#is little 9 year old Matt murdock

[hug-them-trees]

Clark loses his sight in Smallville and gains super hearing like hmmmmmmmm where have I seen this before

Y’all I ranted so much in the tags I ran out of tags this has never happened to me before

[sesamestreep]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

[buckets-and-trees]

Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k  Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more? 

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 

Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 

You were incoherent and not far from feral. 

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you. 

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 

This was a new hell you would have to endure. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

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[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap. 

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness. 

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses. 

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown. 

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation. 

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up. 

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in. 

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night. 

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out. 

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched. 

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!” 

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie. 

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question. 

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.” 

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now. 

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can. 

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand. 

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know. 

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself. 

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.” 

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them. 

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt. 

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time. 

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you. 

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter. 

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it. 

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter. 

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay. 

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey. 

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt? 

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead. 

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away. 

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least. 

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode. 

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.” 

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance. 

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it. 

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it. 

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path. 

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality. 

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track. 

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt. 

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!” 

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying. 

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.” 

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?” 

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!” 

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue. 

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you. 

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen. 

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him. 

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be. 

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world. 

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide. 

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

[thequeertheatrekid]

—SUMMARY

Being a blind lawyer is no easy task, Matt knows that, now throw in the fact that he’s a secret crime fighting ninja vigilante, on an irregular basis, things get complicated.

And if you add in that, he Matthew Micheal Murdock, has been a single father for about 5 years now, complicated turns into a big hot mess.

But it’s his big hot mess, and he will fight tooth and nail to protect it.

——

-Or

Matt goes through the motions, but with a nearly 5 year old trailing behind him. Goes as well as you’d expect.

Luckily, for our favourite blind duck, he has unknowingly started to put together a miss-match family of his own, that will help him and his daughter along the way.

Cue Matt trying his best at being a dad, Foggy being an amazing friend and poor Karen who’s been caught in the middle, trying to keep the two other idiots from hurting themselves.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

for those curious about what’s to come, here is a little schedule of the last bit of 2022:

25/12, pink tulle (eddie munson x ballerina!reader, fluff)

26/12, thighs and titties (james potter, smut)

27/12, daisy chapter 9 (steve harrington, smut)

28/12, trypanonbore (spencer reid, fluff, the last repost of an old fic)

29/12, you are gonna sit there and watch (sirius black, smut)

30/12, koala (matt murdock, hurt/comfort)

31/12, happy new year, peter (peter parker, fluff)

[worldzerocelestialten]

Meet the player

I’m Chance. I am 23 years old. He/They.

I play Ten from Berdusk. I’ve been playing dnd for about 9 years. Much of that was waiting to be a player again. I’ve been rp focused for much of my time, but that wasn’t always the case.

When I first picked up the game, I fell in love with the rules and read the players handbook cover to cover. I was brought up to be a rules lawyer, but it feels like I’m more of a rules Matt Murdock.

Ten is a character I’ve been putting a lot of effort into. I work night shifts and when I’m working, I’ve been thinking about all the little details. For example, Ten would love Taylor Swift.

This blog will be my attempt to have a online journal for Ten, and have a sort of session recap for anyone who cares to follow. Thank you for reading.

[leossmoonn]

Mini Murdock

masterlist

pairing - matt murdock x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / requests - requested by @arkofblake “matt x f!reader where he finds out youre pregnant w baby #? and it's just pure fluff and domestic murdock fam content🥰🥰” I love matt sm and you’re causing my obsession to become an actual issue. but it’s ok lol

summary - matt and you find out you’re pregnant

warnings / includes - mild language, allusion to abortion, vomit and food mention, little suggestive if you squint

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Matt hums.

You pry your eyes open, setting them on your boyfriend, who was smiling widely. His hand was cupping your cheek, gently rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Good morning,” you mumble. You turn around onto your back to stretch.

“How did you sleep?” He asks. “Great. Although, there was this weird thing snoring right in my ear,” you reply.

He chuckles, “I snore?”

“Like an ogre,” you confirm. “Well, you drool,” he says.

“Not like you haven’t had my spit on you at some point,” you remark.

His face turns pink and he shys away. You giggle, turning back to him and gazing into his hazel eyes. You reached your hand up to his cheek, your nails gently running across his stubble. You couldn’t help but admire him. The sunlight was shining on half of his face, making him look like an angel.

“Staring is rude, you know,” he says. “Not when there’s a handsome man next to me,” you state.

Matt’s turns fire truck red and he coughs awkwardly. Even though you two had been together for a little over three years, he always got flustered from your compliments.

“What time is it?” You ask, closing your eyes again and snuggling into the pillows.

Matt reaches his hand over to his clock, feeling over the braille. “9:04.”

“So early,” you groan. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, we need to get up,” Matt nudges you. “Why? It’s Sunday and we both don’t work today,” you pout.

“I was thinking we could go out to breakfast.”

You open your eyes and smile at him. “I could just make us breakfast.”

“You deserve to rest. You don’t always have to be cooking.” He put his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly.

“But which is better, diner food or my food?”

He chuckles, “Your food.”

“Exactly,” you click your tongue. You lean over and press a chaste kiss to his lips. Matt’s arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling flush against him. You hum into the kiss, putting your hand on his bare chest and pushing away. “I’ll make us breakfast, okay?” You roll out of bed. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you begin to feel nauseous.

Matt senses your uneasiness and can hear your stomach churn uncomfortably. “Y/n?” Matt panics and sits up. “Are you okay?”

You run to the bathroom without saying anything. You collapse near the toilet, flipping the lid up and vomiting all of last night’s dinner.

Matt rushes over to you with water, rubbing your back soothingly. You clutch the toilet rim, groaning as you sit back on your heels. Matt wipes the leftover vomit from the corner of your lips with toilet paper, helping you drink some water.

“Sorry, you had to hear and smell that,” you grimace as you flush the toilet.

“Don’t apologize, you had no control over it. Do you feel sick?” He asks.

“No. I mean, I feel a little dizzy, but I just puked up everything I’ve eaten,” you sigh.

Matt puts his hand on your forehead, furrowing his brows. “You feel fine.” He then puts his hand on your heart. “Heart beat is regular.” He moves his hand down to his stomach. He leans in, listening intently. “There’s… something in your stomach.”

“Maybe it’s just indigestion or something,” you shrug.

“What if it’s a tumor? Or appendicitis?” Matt begins to worry.

“I highly doubt I have any of those. It’s probably just something I ate last night. I think that chicken was a little old,” you shrug.

“What if you are sick, though?” He frowns. “I’m not. Trust me, I would know.” You try to assure him.

“Can we just go get a check up, please?” He begs. “Matt,” you sigh. “We don’t need the unnecessary bills.”

“We can afford it. This is just the first time you’ve ever thrown up randomly, and I don’t want you to die.”

You can’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s worries. He was so cute when he was worked up over nothing. But to him, this wasn’t nothing. You knew that if you didn’t go to the doctors, he would try and examine you himself. You’d rather have a trained medical professional poking and prodding you than Matt.

You chuckle and put your hand on his shoulder. “Alright. I’ll get checked out.”

“Great. Maybe Claire can get us a discount,” Matt grins.

————

“Still feel okay?” Claire asks. “Yep. Thanks for doing this,” you smile.

“No problem. You’re my favorite patient. You don’t have any superpowers and you’ve only come in twice, counting this time,” Claire grins.

“Well, I’m glad. My visits would’ve only stuck to one if this guy wasn’t freaking out,” you nudge Matt.

“Hey, at least you got a guy who cares,” Claire says.

You smile, “True. I’m lucky.”

Matt smiles at you, leaning over and kissing your temple. “When will the results be back?”

“Because I know you’ll worry yourself to death, I’m making them push the labs. So hopefully in the next couple hours,” Claire answers.

“Great. Thank you,” Matt nods. “No problem. Also, Y/n, is there any chance you might be pregnant?” Claire asks.

You and Matt look at each other and begin to laugh.

“That is so funny, Claire,” you giggle. “Morning sickness is a thing, you know. That could be why you threw up randomly,” Claire hums.

“Yeah, but we use condoms, and trust me, we would know if it broke,” you explain.

“Alright, just making sure.” Claire types your answer into her patient notes. “You two are good to go. I’ll call you when the results come in.”

“Thanks, Claire. You’re a big help,” Matt smiles. “Don’t mention it,” Claire smiles back, walking out of the room.

“See? There’s nothing to worry about.” You grab Matt’s hand, bringing it up to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

“What if you are pregnant?” Matt wonders. You snort, “Yeah, right.”

“Are you late?” He asks. “No,” you shake your head. “And even if I was, how would I know? I’ve always been irregular.”

“I guess,” he nods. “Let’s just keep this out of our minds until the results come back, alright?” You suggest.

He nods once again, giving you a small smile. You walk out of the emergency clinic, driving back to your apartment. You made yourselves lunch while Matt read over the documents of his new case. A few hours later, Claire called your cell.

“Time for the results!” You exclaim as you answer the phone. “Hey, Claire. So, am I dying?”

Claire laughs, “No. But, um, I do have some news for you. Put me on speakerphone if you haven’t already.”

“Alright. You are on speaker phone,” you say. “Is Matt next to you?” Claire asks.

You walk over to the kitchen table where Matt is, sitting down. “Now he is.”

“Alright. Well, Y/n’s test results looked great. She’s not dying at all. But, there is something that came back positive.”

Matt’s leg bounces up and down anxiously. “What is it?”

“She’s pregnant.”

You drop your phone on the table. “What?”

“I know you two said that you use a condom all the time, but they can break and you may not realize it. Plus, maybe there was one time where you two didn’t.”

You look at Matt. He’s just as shocked as you are. He takes off his glasses, running his hands over his face.

“Oh, my god,” he groans. “I-I don’t know how this happened. I —”

“Wait, Matt?” You look at him as his eyes light up in realization.

“Remember when we went to see the play?” He asks.

“Yeah, what about it?” You nod. “Remember what we did in the parking lot after the show?” He raises his brows.

“Oh, shit,” you smack your forehead. “Let me guess, you two did not use protection?” Claire chimes in.

“Yeah,” you groan. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” Claire hangs up.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as your mind races with what if’s.

“Y/n?” Matt’s voice is quiet and hesitant.

“Yeah?” You lift your head and look at him.

“What are you… What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. You fidget with the necklace Matt bought you. You glanced at his face, reading the expression. “Do you...?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But… I know it’s ultimately your decision.”

You smile, moving your hand to his and intertwining fingers. “Thanks, Matt.”

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”

You shift in your seat, putting your free hand on your belly. “I just can’t believe it.”

Matt chuckles, “I know.”

“And I don’t know if I want to keep it,” you admit.

You watch as Matt’s Adams apple bobs slowly. You can tell he doesn’t like you that said that. But it was the truth. You couldn’t lie to him, not at a time like this.

“I want children,” you begin to say slowly. “With you.” You squeeze his hand assuringly. “I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

He nods, staying silent for a few moments. “I understand. I’m not sure if I’m ready, either, honestly.”

You go quiet for a moment, trying to think before you talk. You weren’t ready for a baby. Matt wasn’t ready for a baby.

Matt wasn’t going to stop being Daredevil, and you weren’t going to slow down on building and beginning to manage your own restaurant. Although, you two had been talking about marriage the other day and a little bit about kids. Maybe this was a sign from the universe.

“When will we ever be?” You ask.

Matt looks at you, raising his right brow and cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You won’t being Daredevil and I have no plans to stop my career. Maybe we should have this baby.”

“I would love that,” Matt grins. “But what if it doesn’t work?”

You begin to think about life with a child for you and Matt. Even though you were a nervous wreck, the idea excited you. A little mini you and mini Matt running around, causing trouble like their father. Foggy and Karen being godparents. Family game nights and dressing up like Daredevil on Halloween. The kid going on their first date and Matt spying on them, the kid’s graduation and wedding. How amazing it’ll be to see your pride and joy walk down the aisle. And eventually being grandparents.

You began to fall in love with the idea of being a mother.

“The only way that will happen is if we let it. I don’t want to make any rash decisions, but right now, I’m kind of thinking of keeping it.”

“Me, too,” Matt nods. You can tell in his eyes that he’s already begun to grow attached to the baby.

“Again, let’s not decide definitively yet. Let’s talk about it more over the next few days. I’ll schedule an appointment with Doctor Foster and we can learn more about what life for us will be like the next ten months and on.” You say, making a clear plan in your head for the next few days.

“Sounds good.” Matt’s face lights up with a bright smile.

“What?” You can’t help but smile at him.

“I just… I can’t believe we might be having a baby. A mini Murdock,” he gushes.

“It’ll be a little devil baby,” you giggle.

“We should get a custom-made t-shirt for it saying that!”

“Definitely.”

Matt drops to his knees and puts his hand on your stomach. You laugh as he kisses your belly, putting his ear on it.

“Hi, baby. This is your dad. If we keep you, I’ll be so excited to meet you. You’re gonna be beautiful. Just like your mom.” Matt looks up at you, grinning from ear to ear.

You run your fingers through his hair, a small smile playing on your lips. Maybe you would decide to keep the baby.

————

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[dyns33]

The Devil’s Lawyer 9

Part 9 of Matt Murderdock x Nice Lawyer Reader. Part 8 here 

Matthew Michael Murdock could have had a great life.

His family was loving. His father was a simple office worker, but he was always here for him, he played with his son whenever he had time. He was funny.

His mother was an actress, and even though she was even less often at home, she did everything to show Matt even more that she loved him. He remembered that she was nice. Sweet. Everything about her was sweet, her skin, her voice, her smile.

Well, Matt thought he remembered. He wasn't really sure anymore. Everything was quite confused. Maybe he was wrong. It wasn't very important, he hardly ever thought about all this.

Anyway, he remembered the day of the accident. He remembered perfectly the truck that rushed at them. And his mother's hands that rested on his eyes.

Then the world had gone black. And noisy. And full of smells. And on fire. Too much.

Dreadful.

And it was just the beginning.

She hadn't died right away. First there had been the coma. Matt hadn't really understood what that meant, he was too young. And he was trying to get used to a new terrible world.

So, to understand that the form which did not move in front of him, which breathed thanks to a machine, which was cold, which smelled like the hospital, was his mother. No, he didn't understand.

His father had cried, a lot. Matt remembered that. Because the noise annoyed him. And the tears that ran down his neck and back every times Jack Murdock was hugging him.

Of course, it was normal for his father to cry. He had just lost his wife, even if he repeated that she was not dead yet and that there was still some hope that she would wake up.

           "There is always hope, Matty." he repeated often.

Yeah, right, sure. If it helped him hold on.

He had also just lost his son, in a way.

His father was very afraid of what was going to happen to him now that Matt was blind. Even though he was funny and kind, he wasn't sure he was competent enough to raise him properly on his own in these conditions.

Because he didn't have enough money from his job, to pay for the hospital, to pay for books in Braille, for everything.

He decided to become a boxer, in addition to the office hours. He was quite good.

Like this, he had enough to take care of his family. Even though he was spending less time with Matt then. They weren't playing anymore. Anyway, Jack was too afraid to hurt him while playing.

Matt had tried to explain to him that even if he couldn't really see anymore, he still could see. Differently. He was not incapable. He was not weak.

His father didn't listen. He never listened. He preferred to believe that everything would be fine, he just had to move on, and use his fists without thinking. He often advised his son not to do as he did, and to use his head instead.

Jack showed him some boxing moves anyway, in case he needed to defend himself, but he didn't really think it would ever come in handy. Nor that Matt would really be able to replicate them properly.

He was killed by the Kingpin's men when Matt was nine years old. And Matt only survived because he used his fists.

This caught Stick's attention.

Matt remembered Stick perfectly.

He had hated him almost immediately, but at least he was listening to the kid. He knew Matt wasn't weak, and he didn't treat him like a fragile little thing.

During the first few months, Matt secretly hoped to have found a new father. But Stick didn't want a son. He made him understand it very clearly, by breaking his arm. After that, their relationship was driven only by self-interest.

For two years Stick trained him to become a perfect soldier for the coming war. Matt didn't ask any questions. He had nothing else, so why not ? It was something.

Then the Hand came.

Even though he had grown stronger, he was still a child, and he wasn't ready to face them. Stick was strong, but old. He fought bravely, but he was killed anyway. He attempted to save Matt before the end, ordering him to flee. But Matt was no coward.

He didn't care about Stick, he didn't seek revenge, but he refused to leave. To go where anyway ?

Again, his abilities did not go unnoticed. The Hand was impressed. They took him. They did not ask his opinion, taking him very far. In Japan.

If Matt had hated Stick, he was burning with rage against the Hand.

The training was tough. You had to learn everything, from the language to the secret techniques, including a bit of magic. And the instructors were not patient.

They used both physical and mental torture. They understood very quickly that he was very sensitive to sounds and smells. They used his weaknesses against him.

When he got used to it, they did the opposite, depriving him of his senses, plunging him into total nothingness for several days, locking him in a small room, without water or food. This silence was infernal. For the first time in his life he missed the sounds and the smells, a bit.

Matt was still a stubborn boy. Proud. He resisted as long as possible. Deep down, he kept the hope of being able to escape one day. It wasn't so important anymore that he had nothing, if at least he could be free.

But after several months, he realized he could never escape the Hand.

If he wanted to live, if he wanted to go out, Matt had to obey. Matt had to become what they wanted him to be.

For that, he had to stop thinking, and use his fists, when the Hand asked him to.

They completely broke him. Or almost completely.

There were still a few scraps of humanity deep inside him. Memories of emotions.

Mainly anger. Matt could be very scary when he was mad. Meditation helped, sometimes. He knew how to control himself rather well, becoming a super powered ninja and assassin in a very short time.

As soon as they were sure he was loyal and useful, the Hand sent him back to New  York, with the mission of infiltrating the local mafia, and taking control of it.

Jack Murdock's advice was finally useful.

Knowing how to use his fists was a good start, but the head was important too. He would need both to rule an empire.

Matt Murdock therefore entered Law School. There he met Foggy Nelson, his roommate, whom he hated almost immediately.

Well, maybe not hated. Nelson wasn't as hateful as Stick or the Hand. But he was unbearable. Loud and smelly. Whether awake or asleep. Kinda stupid. Thinking a lot about money. And cowardly, terribly cowardly. Afraid of Matt, Foggy let him do whatever he wanted, avoiding their room as often as possible.

Matt hated cowardice. He hated weak, and small, and selfish people.

New York was full of people like that. It really wasn't difficult to take Wisk's place.

He first became his lawyer. The Devil.

Then he showed him his other abilities, and he became his right-hand man. The Western Sun of the Hand.

Then, subtly, pretending to do everything to help him, he let him go to prison, from where the fool still thought he was the leader of the city. Now Matt was the Kingpin.

It hadn't taken more than a year.

Now Matt Murdock was waiting for orders. And he was bored. So bored.

Totally alone in his empty apartment, in his office, everywhere, he tried to occupy himself until his next mission. He could do what he wanted and at the same time he couldn't. He was not allowed.

Normally the training of the Hand should have filled that void deep inside him. Or rather he should have been empty and not cared about it.

But Matt cared. He didn't know why, but it bothered him a lot.

He felt something was missing and he didn't like it.

Sometimes he thought it was time to end it all. It would be quick, he knew how to make it quick and painless. He was already dead inside anyway, and he had nothing.

For a time, he thought he had found a reason to live. With the Spider. Gwen Stacy.

He didn't like her either, the kid was boring, ungrateful, unruly. Loose too. She wanted to do good, but she was too scared to do whatever it took to achieve her ends. She had too many weaknesses. Her secret identity, her father, her friends... It was so easy to break her.

But her powers were interesting. She could have been useful. She could have become his student. Take his place. That would give Matt a goal. He would have had someone more or less important in his life.

Unfortunately the brat didn't want to. She was cowardly, but proud. He respected that. In any case, he could understand that.

Then he met Y/N.

The first time, he paid no attention to her. She was just another uninteresting little lawyer in front of him in court, nothing new. Plus, she was working with Nelson.

Then he heard about the cases she was taking. Difficult cases, which did not bring in money, which aimed to defend poor innocent people.

Weird. But why not ? There was always an idiot who wanted to do be a superhero.

Y/N was probably naive. She wanted fame and recognition by becoming the saviour of the oppressed. It would end very soon when she got what she wanted. Or when she'd lost everything, and had received enough threats ordering her to mind her own business.

In the halls of court, he could hear Foggy pleading with her to stop taking such dangerous cases. Y/N wasn't listening. She replied that someone had to do it. Because it was the right thing to do.

This was also what she said when she agreed to handle Madame Gao's trial.

Y/N had no chance of winning. On the contrary, she had every chance of losing everything, her life first, and she had to know it since one of her colleagues had had a slight accident because of it.

But she refused to be afraid. Because it had to be done. Because it was the right thing to do.

Matt stayed on her roof all night, listening to her work on her computer to prepare her client's defence. Her heart was beating fast, but she wasn't afraid. He liked that sound.

Now that he was thinking of it, even though he hadn't really paid attention to her before, Y/N had never really bothered him. She wasn't too loud. She smelled good.

And her heart was making a lovely sound.

So was her voice, he realized as he listened to her during the trial. She had a pretty voice. A sweet voice. A bit like his mother's.

And she wasn't a coward, though she obviously didn't know how to use her fists, as he noticed when shaking her hand for the first time. A soft hand, but one that didn't shake.

Matt tried to convince himself that he kissed her hand to embarrass her, and a little out of pity after the lawsuit she had lost. But without knowing he could, he had simply wanted to kiss it.

He began to follow her. Otomo asked questions, which meant the Hand was asking questions. Matt explained that he wanted to make sure she wasn't a threat, even though he was already sure she couldn't do anything against them, so there was no need for them to do anything to the girl. She was his.

It was a lie. He was just curious. No, that wasn't true either, not really.

He was in awe. Fascinated.

By her integrity, her passion, her strength, her determination. Her kindness.

As a servant of the Hand, Matt should have sought to crush it immediately, but it was quite the opposite. He wanted her to continue. Even if she couldn't win, but she had to keep going.

So when he noticed that Y/N was starting to get depressed, her heart beating slower, he didn't like it. Not at all.

It was understandable. The poor thing was really doing everything she could and despite that she couldn't manage to defend justice.

When she didn't stick around to hear the verdict of Cooley's trial, Matt was a little disappointed, but he could understand.

It wasn't hard to track her down, finding her in a little bar in town. She hadn't cried. She even managed to stay funny and polite while talking to him. What a true darling. For that alone, he had ever more admiration for her.

And when she told him that despite everything, she was not going to quit. She was going to keep fighting no matter what. He felt something in his chest. It was warm and pleasant.

As she insulted herself saying she was stupid, which he didn't appreciate, he heard in her voice that she was going to cry, and he hated it even more. He had to stop her.

So Matt kissed her.

He repeated to himself for a long time that he had done this only to silence her, without really being able to convince himself of it.

It wasn't the first time Matt had kissed someone. He had had many experiences upon his return from Japan. To learn how to act like a normal human being. How to handle fools. Manipulate them. To relax too, even if it was easier when he was alone.

This time was different.

If this kiss could have lasted forever, he wouldn't have been against it. It had been... a very long time since he'd touched someone out of affection. The last time, it was his crying father. Did his mother kiss him often ? He didn't remember.

Yes, he would have liked it to last.

But Y/N's little heart made a sound, indicating that she was panicking and reluctantly he stopped, simply ordering her to go home before leaving the bar and jumping on a roof to follow her discreetly, ensuring that no one would touch her until she was safe in her apartment.

He did something weird with his mouth while listening to her conversation with Foggy on the phone. A smile. A smile ? He could still do that ?

As she slept, he visited her apartment. Touched some things. And her face. He had never had the opportunity to touch her face. As he had imagined, she was beautiful. For several hours he stayed by her bed, listening to her.

Before leaving, he prepared breakfast. On the roof, he could hear Y/N waking up, and circling around the table like a wary animal. He sent her a message. He had taken her number some time ago. Satisfied by hearing her eat, he went to work, eager to meet her again.

The only good person in this fucking town. The light in his darkness. Hope.

Even if he couldn't let her win, Matt would do everything to keep her. Everything.

[cogentranting]

Time to cycle back around to the ‘which Daredevil characters got blipped” conversations now that Daredevil is reconfirmed as canon. 

I think they’ll probably establish that Matt got snapped because that means less gaps to fill (and more of an opening for Fisk to have gotten loose and started chicanery and mischief). Matt being snapped means 2-4 years of Daredevil activities between season 3 and his next appearance, instead of 7-9 years. 

But what about Karen and Foggy. Blipping them both is cleaner, simpler (and the way a lot of the movies have gone. No Way Home went with everyone, Shang-Chi had none). But if one or both of them stayed? Having to live for five years without Matt? Or without both of the other two? 

So a few scenarios. 

1. Matt is snapped. Karen and Foggy are not. After believing Matt died at Midland Circle, after finally getting him back and rebuilding their friendship, after just starting/restarting Nelson, Murdock and Page, they end up only having a few months together and then Matt dies. For real this time. And with the Blip, New York is plunged into chaos and now there’s no Daredevil (or Spiderman but that’s neither here nor there) to help keep order. And Karen and Foggy are haunted by this taste they had of the best version of their trio-- all of them knowing Matt’s secret, all of them on the same page. Working together. Healing.-- only to have it taken away.

2. Matt and Karen are snapped. Foggy is alone. And Foggy is the functional one. So he’s still going. He keeps working with Nelson, Murdock and Page as his firm (is it confusing that he calls it a ‘firm’ and it has three names for just one person? Yeah.  But that’s not stopping him.) It’s the Blip and there’s chaos so he has plenty of business and he’s doing what they all agreed on. He’s helping people. He even marries Marcy (and tries not to let on to Theo how much it hurts that Theo is his best man when it should be Matt).  But the nightmares he had when he thought Matt had died at Midland Circle are back, but this time with Karen added to them. 

3. Matt and Foggy are snapped. Karen is alone. And she is alone. She doesn’t have a Marcy. Her father won’t welcome her home. She can’t even carry on Nelson, Murdock and Page the way the other two could. She just can’t shake that old feeling that death follows her. That somehow it’s her fault that the odds were against Matt and Foggy. But she’s Karen Page. She’ll add it to all the pain and grief and anger and fear that’s followed her for so long, and if the load is a little heavier, she’ll just work a little harder. Bury herself in another story. Find someone else who needs to be fought for. This time she’ll do it alone (she won’t have another life on her conscious. Can’t handle another loss.) So this time she makes sure her walls are up so that no one gets beyond the surface. But she keeps going, and at least she’s reconciled with Ellison so there’s someone holding on to her, keeping her from being totally adrift. 

[bobbimorses]

Hi ! I was sent your way by @clintbartoncomics ,regarding a comics question. I’ve read everything Hawkeye that I know of,and anything I could find with Clint & Bobbi, and now am trying to find comics where Clint and Natasha are together/dating. I know how they started out,but can’t seem to find much else,other than them being together in the beginning of Old Man Hawkeye. Would you be able to recommend anything? Thanks !😁

ok, let’s try to break this down-

clint and natasha meet in his first ever appearance, tales of suspense #57. nat pulls up in her car as clint flees a robbery he tried to stop. clint thinks “sweet! free getaway-wait i’m in love,” and nat thinks, “sweet! free lackey!”

they spend tales of suspense #60 & 64 fighting iron man; natasha bc her soviet handlers ordered her too, and clint bc natasha told him to. sure, he started out trying to be a hero, but it’s been a whole 5 minutes with nat since then, so he loves her. and when clint falls in love, he falls hard. he feels morally conflicted, but what’s a little treason for your poor gf when you are but a simultaneously overconfident and insecure carny?

unfortunately for nat, clint sucks at being a villain’s lackey, and joins the avengers. natasha pops back into clint’s life in avengers #29. it’s here that i should make it abundantly clear that clint is one of comics’ most hopeless romantics:

she shows up periodically through the range of avengers #29-76, during which time they’re dating. natasha’s a hero now, too! but she’s working with SHIELD, so things get complicated, as spywork does--at one point she rejects the avengers’ offer of membership, an idea championed only by clint, bc SHIELD says it’ll ruin her cover. hurdles like that meant sometimes they’d discuss a drive to the beach and sometimes they’d be held hostage in test tubes. clint spent many an issue moping about as the other avengers went “is...is hawkeye ok?”

it was all very tragic.

due to increasing complications, natasha breaks up with clint in avengers #76 by telling him she never loved him:

you know, like a liar

while thinking over her tragic love life and all the guilt therein, she sneaks a check-up on him in amazing adventures v2 #7:

some time later, clint very suddenly confesses his love to wanda maximoff, a pining that only ever occurred in his thought bubbles, but gets rejected as she’s engaged to a robot. again, hopeless romantic. he laments both tragic outcomes in avengers #109:

now doubly rejected, clint goes across the country in daredevil #99 to tell nat he still loves her and fight matt murdock, her new flame. nat isn’t impressed by his show of jealousy, and more importantly, the destruction of her beautiful bay window:

clint, obviously, sulks about her relationship with matt in typical hawkeye fashion in avengers #111:

after that, however, there was no tension whatsoever once clint returned to the avengers after his long absence. natasha and clint were now good friends. things went smoothly when clint introduced natasha to bobbi (who you know he married after knowing for 9 days, what with his propensity to fall deeply in love so very, very quickly) in avengers #239:

they basically remained broken up since that fateful issue in 1970. some series revisited the dynamics of that relationship, though-- whether it be in their reminiscing, like in thunderbolts #43, or hawkeye v3 #7-8, or in flashback form, like here in black widow: deadly origin #2:

nat, bobbi, and clint even work together, with clint now broken up with both of them, in widowmaker (2010)

at this point you’re probably thinking “geez, they’ve been broken up for 40+ years. where did this talk of dating again come from?” well, a movie happened.

as with most sudden marvel comics changes and additions around 2012 (clint’s costume turning bland, phil coulson suddenly existing in 616, hulk being a full avenger for the first time since 1963), natasha and clint’s place in 616 was shuffled around a little in an attempt to draw in new readers from those who had only seen the movie. cue avengers assemble (2012) #5:

them making out was the cover of the issue, i’m sure to draw in some movie folks, but they stop immediately because clint has a girlfriend: jessica drew. i feel like at this point clint’s relationship with jess, which was never really fleshed out/developed to the extent of his previous relationships, became another casualty with the new 616 status quo. remember, clint has always been fiercely loyal to whoever he’s dating at the time--but then there’s this kiss, and penny in hawkeye v4 (2012). by then, no one was really sure about the status of clint and jess’ relationship in any series.

anyways! clint and jess break up at some point. clint and natasha proceed to pop up in each other’s respective series, like clint did in a few issues of black widow v6, and frequently work alongside each other in other avengers titles. then, secret empire (2017) finally ends their newfound will-they-won’t-they tension:

and because of their own storied histories after all those decades, it’s an evolved dynamic, so it’s all very interesting--but oops, natasha gets immediately killed. comics!

(she was half right)

clint breaks down sobbing at her funeral. and then, once again because comics, natasha comes back and clint teams up with bucky to find/stop her in tales of suspense (where it all started!) #100-104

most recently, natasha had an appearance in hawkeye: freefall for one issue, and clint is currently showing up in black widow v8. no, they aren’t currently dating--it’s, as always, complicated.

[deniigi]

@pomegranate-belle and @puffins-studio have kindly convinced me to share with you all this little bit.

It’s of Electric Sheep but if Android Matt had a Mike who’s been looking for him since they were separated as youths (right before Matt started to become an android)

Title: Seventeen years

Summary: bounty hunter Mike has been taking jobs in nyc, searching for his lost twin. A chance encounter with a blonde woman who steals his heart helps him find him.

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

Seventeen years, ten months, 18 days.

Mike had lived out of the city longer than in it. Rochester was as close as he’d gotten in foster care, but work had dragged him through occasionally, and frankly he was grateful for it.

He’d told himself seventeen years ago that he’d get back.

So here he was, reflecting on life outside the cell of a guy screaming bloody murder.

Dude was a bot-trafficker.

The shit made some serious dough, Mike had seen it himself. But you know what else made some serious dough? Bounty hunting. I.e. Catching the people who got pissed off about other people makin’ some serious dough.

These days, they were all bot-traffickers. Mike could barely remember a time when he was chasing jewel thieves and counterfeiters down alleys anymore. It was all bot-this and bot-that—which, to be fair, was kind of the same thing as a jewel thief.

Property was where the real money was at. And bots? Hoo boy, the best kind could cost a penthouse.

Mike thought it was good for them that they had no idea how much they were worth. He found it kinda sweet if he was honest. This screamin’ bot dude’s collection of androids were all tucked up against each other in the other room, performing ‘maintenance’ on each other like a pile of cats. They were community-minded, bless ‘em. It made Mike smile a little bit.

Of course, so did the paycheck.

Yeah, the paycheck helped, too.

 --

 He got a job for the city. He took it without asking too many questions.

It didn’t matter how much city jobs paid, Mike always went ready for a double-shift there.

The last time he’d seen Matt had been when their social workers had untangled their hands at St. Agnes. Both of them had been wailing like toddlers, like they had been in front of Dad’s casket.

Up until that point, everyone had assured them that they’d be kept together—that no one was going to try to separate them. They were twins. People would understand that you couldn’t just take the one and leave the other. They had an unbreakable and psychic bond, clearly.

But then one day the social worker hadn’t answered Matt’s question when he’d asked about it again, seeking reassurance.

Mike’s stomach had dropped then. And sure enough, the next thing they knew, people were throwing around words like ‘specialty care’ and ‘high-risk’ and ‘better in the long-run.’

Mike had gone to a foster home screaming and fighting in the back of a sedan. Matty stayed behind, allegedly to be placed in some kind of group home with more ‘supportive’ care.

That was seventeen years ago--almost eighteen years ago.

Mike only knew what Matt looked like these days because he shaved every morning in the bathroom mirror. But, he told himself, not for much longer.

He hadn’t become a bounty hunter for the looks. He’d done it for the money and the job experience. Could he track a criminal? Hell yeah. He’d been one. He knew how they thought. More importantly: could he track a brother?

He could, actually. He was a Murdock; he knew how they thought.

 --

 The job in the city was whatever. Took half an hour and a big smile to corner the gal like a rat. She went to the highest bidder; Mike went back out on the prowl.

Chances were that Matt would be drawn to Hell’s Kitchen. And chances were that he would be searching for Mike as Mike was for him. He was an idealist like that. Like Mike.

Awwww. Old habits die hard.

 --

 Hell’s Kitchen had changed over the years, but it still felt like home when Mike put a foot in the boundaries. He knew these stoops and all these torn posters. He knew that skyline and that raggedy flag pole.

The names on the businesses changed—some got new lights, some got new windows, but all in all, the feel was still there.

 --

 He set out to find Matt in the old, old haunts. Stopped by the church. The old kids’ home. They still hadn’t seen him, no, Mike. Sorry, my son.

He took a waltz down memory lane by the docks.

He found the greasiest looking coffee shop he could and sat at a sticky table, people-watching through the huge half-wall windows for about an hour.

Nothin’ yet.

His coffee was cold when he left.

  --

He ran into a girl at a bar that night under green and red neon lights. They danced close. She told him he reminded her of someone she knew, and Mike thought that that was just a lovely coincidence, sugar, wasn’t it?

He invited her to his hotel room. She accepted.

He woke up to waves of amber grain strewn across this pillow, sticking to his lips, and the smell of something powdery and floral in the endless line of this lady’s neck.

God, she was like a swan. Mike ought to buy her breakfast.

He did because he was a gentleman. He left to go grab a sandwich from the bodega outside but came back to find the bed and the room empty. There was a little note on the pad next to the bed that said ‘thanks, handsome’ with a smile face next to it and a number.

He eased himself down on to the bed and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth to grin around.

  --

Her name was Karen.

It wasn’t their last night. Mike saw her when she was in the city and they had a well-worn routine after a few months.

Every time, a new bar, a new club, a new drink. But the same dance and then the same chase and collapse.

She told him nothing about herself, and he loved that about her. She passed fingers through his hair. She trailed them across his jaw, bristly stubble or no.

And then the next morning, she was gone, and Mike was sighin’ like a blue bird in spring.

 --

 Valentine’s Day found Mike in the city. He didn’t delude himself with thinking that Karen was available—he wasn’t that full of it.

But he did think that even a lady as lovely and possibly taken as Karen deserved a bouquet of flowers from a ‘friend.’ So he took a meander down to a wholesaler and chatted up one of the makers until a collection of spring tulips graced by baby’s breath found their way into his hands.

Karen, he suspected, worked somewhere in an office. Her ever-present, practical pencil skirt said so, and the way that she frequented Josie’s told him that she lived in the area around 9th and 52nd.

It wasn’t hard to snoop. It wasn’t hard to trawl through the local business websites in that area, peeking at staff pages until low and behold, the golden grail herself appeared smiling on try number 7.

He smiled back at her photo and went back to get the name of the place and the address only to pause in his tracks.

Nelson & Murdock.

Karen worked at a law firm called Nelson & Murdock.

Huh.

Well. Good for that Murdock. Mike hoped he was out when he brought these flowers in.

 --

 The firm was dinky and crammed up two flights of stairs across from an orthodontist’s office. Mike pitied Karen for having to spend her days watching droves of traumatized middle schoolers leave that place with wires crammed in their faces. The flowers even looked like they were wilting in the hallway.

Mike gave them a pep talk on his way to the door.

He knocked but no one answered, so he turned the knob and a handful of people where sat looking nervous in the waiting area. The front desk was empty. Abandoned.

Oh, Karen.

Ever at work like you are at play.

Mike made his way over the desk and caught sight of a familiar fluffy little ball on a keychain at the edge of the desk.

It was adorable.

He found a scrap of paper by the phone, reached over and snagged it and a pen to leave a little love note when he felt a tug at his elbow.

He forced down the irritation and turned back with a smile. An older lady with huge bifocals squinted at him.

“Mr. Murdock,” she said. “I’ve got to go move my car. Don’t you give up my place, you hear?”

Mike forced himself to hold his smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy, madam.”

Murdock must have looked smooth as hell for Mike to have been mistaken for him.

The lady squinted left, right, and center, then scoffed and pinched his arm.

“Cheeky boy,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She left.

Mike’s brain short-circuited for another few seconds before declaring that whole situation unresolvable, bizarre, and emphatically not his problem. Sorry Nana. Go to the back of the line like everyone else.

He went back to writing his card.

“Matt?”

He didn’t mean to look up. It was a reflex, man. It came with the twin-territory, and this time it brought a moment of panic as Karen’s brow dropped stormily and her fists found her hips.

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been calling you all morning?” she demanded.

Mike’s palms started sweating.

Did Karen? Not? Recognize him?

Had he misread this whole love affair? Or maybe it was the daylight that was confusing her?

It had to be the daylight, right?

“Matt,” Karen said, irate as could be in that pretty blue and white top. “Don’t just stand there. Say something.”

Ahahahahahaha.

Too close. Too much.

“MATT.”

Out we go, back to the hovel from which we came.

  ---

He breathed out hard in the street below and turned back to look up at the window of Nelson & Murdock. It was flung open and he didn’t give Karen the opportunity to get her nose out of it. He hurried off into the crowd, ducking and squirming until he was sure that he was good and gone from sight.

Then he found an alley to clutch at his heart in.

It had been years since someone had called him Matt. Sometimes he took the name on as a false one, when working for especially shitty shit-heads. But Karen??

Mike was positive he’d introduced himself as Mike. ‘Michael’ but more like Costello than Abbott, he’d said. Karen had laughed.

What the fuck, man? What the fuck?

He looked at the flowers in his hand.

A waste.

Hhhng. Alright, well. There was for sure to be someone needing cheering up at a bar somewhere. Might as well spare them for the Singles Awareness Gigs sure to be happening soon.

  ---

He ended up at Josie’s because he always ended up at Josie’s, but this time with barely anyone in the place at 3pm on Valentine’s Day, she actually noticed him and gave him an eyebrow. He chose to ignore it in order to wallow in self-pity and raised his glass to his lips.

It didn’t make it.

He stared in stunned silence at the hand suddenly covering his glass.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea, pal,” Josie said.

Mike gaped at her in shock.

“I? Paid for this?” he said.

There was a long moment of awkward silence.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Josie said. “My bad. I thought you were someone else.”

Someone else?

Someone—

WAIT.

“Someone else? Does someone who looks like me come here?” Mike blurted out with zero grace before he could stop himself. “Does he—do you know his name? Is he—does he—”

Josie frowned hard at him.

“You’re not Matt,” she said after a long moment. “I always thought you were Matt.”

Matt!!

Matty!! MATT. You little shit. You perfect, darling, little shit. Out here, comin’ to Josie’s like a chump—possible alcoholic Matt!

Okay, wait, roll that one back—one problem at a time.

“He’s my brother. I’ve been looking for him for eighteen years, we were separated in foster care—do you know where he lives?” Mike asked with no filter to be seen for miles.

Was it professional of him?

No.

But were hugs at airports ever professional? Exactly. Get off his case.

He beamed wide at Josie, but her face did not reciprocate the gesture. Actually, it seemed to be doing the opposite and that made this little squirming feeling start up in Mike’s gut.

“Christ,” Josie said. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Wh-what?

“You’re gonna need a double.”

What did that mean?

“Take this.”

No. No, what did that mean?

“Take the shot, kid. Trust me. You’re gonna need it.”

  ---

No.

Just.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Josie rubbed her fingernails against her cheek and sighed.

“His owner brings him along,” she said. “Lets him work at their law firm with him—he’s made the papers, sure, but you know. It’s all kind of colored by the fact that he can’t really do shit without permission.”

Mike rolled the tumbler in his hand around.

Nelson, eh? So called ‘owner’ of the android called Matthew Michael Murdock.

Ahahahaha.

Get ready to die, motherfucker.

“But he tries to drink—Matt does,” Mike felt himself say.

Josie didn’t want to look at him.

“Sometimes, it’s like he forgets he’s a droid,” she said. “Usually, he’s got someone with him to keep him out of trouble.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Josie said. “It’s a load of bull.”

FUCK.

He set the tumbler down.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“It’s on the house,” Josie said. “Best of luck.”

Yeah.

Thanks.

  ---

Matty was—

Matty was—

Mike made it back to his hotel room before sinking to his knees by the bed. God had never heeded his prayers before, but things were different now.

Matty couldn’t pray for the both of them anymore. He was—He was--

Mike had to—

God, please.

Please. Give him back. What once was lost had to be found.

What once was lost, God.

Mike had lost him.

He’d lost him forever.

Give him back.

 ---

 He typed Matt’s name into the search engine on his phone and made it through one whole article before he was kneeling before a much harder, much more porcelain altar.

He tried again in the bathroom this time, sat on the floor with his back against the tub.

The bot that someone had made out of Matty looked so sweet. Like Mike, but softer in the cheeks. Younger. Forever 22 or something close to it.

He was still blind, despite all his other modifications and he was a little famous in the field of robotics. Not that the bot appeared to care. The articles claimed that the bot had recovered and retained memories prior to what they kept calling his ‘transition.’

What they meant was when he’d been transformed into a human weapon. An inhuman weapon.

Matty, I’m so sorry.

 ---

 There was only so much self-pity a man could wallow in before his ass started to fall asleep. But more than that, Mike was a Murdock. The tingling in his limbs was lost to the ever-increasing roar of fire in his ears.

That bastard. That bastard lawyer.

Taking Matt after everything he’d been through and turning him into some prop to be used as a showpiece in a grand legal theatre.

Fuck no. Fuck that.

Mike wasn’t fucking this up twice.

 ---

 Nelson & Murdock was closed by the time Mike once again found himself outside its doors. He stared at the sign’s heavy black letters and gave in to the devil raging, hot, underneath the skin of his chest.

He left the shattered doorglass on the ground as he made his way to the opposite stairwell.

 ---

 Karen.

  ---

She lived nearby 9th and 52nd. She was probably going home to her handsome hubby, who’d shower her in chocolate and wine and flowers. But on the way, she’d make a stop. She was a working gal. She wouldn’t have had time to pick up a gift in return before her shift started.

Mike found her at Walgreens, talking on the phone to someone while she petted every teddy bear on the rack in front of her.

He didn’t feel sorry.

She didn’t scream when his hand found her face. He didn’t give her the chance.

  ---

He ditched the hat in the back storeroom of Walgreens and took Karen right through to the loading dock. She thrashed hard.

Mike could barely feel the movement. He was on the lookout for eyes.

An elbow found his ribs and a foot his toes before he got them far enough from view that he could let her go to readjust his grip, and when he did, he got her against a wall, panting.

This lady was tough. But in a flash, she mouth dropped open and her wrists went limp in his grip.

“Mike?” she asked after a second. “Is that you? What are you doing here? Why are you—”

“Where. Is. My brother?” Mike cut her off.

Karen recoiled until her head hit the bricks behind her.

“Your—”

“My brother Matthew,” Mike snapped.

The rush of traffic settled into the silence.

“Oh my god,” Karen whispered. “He’s your brother?”

“Yes. He is, as a matter of fact, and whatever you think you’re doing to him, I will do to you and that fucking lawyer ten times worse,” Mike said. “So you’re going to help me or I’m going to—”

“I knew I knew you.”

He felt himself go stiff.

“Matt talks like you,” Karen said softly. “Just like you.”

Wh—he did?

Karen’s fingers brushed the tops of Mike’s hands. They were cold.

“Mike,” she whispered, sounding for all the world like she was on the verge of tears, “He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Wh—she’d—she’d take him to Matt?

“Of course,” Karen said. “He’s one of my best friends.”

They were friends? How were they friends? Was this a sick joke?

“No. It’s not. I met him years ago it’s just—I didn’t realize you were—okay, there’s just one problem,” Karen said.

 ---

 Uh?

“Sensory input! Greater than! Processing—PROCESSING—processing—”

“Matty,” Franklin Nelson said with both of his hands out in front of him. “I see that we are very excited.”

“SENSORY INPUT—”

“And I love your enthusiasm, and I know you love your enthusiasm,” Nelson continued. “But if you don’t settle down the tiniest fraction of an inch, you’re going to blow a fuse and—”

“SEN—sen-S-S-SEN—”

Uh?

“This is excited,” Karen explained while Nelson wrestled Matt into sitting for the second time since Mike had arrived at the door.

This was excited?

“He’s normally much more in tune with himself,” Karen said. “But I think you’ve jumpstarted some shit that even his additional processing power isn’t enough for.”

Additional what now?

“It’s a long story,” Karen said over the saddest sound that Mike had ever heard.

They both looked over to where Nelson had successfully gotten Matt back to sitting and was now coaching him through whatever the bot-equivalent of breathing exercises were.

“How long?” Mike asked.

Karen’s blue eyes pitied him.

 ---

 Okay, okay, okay. So. Nelson? Not a threat. Definitely a boon.

Matty?

Hng.

Heavy.

“I’ve literally never seen him this excited,” Nelson said. “And I’ve known him for seven years.”

No shit?

“No shit, we met at Columbia,” Nelson sighed. “I’m sorry about this.”

It was fine. Mike deserved this. Probably.

Jesus, what the fuck had they replaced Matt’s muscle’s with? How was he this warm and this heavy and not human all at the same time.

He’d seemed to have decided that Mike needed a full-body hug and while the first ten seconds had been cry-worthy, the last minute or so was getting a little suffocating.

“Matt, let him go,” Nelson pleaded. “He can’t breathe, bud. He’s gotta breathe, he’s not like you—”

“Subject: Mike. Michael Murdock,” Matt said brightly, scrambling off Mike out of no-fucking-where and getting way too far into Nelson’s face.

“Mike, yeah, you said,” Nelson said.

“Mike. Born October 21—”

“I get it. He’s your twin.”

“—at Metropolitan General Hospital at 11:32pm—”

“Matt,  you’re info-dumping friend, we don’t need this. We believe you. Don’t give me his social. Don’t—”

“—Social Security number 6—”

“MATT. End request. End search term. Exit page.”

Uh?

“He did this with the DA last week when he got too riled up,” Karen said sympathetically. “We have no clue where he finds it or better yet, where he even stores it.”

“—my brother, FOGGY.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ see it, man. It’s before mine very own eyes. Y’all are identical. It’s weird.”

“I missed him.”

“Tell that to him then. Stop touching me, ew. No. Go douse him with your weird fuckin’ eye fluid—atta boy, good job—NO. NO CLIMBING.”

Mike…was not prepared for the care and keeping of Bot-Matt. He had to admit that now. All those plans of snatching Matt out of the hands of these evil, evil people were breaking up into little fragments of puzzle pieces and he’d never felt more like shit because god.

He was supposed to look after his brother, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

“I’m so sorry about this,” Franklin Nelson said with Matt leaning almost completely out of his grip and making that horrible sad noise again. “But I think I’m gonna need to cool him down a bit.”

 ---

 Mike couldn’t stop rubbing at his face.

Matt was sprawled out across Nelson’s bed like he was sleeping in the sunlight. The wires plugged into the back of his neck slipped off the edge of the bed and led all the way to a laptop that was just about sweating with how hard it was working.

From the side, it looked like he was human. Absolutely, unequivocally human.

Younger than Mike now, though. Permanently halted at 24 years old. No wonder Karen hadn’t recognized Mike early on. Matty’s jaw was still slim where Mike’s had hardened square like Dad’s. The only facial hair he had was in his eyebrows and eyelashes—there was no reason to add stubble to a bot. It was just more maintenance. Just another aesthetic modification.

“I’m sorry, Mike.”

Mike turned to Nelson.

He didn’t look or talk like a single one of the bot traffickers than Mike had dragged in from the cold—and he’d done the full range of them, from the cackling madhatters to the cooing, babytalkers to the silent so-called geniuses. Nelson exhibited only exasperation.

The story that Karen told about his and her early encounters with Matt made it seem like Nelson honestly considered Matt to be human, like him. Like all of them.

“You helped him,” Mike said quietly.

“If I’d have known that he had you, then I would have helped him find you sooner,” Nelson said. “But I thought he was on his own. He never mentioned anyone else. I should have asked.”

No. No, that was—That was okay, somehow.

“We got separated a lifetime ago,” Mike said. “People thought that I’d be easier to adopt. And clearly he had other things going on.”

Nelson winced.

“That’s shit,” he said.

“And wrong,” Mike sighed. “I don’t even know what to do now. I can’t take care of him like this. I don’t know the first thing about droid maintenance or computers.”

Nelson considered him.

“Well, the good news is that you don’t have to—take care of him, I mean,” he said. “Matt takes care of himself. He’s actually really good at it when he’s not blowin’ his top about some damn thing. You’ll see when he wakes up. And on top of that, he’s already got a mechanic, so when something goes wrong that he can’t fix, we take him to Parker and he does the heavy lifting there.”

Mike swallowed.

“You guys really have it worked out,” he realized.

Nelson sighed.

“Like I said. I’ve known him for seven years. We’ve lived together ever since.”

Woah. Wait. What now?

Nelson turned exhausted eyes onto him.

“I co-signed for his loft, but he just comes and spends all his time here when he’s not out smashing faces. Claims my bed. Steals all the sun spots. Makes me only shit coffee in return.”

He—Matt—Matt had his own apartment? He could do that?

“Sure? Why not? He owns half the firm, too,” Nelson said. “I mean, they wouldn’t let me put it in his name, technically. So it’s through a wildly complicated, uh—let’s call it a ‘thing’ for simplicity’s sake. But yeah. If anything happens to me, full ownership goes to him. But as far as we’re concerned, it’s half and half. The only thing Matt can’t do is practice law on his own, so we have to double-team pretty much every case.”

Mike needed to sit down.

“Oh, for sure. Just not there. I’d recommend out of range, here. Sit here,” Nelson said.

 ---

 Matt woke up when Karen snuck around the bed to remove the wires from his neck. He scrambled up and fell right over the side of the bed onto Karen’s feet.

She swore. He groaned. Nelson pointedly did not come back into the room.

This time, though, when Matt got back up, Karen pulled him in the direction of Mike and took his wrist. She held out a hand for Mike.

Mike’s heart fluttered.

He gave it to her and Karen put his hand directly in Matt’s palm.

There was silence.

“Mikey,” Matt said after a long moment.

Mike’s eyes started burning.

“You came for me,” Matt said.

Mike couldn’t make his throat work. It took two goes to find his voice.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I sure did.”

“You ain’t singin’, though,” Matt pointed out. “Why aren’t you singin’?”

Because he was cryin’, man. God, give a guy a break.

“Matty, what did they do to you?” he asked.

Matt made a strange sound as he mulled over the question. A kind of whirring noise.

“Made me into a droid, dumbass,” he said.

Mike laughed before he could stop himself.

“Can I have a non-lethal hug?” he asked.

Matt whirred.

“No promises,” he said.

 ----

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 12)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of human trafficking

----------

The next morning Daphne was woken by a knock at her door. She let out a groan as she rolled out of bed. Her hair was down and every which way and she was in some pyjama shorts and the t-shirt she kind of stole from Matt. It was soft and cozy and she deemed it great to sleep in. She squinted at the clock, seeing it was 8 am before she swung the door open. Foggy stood there, coffees in one hand and a bag of something in the other. He flashed her a sheepish grin as he took in her very sleepy state.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said apologetically.

"It's 9 in the morning, Foggy. What did you think I'd be doing?" She asked incredulously. 

"I kinda forgot you have your own work hours," one toothy grin later and the pair were sitting in her living area in their usual spots. She was alternating between sipping her mocha that he'd gotten her and nibbling on the croissant. She couldn't stay mad when he'd brought two of her favourite things to her.

"Any reason you're here?" She asked after a moment of weird silence. He glanced at her and shrugged.

"I can’t come visit one of my friends after a while?" It was a valid answer but his weird tense voice alerted her to his lie. She squinted at him and he squirmed under her gaze. It didn't take long before he cracked and she idly hoped he fared better when he was in court.

"Matt said I should check on you. And for the record I have missed you and wanted to come by anyway," he blurted out. She felt herself straighten up a little and clenched her hand around the coffee tighter.

"He told you?" She asked with a deathly cold tone. 

He frowned and looked at her like she'd sprouted another head.

"I don't know what you think he told me, but I told him I missed seeing you and he suggested I should come and check in. Should he have told me something?" He asked, looking worried. She shook her head rapidly and downed the rest of her coffee. It was still a little hot but the burn distracted her from her thoughts.

"Did something happen?" He prompted softly. She wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave her alone. She would have if it was Matt. But this was Foggy and she couldn't even be a bitch to him if she tried. She blew out a breath and forced her muscles to relax. It did make her feel better that he genuinely seemed to not know what she was talking about and Matt hadn't just gone around talking about her behind her back. She'd rather talk to Foggy about it herself. 

"I went to see him yesterday and he helped teach me some moves. In case I got attacked again. It went surprisingly well and I learnt some stuff. But then…" she trailed off with a sigh, tossing the coffee cup into the trash can near the sofa. 

"What happened?" He asked carefully. 

"I freaked out. He was teaching me how to get out of some holds. But then his hands were around my throat and I couldn't breathe," she started reluctantly. 

"He choked you?!" He yelled. She blinked in surprise by his outburst before shaking her head vigorously. 

"No! That's the thing. He didn't even apply pressure and suddenly I'm back with Keiran being strangled. It was ridiculous, Foggy. I knew Matt wouldn't hurt me and I just flipped out," she lamented, tucking her knees up and wrapping her arms around them.

Foggy was quiet for a moment before leaning forward a little in his chair. When she looked at him all she saw was concern and understanding. 

"You went through something traumatic, Daphne. You need time to process it, there's nothing ridiculous about how you reacted," he soothed. She scoffed and shook her head.

"I hate that it's still bothering me. I hate that I'm not over it yet. I thought I was stronger than this," she huffed.

"It's not about strength. If that's the way you wanna look at it then focus on the fact you got away. You went through an ordeal. Yet you got the upper hand and survived. You got out of there and because of you, that lunatic will get what he deserves. The mental stuff… that'll go away in time. It won't be forever," he murmured. She blinked at him for a moment before a small smile graced her face.

"You're a good friend, Foggy," she said sincerely. He beamed a smile at her and pretended to dust his shoulders.

"I know, it kind of my thing," he smirked.

"Mhm. Daredevil's sidekick," she teased. He looked thoroughly offended and it made her laugh. 

"I am not the sidekick. That's what I want you to believe. Really I'm the mastermind behind the whole thing," he snorted. She smiled ruefully with a shake of her head.

"So…" he started again.

"I don't wanna talk about my feelings if that's where this is going," she interjected. She’d had enough of that for now.

"It's not. I was just wondering if you lashed out at Matt after all that. It would explain why he's been moping this morning," he quirked a brow at her and she tried to look innocent. He just blinked at her and this time it was her turn to cave.

"Fine. I was a grade A bitch to him and I do actually regret it. But I doubt that's why he's moping because he really doesn't like me anyway," she put her hands up in mock surrender. Foggy gave her a look and crossed one leg over the other.

"He doesn't like you? Even though he's saved your life, cooked you food and helped with training even if it did end badly?" He asked sceptically.

"Hey dude, he's your friend not mine. He's weird," she smirked at him. 

"You're both insufferable," he groaned before standing. She didn't move from her comfy place on the couch and he shook his head like he was disappointed with her.

"You're not even going to see me out? Where have your manners gone?" He asked with mock hurt.

"I never had any," she grinned. He chuckled, leaning down to her spot to give her a quick hug before walking to the door.

"I'm tired of asking you both this, but maybe be a little nicer next time you see him. You're so similar and you'd actually get along if you tried," he chided, opening the door. 

"Yes, dad," she saluted with a raised brow. With one last laugh and shake of his head, he was gone. 

She was glad he'd come by. She'd gotten used to his visits and how easy it was to talk to him. She meant it when she said he was a good friend and she had no idea how he put up with Matt all the time. She spent the rest of her day in her pyjamas, watching Netflix and looking at her emails. She had a few potential clients and she found herself hesitant after the whole ordeal with Mr Lee. But she tried to tell herself that was different. It had turned into more than she expected but she'd done plenty of cases in her years as a PI and something like that hadn't happened. It wouldn't happen again. 

Soon enough it was dark outside and she was considering going to bed. She was thinking of seeing Brett in the morning and seeing if anything was going on with the Italians and their upcoming meet. She just wanted to do something to keep her occupied. As she was closing her laptop, a knock sounded at her door. Her first thought was Foggy. Maybe he'd come to scold her some more for her attitude with Matt, even if it was 11 pm. But she looked through the peephole anyway as she got to the door. It wasn't Foggy. Instead there was an old lady she didn't think she recognised.

Opening the door, she looked at the woman warily. 

"Ms Weaver? Private investigator?" She asked with a worried look. She instantly felt on guard. She never gave out her address. Clients would contact her via emails or phone and she would go to their house. The fact this woman knew where she lived and who she was made her suspicious.

"Who's asking?" She bit out. The woman sniffled, glancing up at her. 

"Detective Mahoney sent me. My… my grandson's missing, please will you help me?" she pleaded. Brett's name put her at ease although she was confused why he'd be involving her. It wasn't like she didn't take missing cases before but it was rare and usually the parents or carers would seek her out on their own, not be sent by the police. Most of the time they were teens out partying, looking for a way to rebel and piss off their parents. 

"Please, Ms Weaver. He's only 11. He's been missing for 3 weeks and the police… they can't find him. It's like he's a ghost," she broke down crying. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest watching the woman so heartbroken but her words smacked her in the face. A ghost. When it came to a missing person, that never meant anything good. It usually meant trafficking and usually there was little chance of finding the person. It made her feel sick. 

"Come in," she murmured, opening the door wider to let her in. The woman looked grateful, wiping her eyes as she stepped inside. After Daphne shut the door, she padded over to her couch, gesturing for the woman to sit in the armchair usually reserved for Foggy. She walked over and sat down hesitantly, clutching her bag on her lap.

"Brett told me to give you these. It's his case file, all the reports and any leads they had," she murmured as she rummaged in her large purse and pulled out a file. Daphne took it, opening it and briefly flicking through it before closing it again. 

"And don't worry about payment, whatever you need, I can try to get it," she insisted. Daphne pursed her lips before shaking her head.

"No," she frowned. The woman looked panicked, as if thinking she was turning down the case and shook her head desperately.

"I mean I don't want money. I'll take the case but I don't need payment," she clarified softly. The old woman looked relieved and Daphne had a feeling she would have struggled to give her anything. She wasn't about to take a penny off this woman. Especially when she wasn't sure if she could really help her. 

"I need to be transparent. I'll take the case but I can't promise I'll be able to find him. I'll try my best but… I don't want you to get your hopes up," she sighed. She didn't want to hurt the woman anymore than she was clearly hurting, but it would only hurt more if she wasn’t up front about it. The woman nodded, hand over her mouth as she gave her a watery smile. 

"Your best is all I can ask for," she said sincerely. 

"I'll look it over, see what I can do and I'll talk to Brett too," Daphne smiled softly. 

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. That boy is my life," she murmured. 

Daphne stood, the woman following suit as she walked her to the door. After more tearful thank yous that Daphne felt like she hadn't earned, she was once again alone. Deciding to abandon sleep, she stayed up all night with coffee as her only companion. There wasn't much to the file really, and that had been where police were struggling. There were the basic details about the boy, James Johnson, and the account of when his grandmother last saw him. He’d gone out on his bike to the park near his grandma's apartment complex where he lived with her and just never came back. Gone in the wind with no reason or no sightings from anyone else. 

By the time 9 am rolled around, she’d scoured the internet for anything, any sightings, any news, but nothing. There weren't even any media covering his disappearance which was strange to her. She showered and got dressed, her patent boots and jeans along with a dark grey t-shirt and black zip up hoodie. She pushed her unruly hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head, case file stuffed in her backpack and her camera around her neck. 

She made her way to the park where the boy last went. She wasn't even 100% if he even made it there but it was a start. It was quiet in the park, no kids there this early and cold. She looked at it through her camera lense, snapping some pictures for later, but nothing was standing out to her. With her camera still poised, she turned around and through her lens she saw something that made her tense. The Yellow Lily. It was the same Chinese restaurant the Italians and Chinese would be meeting in. Meaning the Chinese mob were somehow linked to this specific place. She remembered how not that long ago the Chinese were trafficking people, using them to incubate their drugs. She felt dread settle deep in her bones and she took off running. 

She was breathless by the time she reached the station but she didn't know if Brett had made the connection. He would have found out about the meet after the boy was missing and it wouldn't have been fresh in his mind. But she knew this was more than a coincidence and if she was right, the boy needed to found ASAP and he probably wasn't even far. She burst into the station like a bat out of hell. She wasn't expecting to see Ms Johnson, especially talking to Matt, Foggy and Brett. Matt was already glancing in her direction, no doubt sensing her a mile away. She didn't have time to think about their last encounter. 

"Oh, Ms Weaver! I was just telling these nice gentlemen about you helping me with my boy. Free of charge too," she smiled warmly at her. Daphne's chest was heaving as she tried to calm herself down a little. 

"Do you have news?" The older woman answered hopefully.

"Uh… no. I just need to steal Detective Mahoney real quick," she gave her a fake smile trying to act like everything was okay. She didn't want to worry her. 

"Jesus, Daph. Did you sleep at all?" Foggy chimed in. She'd almost forgotten he and Matt were there. She glanced at him and shook her head. With a desperate look to Brett, he seemed to sense it was urgent and ushered her into one of the interrogation rooms.

"What is it?" He asked warily. He sat down but she was pacing like crazy. The coffee she'd been drinking all night hadn't helped her jitteriness. 

"I think the Chinese took him," she lamented, she couldn't hide the concern in her voice if she tried. Brett frowned with a groan, wiping a hand over his face.

"Shit. You sure?" He sighed. If she was right, things just got way messier.

"Not 100%. But the park he was last at, it's right across the street from the Yellow Lily restaurant.  And who's meeting there later this week? The Italians and the Chinese," she said with a shake of her head. 

"This is… fuck, this is bad," Brett muttered. She agreed with him. 

"Look, I'll talk to my guys, put some feelers out and see if we can get more info before we go in guns blazing," he explained. 

"Don't tell her... Ms Johnson. Don't tell her yet," she implored. He gave her a nod, they both knew this was bad and there was no need to worry her more. Not until they knew for sure what was happening.

"See, this shit is why I sent her to you in the first place," he gave her a weak smile as he stood, clapping her on the back. She almost rolled her eyes. She hadn't done anything special but she supposed fresh eyes and the new news of the meet had helped. 

When they walked out of the room and back near the desk, Ms Johnson was gone and Matt and Foggy were talking to the person at the desk. She made a beeline for them.

"I need to talk to you," she said firmly, aiming it at Matt but not caring if Foggy followed or not since he knew about Daredevil anyway. Matt glanced her way with a tense nod, holding her arm much like he did with Foggy as they made their way out front. Foggy stayed put where he seemed to be talking about a case with the cop on the desk. Once out in the sun, she ushered them over out the way to the side.

"The Chinese?" Matt asked with a frown. She was glad his radar ears picked it up so she didn't have to go over it again.

"Might be. My gut says it is. When you're out doing your thing, could you ask around? See if anyone’s heard or seen anything? Or if they know anything about the Chinese and their trafficking operations?" she looked at him imploringly but it wasn't like she'd need to beg. He nodded resolutely.

"I'll see what I can find out. Someone's gotta know something," he affirmed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Between her, the cops and Daredevil, they had to find something at some point. Even something small that could lead to something bigger. 

"Thanks," she breathed, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

"We'll find him, alright?" He asked, trying to be reassuring. A bitter scoff left her lips though as she looked off at nothing.

"What? You don't think we will?" He probed.

"I hope we will. But trafficking… Do you know how many trafficking cases I've managed to crack? None. Because they covered their tracks too well. And the Chinese, they're fucking pros at this. So I want to find him, Matt, I really fucking do. But I can't give myself false hope and assure myself that we will," she said angrily. Matt's jaw ticked a little before he looked away from her with a nod. There wasn't much else to say. She'd just have to wait and see if he or the cops turned up any leads and she knew it would chip at her sanity. 

"Ms Johnson thinks you're an angel. Wouldn't shut up about how nice you are. Almost told her she must have been talking to an imposter," he mused, trying to lighten the mood. She gave him the side eye and her lips quirked up slightly.

"I'm a lovely person, just ask Foggy. It's just you that's the problem," she retorted. He smiled ruefully as he glanced down at nothing. 

"Well Foggy seems to think we're basically the same person, so that means the problem is actually you," he smirked. She snorted, half a mind to shove him down the steps and see if he'd actually keep his act up and fall or if he'd ninja his way out of it. She did appreciate him making her smile though. Maybe it was time she swallowed some of her pride.

"I uh… I'm sorry. About the whole… thing that happened the other day. I was angry at myself and embarrassed and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Don't get me wrong, you're an asshole and most of the time I mean to be a bitch. But you were just helping me and it was uncalled for. I also appreciate you not telling Foggy what happened," she murmured softly. She couldn't look at him though. It felt uncomfortable and she wasn't used to apologising much. He seemed genuinely shocked she even said it before he smiled softly.

"It's alright," he replied. Now that awkward silence was back where they didn’t know what to say. She hated when this happened. 

"I'm gonna head off. Let me know if you find anything?" She asked as she took a step back.

"Will do," he nodded.

"Oh and let Foggy know that if he wakes me up at the ass crack of dawn again, I'll murder him," she shot a toothy grin his way and he chuckled with a nod. She hopped down the steps trying to ease her mind of the worry for the young boy. There wasn't a damn thing she could do but wait now. Waiting was always the worst part. 

[gonnabreakhisheart]

low-key binged watched The Defenders this week and it was a fun time xD

thoughts, comments, commentary:

first off, me going through the Five Stages of Hating Matt Murdock

1. wanting to fight him for siding with Stick

2. wanting to shank him for being the first person to decide to kidnap Danny

3. many expletives were shared when Matt actually beat Danny up. you know, it’s very heroic to beat people up for not wanting to get kidnapped and held against their will. especially former victims of abuse and kidnapping. Matt is such a good guy 

4. eye-rolling at Matt’s “this isn’t who you are!” at Elektra stabbing Stick. YES it IS MATT! also, are you indirectly calling Elektra a bad person, by implying that she shouldn’t want to kill a dude she just caught attempting to murder an innocent person? oh wait, I forgot, Matt only cares about protecting criminals, not victims. Matt’s like “new year, new me” but like...in a really shitty direction 

5. face-palm at Matt crying about Stick in the police station, like, get it together Matt, your dad finally got killed for trying to murder his 732rd victim. you can’t be *too* surprised, jeez

* I’m sorry, Matt sniffling about his terrible dead father figure was a little sad, but only because Charlie is a very good actor. But Charlie being such a good actor only makes Matt more hatable to me, cause he also does such a good job at acting like a dick as Matt

Okay, enough ranting about Matt, onto the good stuff

* “YES fucking FINALLY” when Elektra laid the smackdown on Stick

* I totally cheered when Matt told Karen to fuck off xD he was like “Karen, this is my life” and I was like ‘oh snap’ o_o Matt just chose Daredevil/Jessica/Luke over Karen, and then chose Elektra over surviving. that’s like, double dumped. kind of like dumped squared, actually 

* Foggy giving Matt the suit was such a sweet bro moment :’] Foggy and Matt’s friendship is sweet even though Foggy deserves better

“yisssss!!!” --me when the Thing happened to Misty (it was horrifying, of course, but also she deserves the COOL ROBOT ARM)

* cheers when Bakuto got Bakeeted, Colleen is such a badass

“they seem very sweet, and very platonic” -- my mom’s take on Colleen and Danny’s relationship xD

* I adore Colleen being like “guess I’ll just blow up this building and save my boyfriend myself, since you all kind of suck” while having a stab wound

* also, I love Colleen being like WTF and telling everyone off for getting her boyfriend drugged and kidnapped. Like, YES hold those fuckers responsible for fucking up so badly!!!

* Danny not getting jokes or sarcasm? my heart was very ouch </3 I love him okay ;;-;;

* also, give the actress who played Cole’s mom an award. she showed up like twice and completely broke my heart ;_; 

“maybe they’ll kill each other!” -- my sister’s hopeful prediction about the scene where Karen and Trish were talking xD

* loved Luke and Danny bonding, that was so sweet

* loved that group fight in the penthouse, that was very sexy

---> Danny demolishing Elektra’s sword? ...omg

* I totally lolled every time Alexandra was like “I’m *really* old o_-” at people

* also, Alexandra was like “I’ve killed a lot of Iron Fists :]” and kept touching Danny, and I was just like...I’m calling the police

* also, also, The Hand made cool villains but like...I wouldn’t want to join them? they didn’t seem to be having much fun for a group that was super powerful, and they seemed way too bitchy to want to spend more than 5 minutes with, let alone hundreds of years

*Malcolm shows up* me: “awe, it’s the red power ranger *u*”

* I actually really loved Matt and Elektra going out like that. Them making out while in an exploding building was so them xD Also, Matt is bearable and likable to me when he’s with Elektra. They have such good chemistry, and she makes him be honest about his darker attributes, which is so much more likable/genuine than completely bs “I’m a good person” Murdock

tldr; I loved Danny (as expected) and Luke, and really loved the whole group’s interactions aside from the, you know, kidnapping. Loved that a bunch of Bad Guys (Stick, Alexandra, Bakuto) got offed, and especially love that Madame Gao is still unaccounted for. Seeing all sorts of characters interact was really cool. Also, I’m starting to think that the quality and enjoyment of a netflix marvel show is inverse to the amount of Karen in it. All in all, 9/10 <3

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 9)

My Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 

Summary: Things are indeed better.

Word Count: 6165

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Natasha x Platonic!Reader, Matt Murdock x Platonic!Reader, Literally Everyone Else

Warnings: Swearing, Surgery, Organ Donation, Scarring, Stitches, Emotional Distress, Hospital Stay, Anxiety, Trauma, MENTIONS OF SEX.

A/N: YEAH, YOU’RE WELCOME! ;)

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky finally said the words that he had been holding onto for years, his hands placed on top of yours as he tilted his head down so that your foreheads could touch. “I’ve loved you ever since that snowy night, when you called me by my name and thawed out my cold head heart with a single smile. I’ve loved you ever since I realized that you were a much better doctor and a much better human being than I could ever be. I’ve loved you because you never let life get the worst of you. You always made things better for yourself and everyone around you. You made me better, you make me better.” The never ending tears continued to stream down his face as he finally confessed his true feelings. “I love when you care for everyone around you. I love that you’re selfless. I love that no matter how bad life had treated you, you never gave up. I love that you always strived to be better. I love how much you care about your patients. I love how you treat the hospital staff as equals. I love you for who you are, because you are worthy of being loved. Even if you’ve never been loved by anyone in your whole damn life, even if you think that you don’t deserve to be loved, I want you to know this. You are loved, Y/N. You are loved so fucking much, by your James.”

Hearing his words only made the tears stream down your face. You shut your eyes, feeling his grip on your wrists as you drew a sharp breath. For the first time in your life, you understood what it meant to love someone so unconditionally. For the first time in your life, you understood how it felt to be loved by someone so unconditionally. For the first time in your life, you wanted to let your heart run free, because you knew that James Barnes was the last man on earth who would even dare to break it. After all, he fixed broken hearts for a living and he was better than you at that. He had fixed yours.

You looked back at that night, almost two years ago now, when he had walked you home after a hard day’s work at the shelter. It was calm wintry night, the snow was falling slowly, and the sound of it crunching under both of your feet with every step you took had brought you a sense of calmness that you had ever expected. Snow had always been a demon that took away your sense of belonging until then. But now it was something that reminded you of the moment you fell in love with Dr. Barnes.

When you stopped at your door and bid him farewell, you did have a slight change of heart. But you did not know what it was; you could not recognize that feeling for some odd reason. Perhaps, it was your inexperience with said feeling that had caused you to not identify what it was. Some people described this feeling as their heart skipping a beat. The medical term for it though, was premature ventricular contraction. But you now knew exactly what it meant. When you had called out to him to express your gratitude, you should have done this then. You should have done it at that moment. You should have felt the warmth of his lips before the cold had blanketed itself into the night. But it was better late than never.

As you pressed your lips against his, you had felt again that same feeling that you felt then. You felt your heart skip a beat and enlarge, maybe even burst with all of the love that you had for this man. You felt it all. You felt your heart racing to the speed of a mile a minute, the dopamine rush to your brain, or was it serotonin or even oxytocin?

Your hands gently got out of his grip to stroke his light stubble and your fingers laced into his soft long locks. When you pulled back to draw another breath, you felt your cheeks heat up meeting his twinkling blue eyes, making you drop your head low but your smile was so wide. “God, I’ve wanted to do that forever now.” You admitted, looking up at him with your eyes full of content. “That felt good.”

“You’re telling me...” James let out a nervous laugh, shifting from the edge of your bed to stand on his feet. “It did... feel good.” He agreed, certainly just as flustered as you were. That surprised you, for he had always been a confident, or rather cocky man. But you rocked his world. You had such an effect on him; you had effortlessly dragged him down from his high horse.

“I mean, when Professor Van Dyne first taught me about the effects of dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin in the brain... I always questioned it. I never thought I’d be able to feel the effects of them in my brain. I even told her that those three weren’t even a part of my brain chemistry at one point because I just believed that I can never feel happy about anything.” You noted, laughing as you remembered that moment with your professor at NYU, the same professor who had told you about Steve and Bucky, who had somehow led you to be right here in Brooklyn. “But look at me know...”

From the look on your face, Bucky just knew. You were genuinely happy at that moment. That was all he cared about. Even if he knew that he was the reason why you were happy, he did not let this knowledge get to his head. He was not going to boast about it or take credit for it, because he knew that you were happy because you wanted to be happy. You had opened up your heart and let yourself be happy.

He was not even surprised that you were talking about your hormones just moments after your long awaited first kiss. You were such a nerd and he loved you for it. “You must have scared the living crap out of poor old Janet.” He agreed, laughing softly. “But you’re human and you’re bound to feel these things, although I really don’t think you’re in shape to be dealing with all of the effects of oxytocin at the moment.” There was a cheeky grin that had plastered itself on his face as he said that and you gasped. How could he just let that slip so casually?

“Oh God, James...” You blushed harder, covering your face with your hands as you felt it burning in embarrassment. “You’re... the most... flirtatious nerd I’ve met in my whole life.” You certainly had that in common though.

Bucky let out another laugh as he wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on top of your head as he took a seat next to you. He kicked off his tennis shoes to put his feet up on the bed, letting you rest your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad I didn’t have to use any corny pick up lines on my girl.”

“Good thing I’m not a sorority sister.” You let out another laugh, ignoring the slight pain in your side. But this was not the pain that one would suppress. This was the pain that followed a hearty laugh, like the tears that one would shed out of joy. You had not laughed this genuinely in a really long time. But being in his arms like this, you felt safe. You felt happy. You felt better. “You know what I realized, Dr. Barnes. Under this paper thin, possibly see-through hospital gown that Wanda Maximoff had been kind enough to get me changed into this morning, I am completely naked.”

“Feeling scandalous, are we?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows down at you. “Naked and exposed on a sunny afternoon.”

“...In bed with New York’s most eligible bachelor.”

“...And with several tubes attached to your body.” He added, laughing. “I must say, that makes you much more attractive with this whole gown situation.”

“Hey, Nat said that they can come out tomorrow.” You told him as you laughed. “But she’ll probably kill me if I pull another suture.” There was a hint of tease evident in your voice. But you were also a little shy about talking so intimately with him. As much as you had been wanting every moment of this for a while, it was very unlike you and you knew that. But you had also come to accept that things had changed for the better. You were going to let your heart let out its deepest desires.

“Not if she finds out how you managed to do it this time. I think she’d be proud.”

“James!” You felt out another laugh, feeling yourself tear up because of how much you had been laughing. You rested your head against his shoulder once more, continuing to laugh as you reached to wipe away your tears. “Oh my God! I can’t believe it. I’m talking to the Dr. James Barnes about... sex.”

“There’s a first time for everything, doll.” Dr. Barnes remarked, his brows furrowing for a moment. “But I’m willing to wait for the right time... you know, until your liver regenerates.” Even though it was merely minutes after he had confessed his love to you, he knew that this was going to last forever. He could not imagine life without you now. He wanted it all with you, after all. He wanted everything that life could possibly give him with you. “I mean, if that’s what you also want. I’m not going to force you, I... you know what, forget that I even said that.”

“How thoughtful of you, Bucky...”

“Did you just call me Bucky?” He asked, perking up with his eyebrow raised at you. “I’d prefer that you don’t call me that, Y/N.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what everyone calls you? That’s your name. All of our friends and even your little patients call you that. You always tell people to call you Bucky when they call you James. But why haven’t you... yeah, why don’t I get to call you Bucky?” You asked him, raising your eyebrow at him. “How come everyone in this hospital gets to calls you that except me?”

“...Because you’re not like everyone else, Y/N.” He told you with a sigh of contentment, his charming smile still beaming upon his lips. “Everyone calls me Bucky but you... you get to call me James because the only other people who call me that are my parents. I want you to have the honor of... being after my mother and my father. I’m Bucky to everyone else but to you, I’m always your James and I want to be your James.”

“My James. You’re my James.”

“And you’re my Y/N.” James agreed.

“I’ll be honest with you, James.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you looked over at him. “I’m not the best person to be in a relationship with. I’m not saying that because I’m insecure or because I think I’m undeserving. It’s just that I’m an emotional wreck sometimes and therefore, I tend to become... emotionally unavailable, perhaps. There are years’ worth of trauma and abuse lurking in the back of my mind. As much as I want you to be there for me, as much as I love that you want to be there for me, I’m not going to expect you to be there all the time. If you ever feel like being with me is emotionally draining, if you do want to set boundaries now, then I would do my best to respect them. I understand that my emotions are not your burden to bear.”

His lips quivered at your words and he shook his head. He had said these exact words to Natasha the other day. “Oh honey, no... you can’t put that kind of pressure on yourself. We’re all complicated, messy and bound to our emotions. I don’t want you as in I want your body or the space next to you in bed. I want you, as a person, as a doctor, as a friend... I want you for who you are. If your past and your pain had a huge part in you becoming who you are now, then I want that too. I want it all.”

“I’ll keep talking to Rhodey. I’ll work on myself. But I won’t let you suffer vicariously for whatever I’ve been through.” You promised. “I’ll be better.”

“Hey, I know you will. You don’t have to worry about that. If things get difficult for you, I’ll be there. I’m not going anywhere. As long as you need me, I’ll be here. I’ll be right by your side and I’ll do right by you. I promise you that.” He placed his hand on top of yours, sighing.

You wondered if you should tell him about Margaret, but you decided against it. She was in the past now. It was about time you moved on. You did not need that one best friend you thought you would have for. You had much better friends now. And you had him. “I love you so much, James Barnes.”

“I love you more than life itself, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You could not say for sure if it had been a few minutes or a few hours that had passed, or how your conversation had come to an end. But you had dozed off to the sound of Bucky Barnes’ heart beating at your ear, your head resting against his chest, his arms wrapped gently around you.

It was the hint of orange against the dark blue sky that marked the start of dusk. As Wanda Maximoff had found herself returning to the post-op ward to begin her night shift, she left her belongings at the nurses’ desk to do the first thing that she always did when she came into work nowadays: check on you.

When she walked towards your hospital room, what she would have expected was for you to be in yet another drug-induced slumber. Perhaps, Bucky would have been sitting by your bedside and reading another book. If you had been awake though, she hoped that you and Bucky would have talked things through. She hoped that he would have at least told you how he felt about you. But what she had instead been greeted with was a surprise to her own eyes. It was truly a beautiful sight. It was better than anything she could have ever imagined.

For as long as the nurse had known Bucky, she knew that it was such a rarity for him to sleep so peacefully. She knew just how difficult it was to convince that man that he needed his sleep. He was a workaholic by nature and forcing him to go home and get some sleep after every excruciating shift had always been a chore of its own. But seeing him in your embrace, the way he snored softly against you, she knew that things were just right in this world. She had done her part in caring for him for all these years and he was your problem now.

As her eyes glazed over, her heart filled with joy. This was her brother from another mother and her good friend, having finally found the comfort that they were in pursuit of in each other. She was careful not to make any noise though, for this moment was just too pure for her to ruin. But the moment she exited your hospital room, she sprinted down the hallway to the nearest stairwell and down the stairs, not even stopping to catch her breath as she reached the doctors’ lounge. “You guys... he... he... he...” She crouched down as she tried to catch her breath, holding onto her knees as she tried to find the words to say. “He...” But Wanda could not get herself to speak, so she leaned over to pull Sam into a tight hug. “You... you lost... the bet, Wilson.” She managed to say in between her inhales and exhales. “

“I couldn’t be any happier for those two.” Steve admitted as he wrapped his arm around Peggy, giving her a smile of relief and contentment. It felt as though they had just survived hell fire with that whole meeting with your mother. But he was glad that Bucky had finally found the courage to spill his true feelings to you and that you had finally found the courage to open up your heart and let him in.

“OH THANK GOD, HE DIDN’T CHICKEN OUT!” Natasha exclaimed, mumbling something in Russian that sounded quite triumphant before holding her hand out towards her friends. “Alright Clint, Sam, you two better pay up!”

Clint Barton let out a groan as he reached into the pocket of his lab coat, grabbing his wallet and handing the woman a hundred dollar bill. “In my defence, this was a win-win situation. Our kids are in love and I’m more than happy to lose.”

Pulling back from his hug from Wanda, Sam let out a chuckle before pulling out his wallet. “In my defence, I may or may not have done some meddling when he was having a little breakdown in the bathroom. I was kind of the one who told him to go tell her how he really feels. So, you’re welcome, Dr. Romanoff.” He told her as he handed her a hundred dollar bill.

“Meddling is fun, isn’t it, Peggy?” Tony gave the attorney a cheeky grin.

“Oh buzz off, Tony! You lost the bet too.” She rolled his eyes at him before laying her head against her husband’s shoulder, holding onto her daughter who was fast asleep on her lap.

“I may have lost the bet but I’m so glad that love won in the end.” The Chief of Surgery turned over to look at his wife, handing her a mug of tea and taking Morgan from her arms. He gave her a cheeky smile, his hand gently rubbing his daughter’s back as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Plus, I made a bet that I’ll chaperone Morgan’s school trip to the farm next week and Pepper will be Chief for a day!” He announced with quite the enthusiasm, only to earn a few silent cheers from his audience who were careful not to wake up the toddler who was asleep.

“My first order of business as Chief of Surgery is to give Barnes a raise for being the reason why I won this bet.” Pepper joked, laughing softly as she took a sip of her tea.

“What’s your second order of business, Dr. Potts?” Sam asked her, curiously.

“Teaching Parker how to deliver a baby. He’s been dodging my service for a while now and that’s going to change.”

“Can you also put him in matching pink scrubs for the entire week he’ll be working in OB/GYN? Because that’s something I’d pay to see.” Dr. Wilson admitted.

“Y/N would be so pissed at how you much you plan on bullying her favorite resident when she’s gone.” Wanda reminded him with a playful eye roll.

“Nah, I think she’s got her hands full with her lover boy.”

 ***

“I should have been here.” Matthew Murdock let out a sigh of disappointment in his own self as he held onto his former roommate’s hand. As the only person who had known you longer than anyone else in this hospital, he knew just how hard the last few days all must have been on you. A part of him felt guilty for having been on vacation with his wife and son while you had been going through this. It was not until he had returned to work that morning did he hear of the whole fiasco from Peggy. The moment his colleague had told him about your parents and the drama that they had brought along with them, Matt had rushed to your bedside in a heartbeat. “God, I wish you would have called me when you found them here at the hospital in the first place.”

“No, Matt... it’s fine. I’m fine now. I’m better.” You told him, really not wanting to talk about your parents. Talking about them and even thinking about them was a waste of your precious time and energy. “Besides, I got to live the whole pound of flesh and jot of blood experience so I’m not complaining.”

Matt let out a chuckle at your remark for he had been a frequent listener of your analysis of that certain Shakespearean play. As a lawyer, he understood why you had felt the need to share those with him. His eyes were shielded by his signature red tinted shades as he turned his head away from you for a moment. “How do you always manage to get yourself hurt, Y/N?” He asked as he recalled your years of co-habiting in that shoebox of an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, with you being in medical school at NYU while he was a law student at Columbia.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked him, feigning offense before letting out a giggle.

“The number of times you managed to fall off that rusty old bicycle of yours during your extensive commutes to NYU speak for themselves.” He responded, holding back a snicker that managed to force its way through his lips. “Not to mention the number of scratches and bruises you had to patch up every night.”

You rolled your eyes as you thought of those times rather fondly. You had been a walking disaster back then, accident prone and untrusting of anyone in general. Hell, it had taken you a few months to warm up to Matt himself. Your first few months of living together had consisted of you barely speaking a word to each other. It was a time when all your anxious self could handle was non-verbal communication, and Matt certainly did not do non-verbal communication. It took a while to break the ice, but once you did, the two of you had learned to depend on each other for certain things. “I’ve fallen quite a lot, Matt.” You agreed with him. “But I’ve always gotten back up.”

“I still remember the last time you fell off. You couldn’t get up that time.”

You let out a laugh as you thought of that day. “I scraped my knee pretty bad that day. I still have that scar.” You admitted. “I remember hitting the ground and thinking this is it, I’m going to die. I called out for you because I knew you wouldn’t have gotten that far. I kept screaming because I wanted you to be able to hear me. It took you a while to find me but you did. I heard your cane against the pavement and you calling back to me. I swear I felt like I had died and come back to life when I saw you. You asked me if I could get up, I said no so you held out your hand. I took your hand and got up; you let me put all of my weight against you. You told me to give you directions while I limped and you dragged me right to the ER somehow. I still don’t know how we did it but I’m pretty sure you’re the reason why I’m even alive right now.”

“We were the perfect team that day. I was your legs and you were my eyes.” He told you, smiling fondly. “I’m glad you let me help you that day because you rarely ever spoke to me until then. You were always cooped up in your room and when you did come out, all I could hear were the pots and pans clashing and then I could smell the food you cooked. I often heard you cry yourself to sleep during the nights but I didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t even know you. But then eventually, you came out of your shell. You always put a plate of food in front of me when you cooked for yourself, touched my hand gently to let me know that I can eat. It became our little thing.”

“It felt good to be useful to someone else for once, Matt.” You admitted. “But yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t really good at dealing with roommates back then. And thank you, for being so patient with me and for helping me out whenever I needed help.”

“Is this your way of saying that you won’t need any of my help anymore?” He asked you, his lips curling into a smirk as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Have you finally found yourself your own Karen?”

“Peggy told you, didn’t she?” You asked as you laughed softly, feeling your cheeks heat up at the mention of your James.

He let out a chuckle before leaning back in his chair. “She told me what she knew. But I’d like to know everything from you though.”

“Well, you better buckle up, Matt. Because it’s about to be a wild ride from start to finish...”

 1 WEEK LATER

Your bare feet were cold as they came in contact with the tiled floor of your hospital room, both Wanda and Sharon holding onto you on each side as you stood up from the bed that you had been confined to for much longer than it was required for a normal liver transplant donor. You were certainly going to miss that comfortable bed of yours.

You did not need to put your entire weight against Sharon as Wanda moved to close the curtains in your room, the duffel bag that MJ had dropped off that afternoon sitting at the edge of your bed. “Are you sure Nat didn’t forget about me?” You asked her, jokingly. You had been holding onto your discharge forms all day, waiting for your surgeon to sign off on them. Even though it was nearing the evening, she still had not shown up. As much as you loved this hospital, it sucked to be there for as long as you had. You could not wait to get home, or in this case, your temporary home for the duration of your next eight weeks of bed rest.

“Nat? Forget about you?” Wanda shook her head with a soft chuckle, reaching into the duffel bag to grab the button down maxi dress that MJ had managed to pick out for you to wear.

To your eyes it looked like a much more glamorous version of a hospital gown, though it a lot was less depressing than the gown you were currently wearing. The dress covered much more skin and had a pop of color that complimented the summery weather that had been peaking through the blinds of your hospital room all week. You could not wait to get a breath of fresh air after being cooped up in the hospital for so long.

“She got pulled into a trauma and so she’s taking a little longer than expected.” Sharon replied as she began to undo the strings behind your paper-thin hospital gown. “She’ll be here, Y/N. If there’s anyone in this hospital who really wants to see you go home, it’s her.”

Slipping out of the gown that you wore, you quickly fixed the straps of the loose bra against your shoulder, looking down at the gauze and bandage taped at the right side of your abdomen. Your wound had remained closed since Natasha and Sam patched you up, your sutures and stitches still in place with no signs of an infection. “But I’m not going home, Sharon.” You reminded her as Wanda helped you into your dress, buttoning up the front of it from the neck to the ankle.

However, what you meant by that was that you were not going back to the loft. Before your surgery, you had planned to return to your loft apartment when you would be able to leave the hospital. You had all of your friends on speed dial, in case you needed anything. But you did not want to bother anyone as much during your recovery. You had assumed that staying put at home and binge-watching whatever was available Netflix would be the perfect way to spend your time off from work.

But now, you had been left with no other choice than to not go back to your loft. You had Dr. James Barnes to blame for that. Ever since he confessed his love to you and asked you to be his girlfriend, every single day had been spent with him stopping by your hospital room at least once. Seeing his face made those dreadfully long days seem so much shorter. It felt strange to you. You had been alone your whole life and now you had that one person whom you can call yours. Your boyfriend. Your James. He was all yours.

When you had been talking about what you were going to do after you got discharged, he was strictly against having you go back to the loft. “That whole place is a safety hazard, doll. The stairs are too narrow and you won’t be able to make multiple trips up and down just to be able to take out the trash. It’s a tripping hazard as it is. All it takes it one wrong foot and you might get hurt again.”

You could have argued with that. You wanted to. But with the way one harsh turn had cost you a few jots of blood, you knew that you would be in to lose that argument. You could not help but agree with him. “I mean, Steve offered me his guest bedroom but I turned it down. He and Peggy are as busy with work as they are. And with Sarah, I don’t think it’s fair for them to have to deal with me.” You admitted. As much as you loved and appreciated your former mentor for being your real family, you could not be a burden to him for eight whole weeks.

“Well then...” Bucky’s lips curled into a smirk as he looked over at you. “If you turned down his offer, does that mean I can make another one?”

“James, no...” You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

“Come home with me.” He told you, his hand reaching over to grab yours. “I live closer to the hospital, you know, in case of an emergency. I don’t have any children or pets to take care of. It’s just me and... it could be just you and me. I’m not saying this because I want to jump to the next step in our relationship. I’m not asking you to move in with me, Y/N. I’m saying this just because I want you to be safe. I want you to be comfortable during your recovery.”

You opened your mouth to protest but he had managed to cut you off before you could even speak.

“You said so yourself that you don’t take up that much space, doll. You can take the guest bedroom.” With a pout of his soft pink lips and a pleading look on his face, he wrapped his arm around you ever so gently. “Please let me take care of you, Y/N. Are you really going to break my heart by turning down my offer?”

You let out a soft chuckle as you ran your fingers through his hair, the dark strands soft to the touch as you moved them away from his face. “Baby, I love you but you can be really annoying sometimes.” You told him as you leaned over to gently press your lips against his forehead. “Fine, but it’s only temporary though. I’m not moving in with you. When my bed rest is over, I’ll head right back to the loft.”

“Deal.”

Natasha Romanoff signed off on your discharge forms before she handed Wanda the clipboard. “Go home, Y/N. You really need a break from this place.” She told you as she stepped over to pull you into a hug.

You hugged her back as tightly as you could, laying your head against her shoulder. “Thank you for everything, Nat. Thank you for saving my life, not once but twice. Thank you for being a good friend.”

Rubbing your back gently, she pulled back from the hug to give you a smile. “You take care of yourself, okay? I gave Barnes a list of the foods that you should be eating and detailed instructions on your meds and when you should be taking them. If he doesn’t follow them, I will give him hell for it. Your follow up appointments are already booked and you don’t have to worry about how you’re getting here for them. Someone would always be there to drive you over to the hospital. Wanda put up a schedule so that at least one of us can be with you at all times when we’re not working. I will see you in about two days when it’s my turn to spend the night with you. We can have that long awaited girls’ night in, just the way you like it.”

There was a hint of triumph in Natasha’s voice as she grinned widely at you, as her years of attempting to become your best friend had finally paid off. She was your best friend. She was the one whom you were going to spend one night a week with, baking the night away or ordering some take out, drinking wine and talking about your respective love lives. She was the one whom you were going to call when you stress out over what to wear on your first proper date with Bucky. She was the one you would be asking for advice on which lingerie to buy online when the time comes. She was the one who would be your maid of honor when you get married, the one who plans your bachelorette party with all of your girls. She would be the godmother of your first child. She was your best friend for life.

“I hope I’m not interrupting an impromptu girls’ night in here.” Bucky Barnes exclaimed as he walked into the room, having changed out of his navy blue scrubs and into a pair of his signature dark jeans and a blue button down shirt. “But I believe my girlfriend and I have a place to be...”

Dr. Romanoff placed both of her hands against her chest as he said that, turning around to face him with an over dramatic sigh. “Oh God, it’s been a whole fucking week and I am still not over this. I am so proud of you...” She leaned over to kiss his cheek, placing both of her hands on his shoulder firmly and giving him a nod. “I love you both, don’t ever change. Everything is finally right in the world and I hope it stays that way, thank god!” Giving you a nod, she turned around and walked out of the room.

Wanda Maximoff gave you one of her award-winning side hugs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” She told you before picking up your duffel bag and handing it to Bucky. “You take care of her, doc. And take care of yourself, please. You better not be looking for a reason to come into the hospital because I don’t want to see you until tomorrow night.”

He let out a soft chuckle and gave her a nod. “You don’t even have to threaten me with telling on me to the Chief to keep me away from the hospital anymore.” He admitted. “I think I have a reason to stay put at home now. Goodnight, Wanda.”

As she walked off, Sharon followed right behind her. “Goodnight, Dr. Barnes.”

Bucky gave her a smile before turning over to look at you. “So, shall we?” He held out your hand for you to take.

You gave him a nod as you stepped towards him, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. “We shall.” You told him with a giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek as the two of you made your way out.

There was no denying that the two of you were subject a few glances and cheers from several of the hospital staff. As Bucky helped you into his black Mercedes, you noticed Thor the security guard giving him a thumbs up.

You gave your boyfriend a look of confusion. “What was that about?”

“Nothing...” He told you as he got in the car and buckled up. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

[warriorwerewolfheart]

Quarantine Questions

Tagged by the wonderful @captaindoritoes! Tagging @whatkindofnameisvolta, @the-v-gees, @herenya-writes, @yuna-dan and @icequeenforlife- no worries if you’ve already done it, I’m a little late to the party!

1. Are you staying home from work/school? 

Yes I am! Moved back in with my parents, and I haven’t left my house in the last six weeks but to go grocery shopping, go on walks and visit family. It’s been... interesting.

2.  If you’re staying home, who’s there with you?

My mom, my dad, and we have my cousins over a lot to give their parents a break from four kids under the age of 12.

3.  Do you have pets to keep you company?

Unfortunately, no. I wish I did!

4.  Who do you miss the most?

My friends, especially the ones I was hoping to see when I came home. I haven’t lived here for about three years so I was looking forward to seeing everyone again, but just as my two-weeks of flight related quarantine were over the government started a lockdown. Timing’s not ideal, but it’s better that they did.

5. When was the last time you left your home?

Last Saturday, so two days ago. My mom and I have been doing a bake-off every Saturday for the past three weeks and having our extended family judge. It’s been a fun way to pass the time and trash-talk each other.

6.  What was the last thing you bought?

Some books to help me learn French! Once I’m a better at Portuguese, I’m planning on learning French next, so I bought a few language and grammer books about four weeks ago.

7.  Is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed?

At the beginning, I was very relaxed, but now...? Honestly, I just really want to be doing things again. I’ve been finding it hard to focus lately, and there’s only so much time I can spend doing hobbies before my brain glitches.

8. Are you a homebody?

Depends on where I am. If I’m around energetic people, ie dorms, I tend to go out more, but I’m a huge fan of movie and game nights. If I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I like to spend a day or two reading at home.

9.  What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching? Haven’t been watching a lot of movies, but recently did get into Daredevil with my parents (my dad’s been trying to get us to watch it for years). Matt Murdock is Everything. Apart from that, tried rewatching Doctor Who, started Jessica Jones, and started Wynonna Earp. Like I said, concentrating has been hard.

10. An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

Probably the release of Black Widow, though that was less cancelled as postponed. My only plan for the summer was to work, which, for obvious reasons, isn’t exactly doable right now.

11. What’s the worst thing that you’ve had to cancel?

A close friend of mine was supposed to come visit me for three weeks in May, and since I haven’t seen her in like two years I was very excited. Both of our countries are not doing great though, but yeah, that one hit hard.

12. What’s the best thing you’ve had to cancel?

I really did not have any plans except visiting friends and working. I was supposed to have a week-long conference thing in the U.S. in March that I’m not super-upset about missing?

13. Do you have any new hobbies?

None that came out of quarantine. More like getting back into old hobbies; bike-riding, writing, baking. I might try my hand at drawing again while I have the time.

14. What are you out of?

Nothing, stock-piling hasn’t been too much of a problem here thankfully, so we’ve enough of everything. I was tempted to say sanity, but it seemed a little on the nose.

15. What music are you listening to? 

Thomas Sander’s newest Virgil/Anxiety playlist. And a lot of high-energy stuff. I’m trying to kick my mood up.

16. What are you reading?

Still Eldest, though I’m nearly done. A lot of fanfiction. Too many news articles, frankly.

17. What are you doing for self-care?

Working out a few times a week, trying not to get on my own back about being unproductive, doing my best to eat regularly/enough, and I shaved all my hair off again because otherwise it would have grown out. 

18. Are you exercising?

Yep!

19. How’s your toilet paper supply?

Totally fine.

20. Have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine?

As above, shaved it all of. I’d blame it on quarantine if it was the first time I’ve done it, but it was a choice between dying it and cutting it off and frankly self-dying is irritating.