disqualified for being too awesome.

Justice League Unlimited: Everything Batman was but with a bigger cast. Minor heroes got a place to shine. While still shown as being important to the larger plot, and oh those plots. The Legion of Doom, Doomsday, Brainiac. As much as the hero’s got to shine so did the villains.

Keep in mind a lot of these characters (on both sides) hadn’t been portrayed on screen before this, and for a lot of the lesser known ones the portrayal here is still what people who don’t read the comics think of first.

Batman Beyond: It was my first fandom, so yes, I’m biased. My first multi-chapter fic is still up on ff.net.

Batman is a huge character. He’s the bread and butter of the DCU, so much so that people don’t treat him like he’s human. This show not only admitted he was human, it started asking questions, and opened a whole new world of possibilities because of it.

The first scene still gets me every time, the gun, and shutting down the cave.

Add to that that this was not only in the same world but created by the same team that did the batman animated series and you get a wealth of history that other shows can only dream of. The costumes in the cases, the trophies, they’re all the same ones from the other show. When Terry finally meets the Justice League, Superman references thing that happened in the Justice League show. And you can’t get the end of Mr. Freeze’s character arc unless you watch Batman Beyond.

Not that it’s tied down. It has a history, but with a new Batman it’s a whole different ball game. And Terry is a different Batman. He’s not dark and brooding. He sasses back to his villains like Dick. He’s got street smarts like Jason. He’s got the drive like Bruce. He may still be figuring things out but it’s clear he’ll be just as impressive.