#she hulk fic

[wannaliveattheholidayinn]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (TV), Daredevil (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Matt Murdock/Jennifer Walters Characters: Matt Murdock, Jennifer Walters Additional Tags: other nmcu characters and pairings mentioned, Fluff, Cats, Canon Disabled Character, not beta read and not proofread but a secret third thing, (posted at 2 am and going to be read over w a fine tooth comb in the morn) Series: Part 2 of guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Summary:

"Aren’t you the person who asked me to let you know if we were bringing any new companions home?”

“Couldn’t help it, baby, we fell victim to the cat distribution system."

[woodenpicador]

updated for the first time in over a year and a half!

woodenpicador: the masterlist (updated February 2025)

ao3 | bluesky | twitter

I write fanfiction, primarily but not exclusively for Yellowjackets (2021). I've written a few multichapter fics and a few one-shots. I also post headcanons, rewatch notes, and so much more on Twitter and Bluesky, though I am trying (and failing) to curtail my reliance on the former I'm hoping to use this space more!

Fics beneath the fold....

Yellowjackets (2021): Multichapters

natural habitats (13 chapters, complete)

(teenage wildlife - part I)

“Look, here’s the deal.” Nat leans forward and plants her hands on the table. “If we do this, you tell nobody, okay? Not Van, not Laura Lee, not Taissa or Lottie or Misty fucking Quigley, do you understand me?”

Shauna frowns, but says nothing.

“That means you don’t tell Jackie, either,” Nat says. “If that’s going to be a problem, then let me know and we can both start rehearsing for the spring musical now.”

Natalie Scatorccio is having a bad year. She’s not sleeping, her mom’s new boyfriend sucks, and a blown history test might bench her for the season. Luckily, Coach Martinez has an idea:

Tutoring.

From Shauna Shipman.

Fuck.

(shaunanat, alternating POV, novel-length WIP, E)

teenage wildlife - part II: coming soon.

mes beaux amis (4 chapters, complete)

(the precious heart of shauna shipman - part I)

“It’s a party.” Jackie shouts a honeyed rupture into Shauna’s eardrum. “Have fun!”

Yeah, like Shauna Shipman can refuse Jackie Taylor much of anything.

Watching the best friend you’ve ever had constantly break up and get back together with a guy takes a toll on you. Especially when they like to celebrate their reunions by sucking face in front of everyone.

Shauna Shipman gets by with a little help from her friends.

(Or: Jeff is Shauna's worst reaction, but not her first.)

(shauna POV, angst/drama, explicitish, pre-canon, ~55k words - shauna/jackie, shauna/mari, shauna/tai, shauna/van, shauna/misty, shauna/lottie, shauna/nat, shauna & laura lee)

versez le sang (2 chapters, complete)

(the precious heart of shauna shipman - part II)

Shauna has done the math, knows her life expectancy tops out at seventy-eight or so—and that’s not accounting for what havoc has been wrought on her insides by nineteen months of scrounging, scavenging, praying, and all the horrible things that live in the spaces between those words. She’s got about fifty-six years of exactly this to go, give or take. She can do it. She has to. It’s no more than she deserves, no less than she owes.

She lasts a month.

Everyone said marrying Jeff Sadecki was a mistake, but they were wrong. Shauna Shipman doesn’t make mistakes. She doesn’t make anything.

Shauna breaks.

(Or: Shauna invites cataclysm in pursuit of closure.)

(shauna POV, angst (very dark), explicit, post-rescue (2001), ~23k words - shauna/jackie, shauna/jeff, shauna/tai, shauna/van, shauna/misty, shauna/lottie)

the precious heart of shauna shipman - part III: coming soon

Yellowjackets (2021): One-Shots

demodocus on the radio

(odysseys - part I)

Shauna Shipman disappears two weeks before her wedding. This surprises no one.

What might surprise people is that she surfaces in the middle of the day at a dive bar in the East Village owned by Natalie Scatorccio.

(shauna POV, angst, explicit, post-rescue (2001), ~18kwords - shauna/nat shauna/jackie (past))

aeolus on the weather report: coming soon

(odysseys - part II)

practice makes perfect

"What do you think about painting?”

In which Van Palmer has to fulfill her Fine Arts requirement, and learns something about herself (and Jackie Taylor) in the process.

(van POV, slice-of-life/romance, T, pre-canon, ~6k words - tai/van, shauna/jackie (background))

still life

In the attic, before Tai leaves to find help, it's just her and Shauna and the secrets between them.

(tai POV, drama, M, missing scene (post-1x06 - saints), ~2.7k words - shauna & tai, tai/van (background), shauna/jackie (background))

for all debts public and private

Nat and Shauna glare at Lottie. She wants to mark it as another point in support of her plan, but the intensity gives her pause.

“Fine, I’ll spill. You two have been at each other’s throats for days. Normally, whatever—go with God and may the Force be with you—but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in sunny Trenton, New Jersey, to play state championship soccer.” Lottie leans forward. “And when you guys are fighting, you fucking suck at it.”

A misplaced ball sparks a feud between Shauna and Nat that threatens to derail the team’s championship hopes.

Lottie has a plan to get them to kiss and make up.

(lottie POV, sex comedy, E, pre-canon/canon divergence AU, ~17.4k words - lottieshaunanat, lottielee, jackieshauna)

gifts of the magi

Teamwork makes the dream work, but recognizing individual excellence is just good leadership.

Two times that Shauna Shipman is Lottie Matthews's most valuable teammate.

(shauna POV, horror, E, canon compliant through 2x02, ~6.9k words - shaunalee, shaunamari, shaunalottie)

closet cases

Have you seen her?

She hasn’t, she won’t, she never, ever will. She has finally done what her mother demanded and shed those pesky extra pounds and all she had to do was cut out half of herself and give it up to Jeff Sadecki and Providence, Rhode Island. All she had to do was become her mother in all the ways she never wanted.

Jackie’s anesthetic won’t fit in a row of pill bottles, of course, but a shoebox isn’t that much bigger.

Seven months after her world falls apart, Jackie Taylor returns to Wiskayok.

(jackie POV, drama, E, no crash AU, ~27.3k words - jackieshauna)

mirror, mirror

written for MistyNat Week (2023)

On the way back from Eden Falls, Nat tries to outrun her ghosts.

(Nat POV, drama, E, missing scene (post-1x03), ~3k words - mistynat)

fixer upper

Jackie Taylor has collected many labels over the twenty-two years of her relatively short life: daughter, friend, girlfriend, Yellowjacket, teammate, captain, plane crash survivor, Scarlet Knight, Tri-Delt. Now, only a handful of weeks after adding college graduate to her resumé, she can call herself a homeowner.

Freshly minted Rutgers graduate Jackie Taylor returns to Wiskayok to buy a house with her boyfriend. It could use some work, but what couldn’t?

Not to worry, though. Nat Scatorccio knows a guy.

written for Jackieshauna Weekend 2023

(jackie POV, drama/romance, E, rescued early AU, ~27.9k words - jackieshauna and assorted other ships)

this is how we do it

Against all odds, it’s Crystal the motherfucking Pistol who saves the day.

Melissa lets Crystal's light shine when Van's Walkman dies. Everything changes.

(melissa POV, humor/romance, M, canon divergence AU set during 1x05, ~9.4k words - genlissa, shaunahat, jackieshauna, crusti, shaunanat)

gethsemane

That girl, she holds her head up so high.

I think I want to be her best friend, yeah.

- Bikini Kill, “Rebel Girl”

(melissa POV, dead dove, E, extended scene (post-3x02), ~2.9k words - shaunahat)

Other Fandoms

the awkward age (Drive-Away Dolls)

written for the 2024 Yuletide Fic Exchange

After Tallahassee, Marian navigates the rocky shoreline of Jamie Dobbs.

(marian POV, romance, E, post-canon, ~4.2k words - marian/jamie)

not mine (Star Wars: Andor)

written for the 2023 Yuletide Fic Exchange

As Ferrix burns, Cinta Kaz fights one war and loses another.

(cinta POV, drama/character study, T, set during 1x12 - Rix Road, ~2.9k words - cinta/vel)

save the sea turtles (Bottoms (2023))

Hazel helps herself to PJ's curly fries; PJ helps herself to Hazel.

(PJ POV, humor/smut, extremely hard E, post-canon, ~7.1k words - pj/hazel)

pro hac vice (She-Hulk (2022))

written for the 2022 Yuletide Fic Exchange

Matt Murdock needs help on a case; Jennifer Walters doesn't mind taking a cross-country flight on short notice.

Hey, it's (almost) Christmas.

(jen POV, casefic, T, 5.5k words - jen/matt, nikki/mallory (implied))

Towards Grace (Perry Mason (2020))

written for the 2020 Yuletide Fic Exchange

Alice runs. Set during chapter 8.

(alice POV, T, ~1.6k words)

Metas of Note

Yellowjackets: A Not-So-Brief and Hopefully Canon-Accurate Explanation of the 1996 WHS Yellowjackets Soccer Team

[amarriageoftrueminds]

cannot stop thinking about an AU where Bucky gets the same treatment as Steve (ie. serumed and vitarayed.)

So he shoots up to 6' 8" or something ridiculous and is built like a brick shithouse. To everyone else he's almost Too Big, but to Steve it's just like being small again while Bucky is ...Large, and Steve is permanently flustered about it. 😳🥺

[uses-for-fics]

Rekindled | Manny Rivera

The scent of dry-erase markers and fresh off-the-printer paper filled YN’s classroom as she straightened the last set of desks. Any minute now, the district representative would arrive, and she felt like a nervous wreck. If she could prove that Abbott Elementary was a wonderful and supportive place for students, maybe, just maybe, the district would help with funding.

A soft knock at the door made her straighten her blazer and take a deep breath.

“Is this room 124?” a deep voice asked.

“Yes! You must be—” Her words caught in her throat as she turned to face him.

Manny Rivera.

He stepped inside, his presence knocking the air from her lungs. It had been years since their bittersweet goodbye in college, when they chose career paths over love. Now, he was standing in front of her. In her school. In her classroom.

His dark eyes flickered with recognition, mirroring the surprise on her face. But when he spoke, his tone was all business.

“I’m Manny Rivera, the district representative shadowing your classroom today.” He extended a hand.

For a split second, she hesitated. Then, schooling her features, she took his hand in a firm shake. “Mr. Rivera.” Her voice was steady, even as knots twisted in her stomach.

The air between them buzzed with unspoken words. She struggled to focus, her carefully planned pitch for funding slipping from her mind.

Sensing the shift, Manny cleared his throat and broke the silence. “So… what’s the lesson plan for today?” He rocked on his heels, a faint smile playing on his lips.

YN blinked, then forced herself to snap back into the moment. “Oh! Right.” She returned his smile. “I usually start by taking attendance, then move into some light yoga.”

Manny raised a brow. “Yoga?”

“I find it helps wake the kids up, especially since some of them come in still half-asleep. It gets their brains going in a healthy way—and gives latecomers a chance to settle in without missing important work.” She shrugged. “It happens to the best of us.”

His smile widened. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“After that, we’re continuing our lesson on vowels. I’ll give them a short four-question quiz to see who’s struggling and who’s ready to move on. Then it’s their turn at the library, recess, and later, a fun color-by-number activity—except they have to solve addition problems to get the numbers.”

As she spoke, her confidence returned, and her enthusiasm shone through.

Manny nodded, clearly impressed. “Sounds like a great plan. Just tell me where to sit, and the classroom is yours.”

Her nerves hadn’t completely faded, but as she gestured to a spot near her desk, one thought echoed in her mind: ‘This is going to be an interesting day.’

———

The morning went by smoothly, and soon enough, it was time for the vowel quiz. YN walked around the room as the students focused, her heels clicking softly against the tile floor.

As she passed one of the desks, she noticed a small hand shoot up hesitantly.

"Ms. LN?" a boy named Jordan whispered, glancing nervously at his paper.

She crouched beside him, offering a reassuring smile. "What’s up, buddy?"

"I… I think I don’t get number two," he admitted, chewing on his pencil. "But if I get it wrong, does that mean I fail?"

YN’s heart softened. She placed a gentle hand on his desk. "Oh, sweetheart, there’s no way to fail this. It’s just to see where everyone is, so I know how to help. You're learning, and that’s what matters."

Jordan still looked unsure, but before she could say more, Manny knelt beside them.

"You know, Jordan," Manny said, his voice warm, "when I was your age, I thought quizzes were scary too but, you know what helped?"

Jordan looked up at him, curious. "What?"

"Thinking of them as puzzles. You just take your time, figure out the pieces, and before you know it, everything clicks."

Jordan considered this, then nodded slowly and picked up his pencil again.

YN met Manny’s gaze, and for a moment, they shared a look—silent appreciation passing between them.

—At the Library—

The kids sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked onto Manny as he held up ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’. He was animated as he read, using different voices for each part, making the story come to life in a way that had the students giggling and hanging onto every word.

"Alright," Manny said, turning the page. "Who thinks this little guy can actually eat all this food?"

A few kids covered their mouths to suppress laughter, while others eagerly shook their heads.

"He’s gonna get a tummy ache!" one of them blurted out.

Manny gasped dramatically. "You think so? But what happens next?"

YN stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with an amused smile. He was a natural with the kids, effortlessly keeping their attention, something even seasoned teachers struggled with. The way he engaged them, encouraged their curiosity, it was… endearing. And, if she was being completely honest with herself, maybe even a little attractive.

"I saw that," came a voice from behind her.

YN nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to find Melissa Schemmenti standing next to a cart stacked high with books, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Saw what?" YN asked, feigning innocence.

Melissa arched a brow. "You checking out Mr. District Representative over there like he’s a brand-new book you’re thinking about borrowing."

"What?! No, I—" YN sputtered, her face heating up. "I was just—he’s observing my class, so I was—letting him observe!"

Melissa scoffed, reaching for a book on the cart. "More like you’re observing him." She shot YN a look before casually walking off toward the checkout desk, leaving her standing there, flustered, arms still awkwardly crossed over her chest.

YN exhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus on the kids again, on anything other than the way Manny’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows or how his voice softened when he spoke to the students.

Melissa wasn’t entirely wrong, but YN wasn’t about to admit that.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and tried—tried—to keep her emotions in check but as Manny caught her eye from across the room and gave her a small, knowing smile, she knew it was going to be harder than she thought.

———

"Go on, take your break," Ms. Teagues said, waving YN off with a knowing smile. "I’ll keep an eye on the little rascals."

YN hesitated, but the pile of vowel quizzes waiting on her desk was calling her name. "You’re a lifesaver."

She headed back inside, surprised to find Manny already at her desk, sleeves rolled up, flipping through the tests.

"You don’t have to do that," she said, setting down her coffee.

He smirked. "I know. But I figured I’d help."

He reached into his bag, pulling out a container. The scent hit her first. Warm, spicy, and familiar.

"Are those… enchiladas?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Homemade," he confirmed, opening the lid. "You want some?"

She hesitated, but the smell was too good to resist. "I mean… if you’re offering."

Manny was halfway through marking a paper when he spoke, almost absentmindedly.

"I miss you, you know."

YN froze, her pen hovering above the test she was grading. The words landed like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the air from her lungs. She blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

When she didn’t respond right away, Manny let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "I don’t mean to put you on the spot," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just… being here, watching you do what you love…it reminds me of how much I enjoyed being around you."

YN finally set her pen down, but she still couldn’t find the words to say.

Manny sighed and continued, his voice softer now. "But I don’t regret the path I chose after college. If I had to do it all over again, I would. Because I love my job. I love what I do, and I know you love what you do, too." He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "The only thing I ever really wished was that we could be on good terms, you know? That we could… not have this weight between us."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at something deep in her chest. Finally, YN smiled, small at first, then genuine. "Manny, I don’t resent you for choosing your career. I think it’s great that you love your job because… I love mine, too. And if things had gone differently, who knows where we’d be now? But the truth is, I only ever wished the best for you."

Manny looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

It was one of those rare silences that wasn’t awkward, but rather filled with a quiet understanding. A moment suspended in time, where the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future seemed to hang in the air between them.

His gaze flickered down to her lips for just a second before he cleared his throat and looked away, a small, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door suddenly swung open.

"Hey, YN! Sorry to interrupt," Jacob called out, stepping inside with a handful of supplies. "Do you have any extra glue sticks? I kinda miscalculated my science activity supply list, and now I’m in a bit of a bind—literally."

YN let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she stood up. "Yeah, Jacob. Check the supply cabinet."

Manny took the interruption as a cue. He pushed back from the desk, stretching as he stood. "I should get going anyway."

YN looked up at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled, softer this time. "But I’ll be back tomorrow. Gotta monitor more classes, after all."

As he walked to the door, he hesitated for just a second before turning back.

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Ln."

She smirked. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Rivera."

And just like that, he was gone but the feeling he left behind? That lingered.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith

Chapter 6: A Deal with the Devil

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt, Foggy, and Karen take you out to Josie's. Your night always ends with Daredevil.

Warnings for this chapter: very mild smut at the end, sorry to leave you guys hanging, LOL.

A/N: I love writing Foggy Nelson. That is all.

TAG LIST (please let me know if I missed you/you'd like to be tagged!): @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn

Chapter 5 here

credit to gif owner!

 Hell’s Kitchen

Nelson & Murdock was an interesting law firm to work at. There was no rhyme or reason to the things they did or the way they operated, but you adapted fairly quickly to the revolving door of clients and how to speak to them. For now, Karen had you complete intake forms with everyone who came in. Greet them, ask them why they’re here, things like that. You enjoyed it a lot. 

“Thank you so much, Ms. Cruz,” you squeezed the elderly woman’s arm. “I’ll get your case details in our system and set up a meeting with either Mr. Nelson or Mr. Murdock.”

The older woman smiled at you graciously. “Gracias, señorita.” 

You stood up from your chair and walked over to Karen who fervently typed away at her computer. 

“Okay, all ten of the clients waiting are now ready to be inputted into the system,” you told her, holding a stack of manila folders and a clipboard. Karen looked up from her desk surprised. 

“Really?! You are amazing!” Karen exclaimed. You blushed and smiled at her, appreciating her praise. “I’ll have to get you your own laptop so you can learn how the system works. Seriously, how did you get through all of them without any issues?” 

You shrugged, “good old speaking like a human. I was never good with a customer service voice. It’s all about the approach, you know?” 

“Yes!” Karen smiled. “I’m so happy you’re here. I know Foggy and Matt are, too.” 

You smiled in return. You believed her, that she and Foggy were happy you were here. Matt, on the other hand, was a little strange. You didn’t want to make any assumptions, and you tried to be understanding. But he was very quiet around you, and never really tried to make any conversation like Karen and Foggy did. You found yourself going to them for questions first before you ever had to ask Matt something, which rarely happened. He was intimidating. The most you ever got out of him was an “excuse me” or “good morning.” Never anything more, never anything less. 

While the other two were very bright and bubbly, Matt seemed to always be in his own world. He didn’t join in any conversations you had with them, and he never offered help as Foggy did. You didn’t mind; you were just worried it might have been you he didn’t like. Then again, he was blind, so you knew his world was very different from your own. You didn’t let it get to you, and you just accepted that he was more guarded than the others. 

Karen flipped through the pages of clients you had just interviewed. Her brows were furrowed—her mind was going a million miles a minute. 

“Looks like this pile will be handled by Matt and this one, Foggy. Looks like Matt’s the winner today,” she realized. “I’ll give these to Foggy and run it by him. You can talk to Matt about his cases.” 

“Oh, uh, you sure? I…,” you trailed off, unsure what it was you were trying to object to. Your gaze fell toward Matt’s office. He was at his desk, brows furrowed with focus as his fingers ran over braille. 

Karen looked at you knowingly. “I know Matt’s quiet, but trust me, it’s not you. He’s just a little bit more focused at work. Not that we’re all not focused, but his focus is a little different.” 

You nodded, “I understand. I’ll run these cases by him.” 

“Let me know if you need anything, alright?” 

I need a drink, you thought. “Okay.” 

You turned on your heel and held the manilla folders in your hands, bracing yourself. You took a deep breath and walked to Matt’s office door, and knocked on it gently. 

“Come in,” he called out. 

You slowly opened the door and walked inside, gently shutting it behind you. 

“It’s me, __,” you announced slightly awkwardly. Matt smiled a little, behind his dark red glasses. 

“I know,” he replied, “I can recognize voices.” 

“Oh,” you said, nodding your head. Damn it, he can’t see a nod. “I—well, Karen said I should run by these new clients with you. I don’t know what she meant by it, but she said you’re the winner today.” 

“Hmm,” Matt hummed. “Means most of the cases are intentional torts. Please, sit,” he said in a friendly tone. Slightly caught off guard by his kindness, you sat in the chair in front of his desk. This conversation is the most you’ve spoken with Matt ever since you started just a few weeks ago. A memory popped into your head. You had shared an awkward encounter with Matt as he was leaving work one day—you asked if he needed help closing up anything but he was in a rush, and barely replied to you as he rushed out the door. 

“So, the first person I spoke with, Anna Campbell, has a claim her neighbor is taking pictures of her in her house…uh…” you flipped through the pages and cleared your throat. “Negligent employer case…assault outside of a club that may have been intentional and not a random crime of opportunity…” You read through the rest of the clients you just spoke with and watched Matt carefully for any reaction. He sat like a statue, with his brows scrunched and lips slightly pressed together, as he listened to you. His hands were together, fingers interlocked. You continued to speak. 

“Ms. Marisol Cruz. She was such a sweet woman. I feel really bad for her. She’s in a terrible apartment complex, with a high criminal element, and the landlord won’t listen or do anything about it. There are kids in the place, and she’s worried about them,” you explained Ms. Cruz’s story in more detail to Matt, since you felt a little more compassionate to her. You probably weren’t supposed to, but you couldn’t help it. “Her landlord says he needs proof of the element, or he won’t do anything. And she’s a frail woman, and she can’t do anything.”  

Matt stayed quiet for a moment longer. 

“Thank you, __,” Matt said after a bit. You smiled. 

You placed the files on his desk. 

“Oh,” you said, startling yourself, “you probably need these translated to braille. I’ll transfer them with the printer.” 

Matt smiled and stood up from his desk. His hands rested on his waist. Maybe the reason why you were so intimidated by Matt was because of how handsome you found him. His dress shirt fit snugly on his body, and the rare moments you did catch his smile, made your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit. 

“I appreciate that,” he cooly said. 

“Okay well, I’ll get on that now.” You turned to exit his office, but he called your name rather softly. 

“Just—just a word of advice,” he began to say, “I know it may be easy to feel more compassionate for some cases more than others. That can be a good thing. But it can also be dangerous. Don’t take the work home with you, is what I’m trying to say.” 

You considered his words for a moment and nodded in understanding. 

“I won’t,” you replied, “I promise.” 

He smiled lightly before sitting back down again. You left his office.

⣿⣿⣿⣿

After a busy afternoon at Nelson & Murdock, you found yourself in the conference room, transferring all the files you had today into the system they used. You were focused as you input all the information, listening to music as you did. Suddenly, Foggy came into the room. 

“There she is, the superstar client coordinator!” Foggy announced with a clap. You pulled your headphone out of your ear and smiled at him. Foggy had a way of radiating warmth and vibrant energy—you loved working with him. “I heard you got through everyone pretty quickly.” 

“I did!” you said, “it was quite enjoyable. I like talking to people and listening to them.” 

“That’s good. Great! Well, I came in here because, it’s six o’clock, Friday night, and you’re still working,” Foggy analyzed, rubbing his chin. “Aren’t you crazy kids supposed to be getting in all sorts of trouble?” 

You laughed, and then Karen came into the room. 

“She’s not a crazy kid, Foggy,” she defended, “she’s a bright, intelligent young woman who is bound to do great things in life.” You smiled at Karen. 

“I know, I know. But seriously, you’re still working?!” 

You shrugged, “I’m waiting for the okay to go home! Besides, I don’t want to leave anything unfinished.”

“Well, you've been doing so well. We wanted to show our thanks in the only way we know how—Josie’s!” Foggy raised a finger in the air. 

“Josie’s?” You questioned.

“It's a dive bar in the Kitchen we like to go to,” Karen explained. “We’d love to take you out and celebrate. Of course, if you don’t already have plans.” 

The only plan you could think of involved a man in a black mask and your rooftop—but you didn’t say that. 

“I don’t have any plans, actually,” you answered, straightening up a bit. “I’d love to join you guys at Josie’s!” You leaped at the opportunity to get to know Karen and Foggy more. And—Matt just walked in. 

“I’m heading out,” Matt said, in his usual serious tone. You hated how your heartbeat picked up at the sight of him, with his cane in his hand and bag on his shoulder. Part of you was disappointed he wouldn’t join you at Josie’s. 

“Oh, come on, Matt,” Foggy sighed. “You owe us one! Last time, you promised next time. You’re coming out, buddy!” 

“Yeah, come on, we’re taking __ out!” Karen added. You pressed your lips together, awaiting his response. Matt sheepishly smiled. 

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed, after a short while. 

“Atta boy,” Foggy patted his back. You began to clean up your workspace as Foggy and Karen left the room. Matt lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame. You watched him carefully as you gathered your things. You went to the bathroom to fix your appearance. Your hair was still styled, more or less, when you curled it this morning. You straightened your button-down white shirt that was tucked into your black slacks. You sprayed on your marshmallow-scented perfume and decided this was as good as it was going to get. 

Exiting the bathroom, Matt still stood in the doorway but now Foggy and Karen joined him; they were waiting for you. 

“Ready,” you stated.

“Huzzah!” Foggy exclaimed. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

Josie’s

Josie’s wasn’t too far from the office. You stayed walking with Karen while Foggy and Matt walked slightly ahead, Matt holding onto Foggy’s elbow as his cane tapped in front of him. When you saw the buzzing red light that read JOSIE’S in the window, it was obvious you reached the destination. 

“Before we enter, we must knight __ for this is her first time at Josie’s, which is a special event, indeed,” Foggy spoke in a British accent. Matt laughed, flashing the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on him. It made sense: if there was one person who could crack him open, it was Foggy Nelson. You had a feeling tonight you’d learn about their history. 

After Foggy “knighted” you, he opened the door and you were immediately met with an intense smell of smoke, old wood, and sweat. Pool cues clacked and barstools groaned from years of being sat on. Someone spilled a pitcher of beer on the floor. It was overwhelmingly hot and stuffy in here—you rolled up your sleeves. 

“Welcome to Josie’s,” Karen smiled cheerfully. “What do you drink?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “I’ll try a martini. Three olives.” 

“I don't know about that,” Foggy said, “the olives part. I would hold the olives.” 

“Alrighty, a martini, hold the olives.” 

“And what kind of shots do we want?” 

“…tequila?” You suggested. Foggy groaned. 

“Let’s see if I still got it. Four shots of tequila, please!” 

Foggy and Karen lingered by the bar, getting an older woman’s attention, whom you assumed was Josie. She had brown and gray hair and a slightly suspicious look. You stood holding your bag, looking around the place. Matt was so quiet, you didn’t realize he was standing next to you. 

“Should we find a spot to sit while they order?” You suggested casually. Matt turned his head in your direction, nodding slightly. 

“Lead the way,” he said. You mirrored what Foggy did earlier when he offered his arm for Matt to hold. You gently touched Matt’s arm with your elbow. You couldn’t tell if he was startled, but he was quite hesitant. However, he did latch gently to your elbow as if you were a piece of paper, and you walked him over to a table in the middle of the bar, close to the wall. He reached his hands out for the table and felt for it as he placed his briefcase on the chair. You wrapped the strap of your bag on your chair and sat a seat away from him, intentionally. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you’re used to,” Matt suddenly spoke, trying to initiate conversation. You looked at him amused. 

“What do you mean?” You smiled. 

“I—,” he stuttered a bit, “I just mean kids your age probably go out to fancier clubs than this.” 

“I’m not a kid,” you gently corrected. “I may be fresh out of college but I’m sure I’m not that much younger than you guys.” 

“Sorry,” he said. “You’re right.” 

“And you’d be surprised…I can enjoy a dive bar every now and then. I actually think I like them better than what my friends and I are used to. You can at least have conversations at places like this.” 

“Then, why don’t you go to them more often?” 

“Whatever the majority vote is. I never luck out.” 

Suddenly, Foggy came with a tray of drinks while Karen carried over the shots. Foggy lined the drinks and shots up and returned the tray. Karen found her seat next to Matt while Foggy sat next to you. 

“To Nelson and Murdock’s newest and brightest!” Foggy cheered. Everyone took their shots. You felt the tequila burn down your throat as you grimaced. It was like no other tequila you had before. And you’ve had plenty. 

“Yeah,” Foggy agreed when he saw your reaction, “Josie’s got the hard stuff.” 

“Is that even tequila? It tasted like straight-up poison,” you shook your head. “Let’s get another round.” 

Foggy laughed, “I may not be able to keep up, but I’m up for the challenge!” 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

For some reason, spending time with Karen, Foggy, and Matt felt like you were being officially christened into their work group—you were officially a part of Nelson & Murdock. You wanted to pace yourself since you were with your bosses, but Foggy insisted on more shots and drinks—something you found hard to say “no” to. 

You learned that Matt and Foggy met at law school. Columbia, no less. Your dream school. Foggy promised he’d write you a stellar letter of recommendation when the time came. Matt agreed as well, to your surprise. 

“Really?” You asked. “You guys would do that for me?” 

“Of course, Young Padawan,” Foggy said in a Yoda voice. You laughed. “In all seriousness though, you’d kill it at Columbia. Right, Matt?” 

“Right,” Matt agreed, almost immediately. You were thankful he couldn’t see your blush, and everyone else was too drunk to notice. 

As the night went on, Foggy and Karen got up to dance and then challenged other bar-goers to a round of pool. Matt sat in his corner, his hand wrapped around a cold beer. At this point in the night, you ditched your button-down shirt and only wore your undershirt.

Although he was quiet, his presence was anything but. It was like he had some sort of force field around him; the closer you sat next to him, the more prone you were to be sucked into it. You made no attempts to get yourself away. You pretended to be engaged in watching Foggy and Karen play pool, shouting whenever Foggy hit a striped ball. 

Part of you wanted to join them, but the other part wanted to stay next to Matt. Maybe tonight was the icebreaker you needed to figure out why he was so different around you compared to everyone else. 

“Would you like another beer? I’ll go get another round,” you offered. 

“Oh uh, yes, please.” 

When you came back from the bar, you placed the beer in front of Matt and sat in the chair next to him. You clinked your glass on his. 

“Cheers,” you said quietly. 

Matt offered a small smile. “Cheers,” he returned. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 9 o’clock already. If you were home, you’d probably be getting ready to see Mike. You worried about missing him tonight. At least, you kept the burner phone he gave you in your bag. He’s only a call away but for emergencies. Pushing the thought away, you tried to be more present. Karen hit a striped ball and high-fived Foggy. The two men they were playing looked slightly disappointed in how good your bosses were doing. More people had filtered into Josie’s and it only grew more stuffy. 

“Thank you for the time you’ve put in with us,” suddenly Matt spoke. “It doesn’t go unnoticed, as you can see. Especially with Karen. I know she’s really happy with you here.” 

“I’m just as grateful for the opportunity,” you shrugged, feeling a warmth spread in your chest at his comment. On second thought, maybe the tequila was finally catching up to you. 

“Did you have any other places you were looking at?” 

“A few, but no one got back to me. I suppose getting a job at a firm in the city is harder than it looks." 

“Even Foggy and I struggled for a bit. We had a job at Landman & Zack lined up, but we ended up going on our own way. You’ll end up just where you’re supposed to be,” Matt said in a bit of a reminiscent way. You softened at his words. 

“You and Foggy seem like you’ve been through a lot together,” you observed, “it wasn’t always easy, was it?” 

Matt paused for a moment, and tilted his head—something you noticed over the past few weeks working with him. As if he was really considering your words and thinking of a way to respond. 

“It wasn’t,” he agreed, after a little while, “but if the people stay with you through the tough times, you know it was worth it. Or, you find a reason to make it worth it—for them.” 

You hummed in response. 

Matt took a sip of his beer. He listened as you got up from your seat to join Karen and Foggy after they called for you. 

⣿⣿⣿⣿

It was strange for him to talk to you like this in a public setting—as Matt Murdock, your boss, and not as “Mike”, your savior, as you called him. When you left your seat, he heard something ruffle in your bag—the phone he’d given you for emergencies. Good. She keeps it on her. 

He’d been avoiding you at the office and he knew you picked up on it after a few days. It was for the better, he thought. The more distance he kept from you there, the less likely it would be you’d put two and two together—if you could. It was to be cautious and to make sure his secret stayed a secret. You stayed his secret. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, perhaps it was lying, perhaps that was all true. Even if Matt wanted to reveal who he really was to you, there’s no guessing how you’d react. To put it simply, Matt dug himself even deeper the day Karen said she’d hire you and he didn’t make any effort to convince her to not. 

And the more he saw you at night, the more he couldn’t stay away. God, you were all-consuming to him. He found his new altar and it was your lips. His prayer, your name. Whatever the affair was, his new religion. It was cliche to say, but it was true: it felt so right with you. So right, and perfect, and whenever something so good falls into Matt Murdock’s lap, he always finds a way to convince himself he’s undeserving of it. He wants to be with you. He wants to keep you. But things are just so chaotically fucked up now, now that you work with him and he has to lie to you every day like he doesn’t want to pin you against the wall in his office and kiss your entire body. 

Matt clenched his jaw uncomfortably, pushing the thought away. That’s another reason why he must avoid you; to avoid thinking like this at work. It was hard enough that you were there. 

Being with you during the day was interesting. You were so different professionally, so polite and smart. Thoughtful, he decided. Nothing like the girl he came to see at night, who didn’t hold back a bite and wasn’t afraid of confrontation. He liked that girl just as much as the version he got at the office, though. It was like he was with two different people—and then he thought that he was basically playing two different people with you, too. Except, he realizes his unfair advantage. 

At the office, you were subtle with your actions—careful and alert. How you went out of your way to make sure documents were translated to braille for him, how you took your time with each client in the waiting room…yes, of course, Matt listened to you when you were with them. He always did. And quite frankly, he was impressed with how you carried yourself. Putting his feelings aside for you, and what it was that you shared, he truly thought you were a good employee—a promising future attorney. 

But God, was it hard to pretend to not know what your lips felt like. How hard it is for him to pretend he couldn’t care less when really, you’re all he cares about these days. 

And here you were, coming by his side again, and he has to put on the facade all over again—another mask, he thought ironically, to pretend around you. For the first time ever, he felt a heavy weight press on his heart. No, this wasn’t fair to you at all. 

“Hey, Matt,” you called for him, and he decided he loved to hear you call him by his real name. Your voice was lighter than it was before, actually lighter than it has been at the office, whenever you spoke to him. Maybe a night like tonight at Josie’s needed to happen—so Matt could feel more comfortable around you as Matt. He felt a wall crumbling inside him.  

“Yeah?” He answered. 

“We’re going to take one more round of shots and then step outside for fresh air. Are you in?” 

Matt smiled. 

“Yeah. I’m in.”

⣿⣿⣿⣿

12 AM 

Foggy hailed a cab for you to get home. You managed to get inside your apartment to find it empty, with nothing but a half-filled bottle of tequila on the counter and red solo cups. Your friends went out again, but you didn’t care. You were on cloud nine after tonight, having the best time with your new co-workers, and feeling better that maybe the one you were afraid of really liked you after all. 

And then, you thought of him. Mike. 

Would he be up there? It didn’t hurt to try… 

Before you stumbled up the steps to the roof, you changed into something a little more comfortable. Sweat shorts and a tank top. 

Now that summer was in full effect, nights remained humid. Your tank top stuck to the sweat on your skin. What were the chances of him actually coming tonight? 

Apparently, very likely. As you turned the corner, you jumped to see him already waiting for you, dressed in his usual black outfit—face covered. 

“Jesus,” You exclaimed and held your hand to your heart. 

“Language,” Mike said smugly as he stepped into the light. You smiled. 

“Don’t get all righteous on me now,” you teased, “I believe you are way past that.” 

Mike snaked a strong arm around your waist and pulled you into him. He kissed you softly and slowly—different from the way he normally kisses you, which was more ravenous in nature. You matched his nature, and placed your hands on either side of his face, holding him steady as you kissed. 

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. 

“You’re quiet again,” you breathed. “Why?” 

“You make me feel calm,” he told you. The way his lips moved when he spoke was mesmerizing, inviting you to kiss him again. You did. You teased your tongue on his bottom lip. Mike groaned faintly. 

“Calm isn’t something I’m used to,” Mike continued, chasing your lips with a kiss. “And when I feel something I’m not used to, but that I like, those things tend to slip from my grasp just as I got a good hold on them.” 

You contemplated his words for a moment and realized what he meant. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you truthfully said. “I…like what we have.” 

“But,” Mike guided, knowing you had more to say. 

“But… most people in affairs know who exactly they’re dealing with.” 

Mike turned his masked face away from you. You knew that was the only answer you’d get. 

“Not yet,” he spoke quietly, “I can’t reveal myself yet.” 

“But why? You think I’ll think you’re ugly?” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but you realized you even failed yourself. The more you got in deeper with Mike, the more it hurt, knowing this was all you’d get out of him: late nights on your rooftop, kisses you’d never experienced with anyone else—feelings you didn’t know you could feel so intensely that it felt like your mind suffocated with thoughts of him. Him. You didn’t even know who he was. But he had you in the palm of his hand. 

“Do you want to stop? With this, with me?” He asked ardently. 

“What kind of question is that? No, I don’t want to stop seeing you,” you argued. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No,” he replied almost instantly. “But we should reach an agreement on this. You have to be okay with me not being ready to reveal myself. And you have to know that my not revealing myself has nothing to do with how I feel about you and how much I trust you.” 

“How do you feel about me?” You couldn’t help but ask him. The corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

“Like I’ve never felt for anyone before,” Mike whispered and kissed you, deeply, slowly again. “Just give me the time I need.” 

“Okay,” you agreed. “You’ve got a deal. As long as you keep coming to me.” 

“I’ll never stop,” Mike promised. 

You ran your hands along his strong torso. You could feel the sweat under his shirt. You slid your hands under his shirt and felt his skin—soft, and… scarred. You gasped as your fingers traced along a gash, that’s since healed. You felt another one on his rib cage and another on his chest. You gasped again. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s from another life.” 

“That’s… scary,” you said in a small voice. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told you gently. “It’s different these days.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I expected to see you one night and you didn’t come…”

“I’ll always come to you,” Mike stated. “Until there comes a day you don’t want me to.” 

“That day will never come, I can assure you that.” 

He kissed you more and ran his fingers through your hair, tugging a little so your neck was revealed to him. You shivered as he kissed along your neck, slowly, antagonizing. You ran your fingers along his back and closed your eyes. 

You didn’t want your nights to be anything but this. 

You lifted your left leg and he grabbed it to wrap around his waist, holding your back to steady you. He gently laid you on the ground. 

“Can I…take this off?” He asked, gesturing to your shorts. You laughed. 

“Will someone see us?” 

“No one will see us. They might hear you though.” 

“Take them off.” 

Mike slowly pulled your shorts and underwear off, and you were completely exposed to him in a dark corner of your roof. You wished you brought a blanket. Mike began to kiss your inner thighs, slowly, reaching closer up to your legs and your wetness. You let your mind drift off, thinking of the deal you’d just made with him. You weren’t completely truthful about being okay with not knowing who he is. But your connection and feelings for him were stronger than your fears of what could happen—you’d teach yourself to be okay with it. 

But your discomfort was quickly replaced with euphoria when you felt his lips kiss your sex, and his tongue began to lap at your wetness slowly and then urgently. You sighed blissfully, closing your eyes. You suddenly couldn’t care less about your worries. 

[daredevilmade]

WHERE is all the Matt/Heather Daredevil fanfic tell me why no one has written a SINGLE fic with Heather I need her

[erinptah]

Madisynn with two N's and a Y, but it's not where Google Docs Spellcheck thi-iiinks~

(text from Reveals 34: Dark Dimension)

[catboykilljoy97]

Bruce Banner dog appreciation post

[ykw-f-it]

This show's not THAT terrible...

Hear me out:

if she just struggled a bit more through the show, and had a more complicated (difficult for her) finale...

She Hulk finale (ykw-f-it's Version):

She's in that salon or something (I watched this a long time ago, so I don't remember it very well), with Abomination and all those guys. Hulk arrives to save the day, but she doesn't like it so she pauses the action and literally gets out of her show, passing through the Disney Plus interface and ending up in that weird place, talking with K.E.V.I.N.

NOW! This is what happened in the actual show, but next she wouldn't just say “I want another ending” and we'd fast forward to them having lunch (I think that's what happened? I don't wanna watch it again..., please). HOWEVER, in my version she'd say to K.E.V.I.N. she wanted to change the ending, so she'd come back to her show and stop all the people who are fighting, she'd sit them, she'd put on some formal clothes... and she'd have a trial.

She would do what's she's best in: being a lawyer.

Some character could get angry and try to fight, so we'd have our little battle, but she'd put them in their seat and continue the trial.

I know it's not super interesting, and it's not a huge upgrade, but at least she'd have to actually do something in her show to solve the problem; we'd see her struggle to defend her client (herself, I guess). It wouldn't be a typical Marvel epic finale, but it could still be good (we, as an audience, love those scenes of intense dramatic trials: “To Kill a Mockingbird”, “Love and Death”, even that scene in “Scent of a Woman”).

[avengerphobic]

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Jazinda/Jennifer Walters

Jazinda comes back to Earth to pick up where she left off with Jen. Jen has a habit of wearing very short skirts.

[bigbadripley]

Normal People - Prologue

Marc Spector&Co. x Ex!F!OC, F!OC x Husband!Miguel O'Hara

Summary: Two and a half years have passed since Simone lost Marc and consequentially, her place in this world. As she begins to find it; however, the revolving door of tragedy spins again. Violence and liquor become her coping mechanism as she sinks deeper into her darkest era, but Simone learned a lesson years ago: nobody stays dead forever.

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT |   Warnings: Language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. Angst, reference to smut, mention of death, reference to violence, use of alcohol, miscommunications, infidelity, hurt/comfort, established relationship, multiversal and time travel, survivor's guilt, death equivalent

Words: 1.8K

A/N: I'm putting the prologue on Tumblr but the rest and what is to come is on Ao3 here along with the first 2 works (this is the third installment) The first work in its entirety is on tumblr here and most of the second. I won't be posting this work beyond this sample on here.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

" The devil came back He's dancing in your path So you're acting like you need me now, hey So tell me if I'm mad There's something in your laugh That makes me fear the way you smile It's hard to believe sometimes We can pretend we're normal people " -"Normal People" by Joji

It felt like his body was inside of a vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Stiff, fighting against whatever held him in place. He could hardly breathe, due to both the weight on top of his chest and the moist soil surrounding his mouth and nose. In the same vein, he couldn't open his eyes or yell for help.

He willed his brittle bones and creaky joints to work again, wiggling his shoulders, neck, arms, and legs to loosen the dirt and reintroduce blood flow throughout his limbs. Once he could feel his hands, he was able to push further, ripping tough grassroots as he freed up space just for it to be refilled by endless earth. His muscles ached already from the efforts, but he needed to be free.

Whilst he struggled against the ground, he started to hear a faint voice over him. It sounded older, and he couldn't make out what they were saying. They continued to speak, uninterrupted by the sound of a shovel sinking and slicing through the land above.

"Don't work too hard, I got you." He was finally able to comprehend the words as daylight peeked through and he pushed the rest of his way out, swiping away at the granules around his eyes. The man who dug him out was George Humbletoes, the mortician who handled his burial arrangements. He looked a bit more gray now than the last time he saw him. "It's about time, Mr. Knight. I was beginning to believe you'd never be back." He said with a wan smile.

Marc began to hoist himself out of the hole, taking note of the brown, dead grass that covered the ground and the flat, moss-grown headstone that read:

Marc Spector

Son ~ Protector ~ Friend

"How long have I been out?" He asked as he sat down and caught his breath heavily. His lungs ached along with the rest of his unused body, even more than normal. George leaned on his shovel and thought about the question for a moment, referring to the date on the gravestone to help with his answer.

"About two and a half years." He said nonchalantly.

Years? Marc thought to himself, nearly saying it aloud amid his huffing and puffing. God, what have I missed?

At first, this wasn't cause for much alarm until his neurons began firing in a way only he could. He thought about the city, Khonshu, Reese-

Moni. He thought to himself, remembering his final interaction with her was shoving her through the gates of Osiris. Forcing her to come back here without him. That was when he didn't think he would be back, himself. It was strange, one moment being in the Field of Reeds and the next being in the dirt with the worms.

Marc began gathering himself to his feet, rickety old bones be damned. He had to find Moni. Had to see what became of the mission in his absence. Two and a half years is a long time to be gone.

"Woah, don't rush. Get your sea legs back first." George spoke with concern, but Marc ignored him and continued to frantically stand and start walking.

"I have to go."

Running through the streets, Marc was able to reach the mission without a word said to him by anyone in the neighborhood. He had his usual white suit on, but the mask was nowhere to be seen. He was covered head to toe in dirt, there were pebbles in his shoes, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach Steven or Jake.

Upon stumbling across the mission, he realized that it wasn't that anymore. It had been repurposed into a Spirit Halloween, which told him it was nearing the holiday.

Nearing Moni's birthday.

This took him to his next stop, being a newspaper stand. The date was October 20th, but that was no longer his greatest concern when he noticed his vestments on the front page, only fitted to a more feminine form. Whoever wore them was pictured hanging 8-Ball from a building by chains wrapped around his body. It was sloppy and could have been accomplished privately just as effectively unless this individual was trying to send a message.

The headline read 'Clinic Burgeler Found!' and off the side, there was a blue box with red text inside that read 'Still No Spidey? See page 7.' Indicating that the web-head hadn't been seen publically in a while. Marc never really cared for the guy, but he was good at his job.

"You gonna buy it or keep gawkin'?" The man running the stand asked. This was Marc's queue to put it back and proceed to his next stop- Moni's apartment. This would prove to be fruitless as well, as when he knocked on the door and a totally different woman with a toddler on her hip answered, he knew she was no longer living there. Asking if the blonde woman knew where the previous tenant went didn't help either.

This left him with one last spot to look, and that was her office. Once he arrived, he was disheartened by the sign on the door that read 'Alias Investigations' , now the office of Jessica Jones and freshly-licensed private investigator Kate Bishop. Last he checked, Jessica worked alone unless he was with Luke.

Marc nearly lost hope there. Moni moved out of her apartment, moved offices, and there were no leads. He had no cell phone or he would try the number he knew by memory.

She may as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. He thought to himself before he peered over at the office next door to Alias to find 'Nelson and Murdock' still stamped onto the glass of the door. The prideful side of him didn't want to speak to Murdock, knowing what he knew now, but it was his only tip.

Hope walk-ins are welcome. He thought as he turned the nob and proceeded inside. At the desk was a blonde woman with the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen, speaking on the phone and writing something down. She regarded him with a smile and a finger in the air that told him she would only be a moment.

His gaze darted around the office and caught the blind lawyer through a window on the left. Marc stormed into the door of the small office space like a bat out of hell, strangely startling the receptionist more than the man in the sunglasses.

"Murdock, it's Marc." He announced, letting the attorney know who he was straight out of the gate. Matt stood, shocked, not only with his being alive but his being at his place of practice. For a moment, he didn't believe it, but the smell of fresh soil and the oh-so-familiar sound of the fabric of his expensive suit confirmed it for him.

" Marc ? How are you alive?"

"I don't know, but listen, I'm trying to find Moni. Can you tell me where she might be right now?" He asked, scrambling for answers. His rushing made Matt stammer,

"Uh, shit. If I had to guess, either at Josie's or her apartment." Matt advised before realizing that Marc wouldn't know where that apartment was. Though, he had been there before, what seemed like a lifetime ago now. "The Rothwell building, quote-unquote luxury apartments."

That bland shithole? Marc thought to himself, making the connection that he had been there, but not the reason. The last thing he caught Murdock say was the apartment number before he bolted out like a man on a mission.

Simone awoke from a not-so-deep sleep, stretching her achy muscles and yawning. Her joints and jaw cracked and popped like she was made of glowsticks.

Another fuckin' day in paradise. She thought to herself as she did every morning. As she attempted to check the time on her phone, picking it up off of the nightstand, she remembered it had been destroyed beyond repair; the screen smashed and revealing some of the mechanisms inside, slightly bent backward at the center. I'll get a new one later.

For now, the shower was calling her name. Once inside, the warm water soothed her sore limbs as it washed away the dried blood that sat on her skin for the few hours she had to rest. As the water around the drain turned pale pink, she examined herself to find that it was the other guy's and not her own.

Once all the residue of the late night and early morning activities was rinsed away down to the bit that had somehow caked under her short fingernails, she got out and toweled off without reason to linger. It was just another normal step in her routine and as she slipped on a pair of tight athletic pants, she was sure of it.

Until there was a loud knock at her door. That part was unusual and made her groan as she threw a loose black top over her bare chest that simply said 'Trophy Husband' on the front in white letters. It was a gag gift, but it was comfortable. The knocking persisted, growing heavier as if the person on the other side was looking to punch it off its hinges. They clearly didn't know who they were getting the attention of.

"I'm coming! Jesus Christ , guy." She yelled out as she heavily trudged to the source of the sound. It made them stop, which was a relief but did nothing to rid her of her displeasure. With that, she swung the door open in an attempt to intimidate them, ready to scold the rude visitor.

Said visitor made her freeze in place with wide eyes like a deer in the headlights. She had faced many enemies as of late, of all sizes and creeds, but nothing made her feel more terrified than what stood before her.

"What the fuck." She muttered with disbelief as she stared at the face a phantom. It was Marc motherfucking Spector, wearing the suit she buried him in. Only he wasn't a ghost. He was very much a physical presence, covered head to toe in soil. It was a dream she had had numerous times and had half a mind to pinch herself if it wouldn't make her look like a chump.

Simone wasn't the only one shocked by what she was seeing. Marc's mind was racing, examining the woman she tossed out of the Duat seemingly the day before. Both of her arms were covered in full-sleeve tattoos and she had chunky strands of silver running through her dark, now shoulder-length wavy hair which was a gift from her mother, who also started graying prematurely. His own observing was cut short by her speaking again,

"Marc? What the fuck !" She exclaimed a bit louder than she meant, backing up out of the doorway and nearly falling as she stumbled.

Zombies weren't on my bingo card for the year. She thought to herself, preparing to fight as the figure before her continued to stare blankly and follow her inside.

[agentscamander-romanoff]

I am rewatching episode 7 of "She-Hulk" and I think it would be hillarious if Emil Blonsky would lead a group therapy session for superhuman teams like Avengers and/or Defenders

[uses-for-fics]

Rumors | Augustus “Pug” Pugliese

YN had heard plenty about Augustus “Pug” Pugliese around the office. Everyone seemed to adore him. The interns called him “the nicest guy here,” the associates praised his work ethic, and even the notoriously grumpy HR manager cracked a rare smile when Pug’s name was mentioned. He was practically a legend at GLK&H.

But despite working at the same firm for six months, YN had never actually met him. She’d seen him in passing—a flash of his kind smile, his quick “hey, how’s it going?” in the hallway—but that was the extent of their interaction.

So, when the firm announced a team-building event, and YN’s friend Nikki informed her Pug would definitely be there, her nerves hit an all-time high.

“You’re going to love him,” Nikki said as she shoved a stack of papers into her bag. “He’s literally the best and knowing you, you’ll hit it off instantly.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” YN muttered, clutching her coffee cup like a lifeline. She wasn’t exactly the smoothest person in social situations—especially not with someone she’d heard so much about.

---

The event was at a swanky rooftop bar downtown, complete with string lights, a live band, and a breathtaking view of the city skyline. YN arrived early, hoping to ease her nerves with a glass of wine before the crowd arrived.

She’d just settled into a corner when she saw Pug walk in, looking effortlessly cool in a crisp button-up shirt and slacks. He greeted everyone he passed with a warm smile, and YN swore she saw him give someone a fist bump.

“Oh, no,” she whispered to herself, already feeling her nerves creeping in.

Pug didn’t notice her right away, which was fine by YN. She figured she’d just quietly blend into the background and maybe—

“YN, there you are!” Nikki’s voice rang out, loud and cheerful.

Pug turned toward them, and YN’s heart skipped a beat. Nikki waved him over.

No, no, no, no, no—

Before she could think of an escape plan, Pug was standing in front of her, all six feet of charm and warmth. “Hey! You must be YN. I’ve heard about you.”

“You… you have?” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Yeah,” Pug said with a grin. “Nikki talks about you all the time. She says you’re one of the smartest people at the firm.”

YN blinked. “She does?”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s a rock star,” Nikki chimed in before slipping away to grab a drink, leaving YN alone with Pug.

Great. Just great.

“So,” Pug said, his smile never wavering, “how are you liking GLK&H?”

“Oh, uh, it’s… great! Really great. Everyone’s been super nice. Except for that one time when I forgot my mug and so I made coffee in someone’s mug by accident and they got like super mad and—” She stopped herself mid-ramble. “Sorry, I’m, um, nervous.”

“Nervous?” Pug asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve heard a lot about you, and now I’m just standing here talking to you, and—oh my god, I’m rambling again,” she said, covering her face with her hands.

Pug laughed—a soft, warm sound that instantly put her at ease. “Hey, it’s okay. I think it’s cute.”

YN lowered her hands slowly, her eyes wide. “You… do?”

“Of course,” he said. “Most people try too hard to be impressive, but you’re just being yourself. That’s pretty refreshing.”

She blinked, unsure how to respond. “Uh… thanks?”

“Want to grab a drink?” he asked, gesturing to the bar.

YN nodded, her nerves slowly giving way to excitement. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

They ended up spending most of the night talking about work, life, and everything in between. Pug had a way of making her feel like the most interesting person in the room, hanging on to every word she said and laughing at all her awkward jokes. By the end of the night, YN couldn’t believe how much she’d worried about meeting him. Pug wasn’t just nice, he was incredible.

As they left the event, he turned to her with a smile. “Hey, YN?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not wait for another work event to hang out. How about lunch next week?”

Her heart soared. “I’d like that.”

As Pug walked her to her car, YN couldn’t help but smile. Maybe those office rumors weren’t exaggerating after all, Pug really was the nicest guy she’d ever met.

[kyberinfinitygems]

✍️ WIP Wednesday Thursday ✍️

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @nightbloodbix and here’s some more far-into-the-future Somewhere in the Woods, Waiting. There’s a few sickfic prompts, which I am a sucker for.

Something felt off about her the moment Charlie woke up in her room in Bruce’s house a little earlier than she wanted to, but she couldn’t really place it. She laid back down, trying to make herself comfortable again as she held onto Deep, the Cthulhu plushie that she slept with every night.

“Hey kid,” Lucille called out, gently shaking her shoulder. “Time to wake up, I’m ready to take you back… to town.” As far as she was concerned, this place was her new home, but unfortunately, she had a father and a life to go back to.

Charlie grumbled, holding her pillow over her head, still exhausted for some reason. “What time is it?” she asked in a hoarse voice before suddenly breaking out into a series of cough. She sat up, her red hair more messed up than usual.

Lucille looked at her with concerned eyes as she saw her tired, flushed face. After some protest, she pushed Charlie’s hair back and felt her forehead with a frown. “Yeah, you don’t look so good. I’ll get Bruce,” she sighed, leaving the room.

Charlie flopped back down into bed, staring up at the ceiling until she heard Bruce walk upstairs and into her room. Her head ached and she covered her eyes to get rid of it.

“Lucille told me you’re not feeling so well. What’s wrong, Charlie?” he asked as he knelt down at her bedside and put a gentle hand on her head.

Charlie groaned, turning away from him, not wanting to engage in conversation. Bruce frowned, looking down at her. “You’re definitely fatigued,” he noted, looking back at Lucille with worry. “And you said she had a cough and a fever?”

She nodded her head and he looked back, resting his hand on his chin. “I think you might have the flu, kiddo. Just rest for now, okay?” he softly spoke before leaving the room with Lucille.

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he rubbed his eyes. “I can’t get sick, so I don’t have any supplies,” he explained and Lucille put a hand on his arm in reassurance and he looked down at her.

“I got it, don’t worry.”

Bruce smiled and leaned down so she could kiss his cheek before heading downstairs. “Thank you, be safe,” Bruce said with a warm smile. Lucille smiled back before heading out to the store, which would take a couple of hours.

He went back to Charlie’s room holding a water bottle, standing in the doorway for a moment as he admired the work they put into it. He set down the water next to her and knelt down at her bedside as she turned to face him.

“It’s just you and me, kiddo. Lucille will be back with some food and medicine for you. I brought you some water, you need to drink it, okay?” he sternly instructed as Charlie sat up took a slow, long sip of water.

It cooled down her throat but she grimaced as it scratched again. “I know how to take care of myself, I’m fine,” she whispered, too sick to speak any louder.

Bruce leaned closer a little and smiled. “I know you’re strong, I don’t doubt that for a second, but there’s nothing wrong with having help.” Charlie rolled her eyes and laid back down, knowing she couldn’t win this argument.

Tagging @captastra @jillvalentinesday @sstewyhosseini @marivenah @shegetsburned @corvosattano @the-laridian @the-lastcall @scentedcandleibex @superblizzardfire and anyone else who wants to share a WIP!

[blackbird-brewster]

Oh noooooooooo, I'm raging about CME again and I'm getting furious all over again. What a fucking shit-show of a reboot. Honestly.

Now I just have to resist the urge to work on my Tebecca re-write. I've got other projects first. But soon. Soon, I'm gonna give them the story they were robbed of in canon.

Good time to remind any new followers: This blog loves Rebecca Wilson unconditionally.

[idgivemyeyesfor-mattmurdock]

i liked your original post reminding people to be mindful of matt's blindness when writing fanfics for him, but your new one is quite odd, to be honest.

anyone who writes for him is free to interpret his character based on what stood out to them in the show, and how they use that interpretation to insert or conduct matt in their stories is very honestly up to them. there are famous and generally agreed-upon headcanons for matt because of popular fanfics in the dd fandom (which i'm also a big fan of), but ultimately they're just that: headcanons.

you may interpret matt as someone who would worship whoever he's dating, but many might not interpret his character as the same. i know you mean well, but i feel that being authoritative over how to write his character takes out the fun in writing fanfics for characters.

OMG HI!!! Thank you so much for responding!!!

Remember: this is my opinion. Not fact. I am not claiming my words to be fact, nor word I ever <3

Totally get where you're coming from; let me clarify my post.

So, there are fictional men like, Jess Mariana, Peter Parker (comic book, not live action) Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Clark Kent, that I feel like can be written overall in a pretty safe and vague way...they're the sweet guys of the fandom, and if you were to put the worst dialog on the planet by those characters but they were having picnic with so and so person, I honestly would read it and believe every action and movement.

If you were to write Though, when writing, Anakin Skywalker, Loki, Bruce Wayne, and Matthew Murdock/Daredevil... we enter this new world of layered writing that should be handled in a way that the reader (even if its for fun) gets the density of their personality, and tendencies.

I said, "Remember that Matthew Murdock is Daredevil, and Daredevil is not Matthew Murdock."

That, is what it means... and I don't feel like I have to defend it that much. His character is almost like moonknight in a way when you're writing two at once. Whichever you choose to focus more on, will reveal that personality for itself. Also, I've read some fan fics that do play this out very well. At night, and at all times at night; Daredevil is rougher with his love intrest, adn himself... vs the day where it's more puppy love.

"Sure he'd want to get a girlfriend, propose THEN have a kid. HOWEVER, throw in a wildcard of a women into the mix, and the order will have to change. Or, throw in if the oc hangs out with Matthew, she may go for the more traditional approach to a family. Vs, a character like Mercedes Castle (My OC. Check out Cherie on Wattpad!) who is more like Daredevil, but spends more time with Matt, then that changes the mix entirely because she's not traditional, but he is."

Again, this goes with handling with person you're oc is hanging around more often.... going back to the daredevil at night thing, I feel like choosing his choices for lets say the oc (at night) says, "I'm pregnant." right? Daredevil (imo) won't be as happy about that, but come the morning, Matthew Murdock plead his heart out to her and ask for "forgiveness" for being so rude.

"Matthew love interest, please remember that they become his god. He worships them, so he will bend the side of him he doesn't like to please her."

So, this can get see as authoritative towards his character. I get my wording was a lil off but, hear me out.

A lot of fan fics i've read MASTER this concept of "worshiping" the oc. But, I'm not saying whatever I say is fact, but in the show he does have a tendency to put xyz character in place of his own self (depending on how much he's 'into' them.) Sure, I get what you mean like, "you may interpret Matt as someone who would worship whoever he's dating, but many might not interpret his character as the same." saying that it takes away the 'fun' but hear me out. We want authenticity, and it feel better as the reader when you are given that raw dialog, and movements. my opinion: I love the worshiping idea, and it plays really well in a prompt when something happen to character B, and he has to give everything up to help them

Why am I writing this?:

Well because I really care about this character, and I hate to see such an intriguing person, get subjected to things that cross their moral standard.

we all have the capabilities to grow and accept others opinions!

and three, well, I just have been writing him for so long, that when I see a post like, "his eyes met my face" I'm like... girly. No. No he didn't because he's blind. And, when I see a pregnancy scare, and she's like, "He slipped his black mask away from his face and hugged me in excitement, saying 'I am so excited to start a family with you.'" I'm like... waitttttt hold up, and hear me out.

If you have a problem with this, please send in a request! Also, I'm open for requests about Matt, so enjoyyyy queens!