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prkwook · 1 year

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THE STORM ⛈️ park gunwook

☆ pairing: high school student!gunwook x fem!reader

☆ genre: (slight??) angst, fluff,

☆ wc: 1.8k

☆ summary: your mind is a storm, spiraling like a hurricane, but at least you have someone ready to wait it out with you, no matter what happens.

☆ warnings: anxiety / social anxiety , reader has a panic attack (pls let me know if there are any i should add)

☆ note: this is my longest fic yet?!!!! not proofread

"I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship." — Louisa May Alcott

You hate having to give presentations in class. So much so, you often skip class the day of your presentation because the thought of getting up in front of everyone makes you physically sick. Due to the amount of absences you were accruing because of this, you wanted to arrive early to school today to try and talk your way out of the presentation you were to give sometime today. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Unfortunately, today was not your lucky day.

When you slept 15 minutes past your alarm, only giving you 20 minutes to get ready and on your way, you thought it was just you being tired and when your hair straightener wouldn’t straighten how it always does, your excuse was that it was a hand-me-down from your older sister and it was getting old. But when your oatmeal was cold and you almost fell down the stairs on your way out the door, and you forgot your headphones at home, you decided that today, your luck (not that you normally have any) had run out.

When you got to school, you made a beeline directly towards the teacher’s office. When you got there, you found your teacher immediately and started walking towards him.

“Good morning, Y/n. What can I do for you this morning?” he asked you, eyes looking up at you from an email he was reading.

“Hi, Mr. Kim. You know those presentations we’re supposed to give today in class?” you mumbled. The frog in your throat was getting bigger by the minute and you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve stood there.

“Oh right! Thank you for reminding me! I completely forgot about those. What about ‘em?” You mentally kicked yourself. Another thing to add to the list of things that just couldn't go right. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth and in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Right. Um, giving presentations makes me… uh… really um… nervous so I was wondering if I could maybe… uh… just come during lunch and just present to you instead of in front of the whole class.” You could already feel your usual day-of stomach ache coming on and it was not helping.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but this is a really big part of your grade. Public speaking is very important for your future so you should get used to it. I’m sure everyone is nervous. Plus, I can’t go around making exceptions for people just because they’re nervous, now can I?” he questioned with an expectant look in his eyes. Unable to respond, you sighed quietly and drop your eyes to the hands fidgeting at your side.

“Oh... okay. I understand.” Honestly, you wondered if your day could get any worse?

Turns out, it could and just did.

“Hello, class!” Mr. Kim exclaims as he saunters into the room, smile on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” the class less than enthusiastically says back to him.

“Aw, where’s the excitement?” Silence.

“Well …” he claps. “I had forgotten about your presentations today but was reminded about them this morning, thanks to Y/n!” he laughs. All 52 eyes in the class turn to look at you. You remember how you used to want to be Violet from The Incredibles when you were little and try to make yourself as invisible as possible. Maybe if you close your eyes, they’ll all disappear.

“Since you reminded me, why don’t you go first Y/n?” You hesitate and a second later, a hand shoots up. It’s the hand that belongs to the class president, your knight-in-shining armor, and the boy you’ve liked since the first day you joined this school, Park Gunwook.

“I’ll go first!” he announces and starts to walk up to the front of the classroom, hands carrying bright, neon-colored flashcards. You didn’t even prepare flashcards. You watch as he gives his presentation with the confidence only a scholar on the topic could have and when he’s done, you watch as he walks back to his seat and sit down.

“Would anyone else like to go?” Not a single hand raises. “Well, I guess it’s your turn then, Y/n.” You get up and silently shuffle to the front of the room, making a mental note of all of the eyes that travel with you on your way. You also can't help but notice how your hair and uniform are now slightly disheveled, a by-product from when you had to slump down in your seat in order to avoid the gazes of your classmates. Suddenly, you’re more self-conscious than ever, feeling the stare of every single person in the room bore into you. When you finally reach the front, you look out into the sea of eyes that are all staring right back at you.

You look down at your hands and fidget with your rings until you hear your teacher say that you can start when you’re ready. But what if you’ll never be ready? What if this fear of embarrassment, this fear that others will notice that your anxiousness and take advantage of it, never goes away?

“Um…” You feel your hands start to shake so you hide them in the pockets of your sweatshirt. “My project was on…. um…” You look up at the SMART board next to you that has the slide presentation you spent hours on, projected onto it. “It’s on …. um… Romeo- sorry… um … Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare.” You look up at the people who could clearly care less about your or your presentation but somehow, your brain has you convinced that they can see your anxiety, as if it’s written in big, bold letters right across your forehead. You start to get overwhelmed and all it takes is a quick glance to the corner where you can see two girls look at you, laugh, and then start whispering to each other, for you to be running out the door.

You run and run and run until you reach the staircase, a place you know no one will be this time of day, and finally let the tears spill. You’re seemingly safe and yet the thoughts in your head spiral like a hurricane, wreaking havoc on your emotions, the peaceful citizens in your brain. Your lungs burn with an all consuming fire, never letting you catch your breath, not for even a millisecond. Your hands are still shaking and you swear your heart is beating so fast, you might even be having a heart attack. You’ve felt these all too familiar feelings before and yet, they’re still as strong as the first time. Everything other than the hurricane is gone and yet, you can still feel a tap on your shoulder, a tap that alerts you of the presence of another being standing on the outside of your storm.

“Y/N, are you okay?” the person asks, worried laced in their words. You could recognize this voice from anywhere.

“Do I look okay?!” you yell, louder than intended. Gunwook recoils, words hitting him like cold water. Your storm widens and he's caught in the crossfire.

“Ok, I probably deserved that. Hey, it’s okay.” he says softly as if he’s trying not to scare you away. “Just breathe with me.” Inhale. Exhale. “Again.” Inhale, exhale. You feel your breathing start to return to normal but even still, you can’t seem to escape the storm. The boy sits down next to you and pats his shoulder. You lay your head down and cry on his shoulder for what feels like an eternity.

You sit up and look at his tear-stained shoulder. “Oh my god, I am so sorry." Embarassment floods your senses and a second wave of tears start to fall. Gunwook wraps his arms around you as if he's trying to protect you from the dangerous winds of your storm, now surrounding you both.

“Hey, no. It’s okay, I promise. No need to apologize. I completely understand how you feel. You might not believe me but trust me, I’ve gotten really good at hiding it. I don’t know if you noticed but while I was up there, my hands were shaking like crazy.”

As he talks, you feel your storm get smaller and smaller until it’s only just a little, tiny rain cloud floating above your head. You pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Why’d you chase after me?” you question, still looking into his warm, brown eyes. He looks right back into yours and wipes away a tear-shaped raindrop running down your cheek.

“Because I was worried about you, Y/N.”

“Why were you worried? I mean look at me, I've never been better.”

Gunwook laughs, and his laugh is a sound you're convinced is your new favorite. “What do you mean why? If the girl I like runs out of the classroom crying, obviously I’m going to be worried …. wait a second…..” He looks away to hide his cheeks, but his red ears are a dead giveaway.

“The girl you what?!”

“Shit. I’m sorry if that just made this awkward. I mean you said it yourself, we’re not really friends so I don’t blame you at all if you want me to leave. You know what, I’ll just go.” As he gets up and starts to walk back in the direction of your classroom, you grab his hand.

“Don’t I get to say my piece now?” Gunwook pauses and you take this as a sign to continue. “Remember when you were assigned to show me around the school because I was new? That was the day I spilled my strawberry milk all over you. I felt so bad and kept apologizing but you insisted that it was actually your fault because you bumped into me. You even bought me a new one from the cafeteria. Instead of making me feel embarrassed or humiliated, you comforted me, saying that it was okay because you had been looking for an excuse to get a new jacket. To this day, no one has ever done something for me like that.”

Gunwook laughs and the smile you’ve come to love appears on his face. “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The entire time I was with you, I was so nervous. I mean how could I not be? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.”

“How come you never told me how you felt?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. It’s a lot easier to stay quiet about it than have to deal with rejection.” Gunwook responds, sadness written all over his face.

“Who says I would’ve rejected you?” You say and smile for the first time that day.

#prkwook #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 x reader #gunwook x reader #park gunwook imagines #park gunwook x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #zb1 #park gunwook #gunwook #zb1 angst

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starlightshadowsworld · 6 months

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I swear if we get the whole Agency together. For the first time since the beginning of this arc, the entire Agency is reunited.

Everyone's exhausted and yet seeing each other gives them strength. Dazai has the most over the top entrance and Kunikida is immediately telling him off for being late.

Dazai smiles just a bit brighter because he's missed him, he's missed this. He spots Atsushi and waves him over, Kyouka's at his side.

Both of them smile and greet him. He tells em how boring jail was and if anything cool happened... And learns Kunikida stole a car.

Kunikida: ...Dont you dare.

Dazai: Kuuuniiikida?! I'm flabbergasted, you, you stole a car?! And without me! How cruel.

Kunikida: It wasn't like that! And why would I steal a car with you?!

Kyouka: No it was like that.

Dazai: Kyouka, tell me everything!

Kunikida: Don't you dare!

Atsushi watches them all with a smile, he's missed this.

Fukuzawa slowly turns to them all and tells them he's so proud. Ranpo's standing close to him and reminds them all this would've have been possible without him.

Aya cuts in like actually I did it. She gets praise and thanks, Kunikida tells her off for being reckless but finishes by saying he's proud of her.

... And than MORI walks his little smug Randall Boggs looking ass over and smiles.

And asks so which of you is coming with me?

Atsushi's confused, he's not the only one and Mori smiles wider like oh didn't you even tell them, Fukuzawa? That you're handing one of them over to me.

"Mr President? What's he saying?"

And Fukuzawa, his best friend laying at his feet having to look at his subordinates... His family and tell them they have to be separated again.

... If that happens know that the one screaming as their heart shatters, will be me.

#bsd dazai #bsd fukuzawa #bsd kunikida #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd mori #bsd aya #bsd ranpo #bsd atsushi #bsd kyouka

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herblay · 1 month

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Cocktails I would make for class 1A (with Shinsou, minus Mineta bc I simply wouldn't, and with Monoma because I love him)

Sorry that's a particularly deranged concept, I mean this later in their teens/adulthood in that 8 year gap where they're putting up w Bakugou's begging them for money to make Deku a hero. Not when they're the baby age of like. 15. Don't drink kids. Idc really but like it's apparently not good for u. Then again what they went thru would drive me to drink even more. I was originally going to make all the cocktails in this post but I do not have all that liquor on hand and I don't love you guys enough to buy allat. (also psst I hate some of the cocktails on this list)

Iida: You may think the answer is nothing but I beg to fucking differ. He is a distinguished gentleman of society (cough cough rich bitch) and therefore I would make him a very classy Negroni. I personally do not care for vermouth and therefore am not super fond of them, but I feel like this is the level of distinguished cocktail suitable for Mr. President.

Yaoyorozu: No cocktail, a glass of dry white wine yes though. Probably a nice Sauv Blanc (my wine of choice). Classy, crisp, and wonderful. I originally had her as a red wine gal but I think a dry white suits better.

Todoroki: Dark n Stormy. This is one of my personal old standbys, and Todoroki seems like he'd be a rum guy. Ginger beer has the nice kick to it, and the layered effect jives with him. I think this is a great cocktail.

Midoriya: Tokyo Tea. Come on. Had to use Midori for his. It's only right. I actually don't really like this cocktail, it's too sweet for my tastes, but it's an incredibly sweet cocktail that packs one hell of a punch in bright green– tell me I'm wrong about this. I dare you.

Kirishima: I love him too much to give him a Bloody Mary. He'd have a Cosmo. Because much like that cocktail he was unfairly forgotten about by Horikoshi HORIKOSHI WHERE IS MY SON Infinitely fun to drink, fun to make, and always looks wonderful. Peak.

Kaminari: Carbonation is the name of the game. Kaminari seems like he'd enjoy something a little fizzy a little bubbly. And I thought about a Moscow Mule for him, but a limoncello spritz is the far better option. It's bright yellow, very summery, and very fun to drink (allegedly. Idk. I don't like sweet cocktails, as established. But I'm a good host and I think he'd like em.)

Mina: CLOVER CLUB BECAUSE IT'S PINK AND DELIGHTFUL (seriously if you make any cocktail in this list. It's a fucking delight. And it is pink and has a nice foam and a great touch of acidity. Perfect for Mina).

Sero: A Penicillin. Idk why. The vibe came to me and I think it's correct I just don't know why. It's smoky and gingery and is a great vibe for a rainy day. I like this for him.

Jirou: Espresso martini. I literally hate making these but it really suits her. They're also, much as it pains me to admit, a wonderful cocktail. But I made them once for my friends and now it's the request 24/7 and uh. Bestie they're not exactly a quick and easy drink to make. Anyway. She'd like one. I promise.

Satou: He's a sugar guy, so a piña colada would be right up his alley. Not a super quick drink to make if you're just making one, but a super easy drink to prep if you're making a batch of em, and rum is THE sugar liquor. Not a super fancy and sophisticated cocktail, but that's hardly a bad thing. It's friendly and accessible and always welcome (like his baking).

Shinsou: THE Corpse Reviver No. 2. I was saving this one for Aizawa but objectively this is correct. Absinthe rinse MANDATORY. I like using Cocci Americano Blanco instead of Lillet Blanc for this, but really both are great, I just balance out the Lillet's added sweetness with more lemon. But yes.

Monoma: Cocaine.

Tsuyu: Queens Park Swizzle. It's like a more whimsical mojito, it's light, refreshing, and literally impossible to dislike. Got a touch more depth than a mojito as well (which is fitting for Tsuyu, she's best girl, I love her dearly).

Ojirou: I am not gonna lie the extras are hard to nail down. He seems like I would give him a vodka cran and forget about him. (Even as an adult. Idk man I really don't care about him) (Sorry to the like. 2 Ojirou fans out there. I just. Do not get him very much)

Aoyama: I am NOT giving him a French 75. 1 because that's too easy and 2 because this boy is a Mai Tai if I ever saw one. Fruity and camp. And also because I made a sparkly Mai Tai (with a rim I set on fire) for my friend's birthday and I think that was the most Aoyama drink ever.

Koda: Okay so I think Koda would not be a big drinker but I would share my edibles with him. A weed gummy or two. We could make it work.

Shoji: Mezcal Paloma. Packs a punch but it's got more depth and nuance upon the second sip. Mezcal in general is a very Shoji spirit icl. Got that slightly intimidating front to it but has a lot of texture and depth beneath the surface. We love you Shoji <3

Tokoyami: I wanted to give him a Jungle Bird just because. Funny. But let's be real he's a Death in the Afternoon type of guy. And pssst here's a secret I fucking love that cocktail. Absinthe, champagne, and that's about it. The other option is the Necromancer, which is my actual favorite cocktail ever, but it's a touch too floral.

Hagakure: Capirinha. A mostly clear cocktail that genuinely is nearly impossible to screw up. Tastes lovely, is surprisingly distinct for a lime + liquor cocktail, and is an all around vibe on a hot summer day. Felt right for Hagakure, she's one of the lighter characters.

Uraraka: Tbh I'd just share a beer with her, she seems like the type to be down to chill with a beer and some bar snacks, but if ANYONE deserves the honor of getting a French 75, it's her. Friendly and bubbly, but packs one HELL of a punch. I love you Ochako. You deserved SO MUCH BETTER (I'm still so fucken distraught at what happened with her and Toga man. Her as a quirk counselor was the only good bit in the epilogue.)

All Might: is probably getting a glass of warm milk at the bar lbr but he seems like a Long Island Iced Tea type of guy (and that fits with Midoriya's in a very cute way now that I think about it. Damn. Didn't even do that on purpose but I'm happy abt it now).

Aizawa: Sazerac! The licorice notes are really strong in the ones I make, and an absinthe cocktail fits for him.

Bakugou: Is getting water. He would simply never do any drug and would probably freak at the concept of caffeine (I do not care about canon if it contradicts me) (He went to bed at 8pm as a teen that boy is probably never setting foot in a bar much less getting drunk bless him) (He has important things to do) (And money to save to finance his sugar baby I mean rival)

#bnha #my hero academia #deku #all might #class 1a #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #aizawa shouta #monoma neito #hitoshi shinsou #This is fucking deranged but I'm a little tipsy #i really love them #Present Mic is definitely getting the Jungle Bird #I have thoughts but DabiHawks as a cocktail is definitely a paper plane

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1rsoldiersince2012 · 4 months

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Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 4475 (chapter 52)

52. Dogs to a Gunfight

"Page? Karen Page? I need to see her." You say, making your way towards one of the interrogation rooms in the police station, coming face to face with more officers than you can count.

At least four tall figures loom over you, scrutinizing your every move. Despite feeling slightly intimidated, you hold your ground. "What's the matter, ma'am?" The tallest one, sporting a long beard, questions.

"Lawyer business. She's my colleague."

"I.D.?" His accent is thick; he's probably from England or even Scotland.

"What is this, are you holding the president himself? Come on." You open your briefcase, fully packed with documents and your personal belongings, struggling to find your purse stuck at the bottom of it, under some folders. As you retrieve your I.D., the whole hallway of officers is now looking at you, hands resting on their belts, ready to grab their guns if you were to pull out something other than a document. You calmly hand the bearded officer your I.D. and wait for him to let you through.

"30? You don't look a day older than 26."

You furrow your eyebrows, feeling a mixture of surprise and confusion at the comment. "Thanks, I guess," you say hesitantly. "Can I go in now?"

"Yeah, sure." He steps aside, with the other three officers, giving you the document back.

The doors fly open and Karen jumps in her seat, but then recognizes you and immediately sighs. "Oh, it's you, thank God."

"Karen, what's-" She knocks the air out of your lungs, embracing you tightly. You hesitate at first, but then wrap your arms around her, hugging her back. "Are you okay?"

She pulls back, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright."

"I'm not." Grotto clears his throat, bringing all the attention to himself. "That freak almost killed me yesterday."

"Could you please elaborate on the situation, Mr. Grotto?" You take the information sheet from Karen, swiftly scanning through her notes. "I'm new to your case."

"Where's Murdock and that other? Who are you?"

"Your lawyer, Mr Grotto, get used to it." Your face becomes expressionless and blank as if you've turned off all your emotions. You did this intentionally; clients always need that coldness for reassurance.

Foggy enters with a fresh wave of air, but alone, happy to see you with Karen.

"The paperwork's almost done and Brett's gonna be in in a minute." Karen is the first to speak, gently moving away from Foggy. He greets you with a firm hand on your shoulder.

"Where's Murdock?" Grotto asks again, not sparing a glance in your direction.

Foggy sits next to you clearing his throat. "He took a sick day." A sick day? First, he's not answering your calls, and now a sick day? You look at Foggy, confused but say nothing. Not the time. "You told us the Irish were attacked by a whole gang of guys. I'm pretty sure the word you used was "army." You want to tell me why I'm now hearing this is all being done by one man?"

"Look, I didn't know you guys were-"

"Who does he work for?" This time Foggy left his soft side at home, and you're happy about it.

"I got no idea!"

"Well, what do you know?" You ask, studying Grotto. He's scared, twitchy and aware of every sound that reaches his ears, like a guard dog protecting his bone.

"I know he's a sociopath, that's what. I mean, yeah, fine I heard the rumors, okay, but I didn't think I thought it was ridiculous, okay? Ten, or 20 guys could be mowed down at a time. And with precision? You know, tactically. Every hit was like some kind of SEAL Team 6. Then people started saying it was one guy doing all that. One man? I thought it was a ghost story." He takes a deep breath, focusing on Karen. "Some campfire shit you tell freshies to make 'em crap their pants. But now... You saw. That guy was the Grim Reaper." Karen's face tones down a shade.

"Mr. Grote, I'm Sergeant Mahoney. Got some clothes here for you." Mahoney comes inside, carrying an orange uniform.

"What? Am I arrested?" Grotto's eyes widen at the prison clothes, disappointment in his lawyers rising.

"Just protective custody until we can figure out WITSEC."

"Why the peel?"

"Or stay in the gown with your ass hangin' out, - I don't care." Mahoney answers, visibly drained from last night, and annoyed. "We pulled the security footage from the hospital. I've got ten men going over it right now."

"Any leads?" You ask, hopeful for this shit to end quickly.

"I was hoping you had something. Let's let him change. You two wanna step outside with me for a sec? Now, the DA's office is sending someone over to talk you through Witness Protection options."

"Today?" Foggy asks nervously, he didn't feel ready to face anyone from the District Attorney's office.

"Yeah, right now. And listen, take whatever deal they offer, okay? You don't wanna mess with this psycho." Mahoney walks up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"So you do have a lead." Karen walks up behind you. You're eager to find out what happened to Matt, and your hand instinctively grasps the cross around your neck.

"I ever tell you what Clemons used to say? Gotta treat witnesses like mushrooms." Mahoney takes a sip, and continues, "Feed 'em shit, and keep 'em in the dark. That scum's on a need to know."

"So fill us in. Who's bankrolling this guy? Who does he work for?" Foggy leans forward to hear Mahoney better.

"The DA's office says the shooter's independent. Vigilante type, targeting different crime families. And not in a ...a Daredevil way. In a Death Wish way."

You instantly get uncomfortable upon the mention of Daredevil. Great, another vigilante. Just exactly what this city needed.

"Holy shit."

"Daredevil kicks ass, this whole city cheers like we just won the World Series. But this guy? He does it, and the streets get bloody. Makes everybody stop and think twice about the whole 'hero' proposition."

"Well, what do you think?" You ask, curious about how Mahoney feels about city's vigilantes, one in red particularly.

"The whole force is split. Some cops want him off the street, others think he's making our jobs a whole lot easier. But if you ask me, it's only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire." You nod slowly to Mahoney's words, agreeing; it was a blessing just as much as it was a curse.

"Yeah, you put it that way, I guess copycats were inevitable." Foggy sighs.

"No, it's not the first, just the latest. Yeah, we call them 'Devil Worshipers.' Nutjobs inspired by the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Shit, most of 'em are just ineffectual idiots, but this guy, in all my years on the force, I've never seen anything like him." Mahoney leaves you three standing in a complete silence.

***

"Shit, it's not an assistant, it's the actual DA." You nudge Foggy with your elbow when you notice a tall woman making her way down the corridor.

"That's Reyes?" Karen looks at the two of you confused.

"In all her defense-attorney-destroying glory. How do I look?" Foggy turns to face the two of you, adjusting his jacket and running a hand through his long hair. He desperately needed a decent haircut.

"Uh, semi-professional." Karen jokes, but Foggy's fallen face tells you that he took it to the heart. "No, Foggy, I'm kidding."

"You'll be fine." You tap him on the shoulder, fixing your slick back ponytail.

"Okay." Foggy squeezes a tight smile at you.

"Are they the ones that brought in Grote?" Reyes asks with authority in her voice, making every officer in this part of the station stop in their tracks and listen.

"Um, Franklin Nelson, of Nelson and Murdock," Foggy says with a hesitant smile as he extends his hand, but Reyes doesn't reciprocate the gesture. "This is my associate, Karen Page, and my colleague, Y/N Y/L/N," he adds, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head.

As she catches sight of you, her face lights up with recognition, eyes squinting as she looks on you, but Reyes doesn't verbally acknowledge it. Instead, she instructs the officers, "I want you to get Mr. Grote ready for transport."

"Excuse me, but, transport where, exactly?" Foggy starts panicking.

Reyes turns to her assistant, Tower, "Once he's in our custody, I want you to personally handle all the arrangements."

"Just to put it out there, our client's already given us a list of his conditions." Foggy interrupts, and you bite the inside of your cheek when Reyes makes a face at Foggy's comment; the kind of face one would use on a kindergartener who asked something as stupid as 'why people can't fly?'

"Mr. Nelson, have you ever negotiated a witness protection agreement?"

"Well, speaking for my firm, I can attest that we're all very fast learners," Foggy speaks again, and you can only watch him fall even further in her eyes.

"The District Attorney appreciates your efforts, but our office will be handling the case from here." One look from Reyes, and Tower is already kissing her butt. Typical career chaser.

"Excuse me. Grotto is our client." You insert yourself in the conversation, earning a laser-like look from Reyes, "We asked for your help, not for you to turn things around however you want, Ms Reyes."

"And it would be in Mr Grote's best interest for you to recuse yourselves so he can bring in a legal team with more expertise." Tower's eyes bore into yours.

While you two briefly engage in a staredown, Karen mutters under her breath with a slight chuckle, "You mean someone you can push around."

"We had enough expertise to handle Wilson Fisk." Foggy puffs his chest, boasting.

"I'll say this once, Mr. Nelson." Reyes begins, "If, God willing, your firm doesn't collapse under the weight of the chickens and the fruit baskets you've been collecting from your indigent clientele, there will come a time when you need to ask a favor of the District Attorney's office. And depending on how this situation resolves, that favor will either be forthcoming or permanently withheld. Am I making myself clear? "

"Of course." Foggy utters quickly, obviously crapping his pants.

"Hang on," You gesture with your hands, smiling, "so, just to wipe the dust from my quite recent Master's diploma, as someone who represents the government, Ms Reyes, you surely act biased, am I correct?" Tower and Reyes both similarly raise their eyebrows, "I mean, what's it for the government if a law firm like us with all of our fruit baskets and chickens collapses or not? What, if I was still in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, I wouldn't have to go through all this crap, when there's an active psycho shooter on the loose who wants to kill our client, right?"

"You know what y/n?" Foggy turns to you, hiding his grin, "I just remembered, that local DA's don't have jurisdiction over the witness protection program. That's solely determined by the U.S. Attorney's office, a.k.a. the Feds, who are probably just as douchey as you are, but at least they can deliver on their promises and their threats. Since this really isn't working out between us, maybe I should just deal with them directly."

"I happen to know a few feds actually, let me make a call-" You pull out your phone, meanwhile Reyes grasps your wrist and lowers it.

"Hang up. What do you want?"

"I'd be careful with hands, after all we're in a police station." You continue smiling, watching how Reyes's fingers leave your skin.

"As I see it, the District Attorney's office would like to receive credit for any arrests that arise from Mr. Grote's testimony. And my client, on the other hand, could definitely use the enthusiastic endorsement of the New York DA when entering in his witpro agreement. In either case, he'll be requiring legal representation, which will be provided by the law firm of Nelson and Murdock. To put it in layman's terms - cut the shit, lady. You're dealing with us." Foggy's self-confidence is going through the roof and you couldn't be any more prouder than you are right now, watching Reyes and Tower's crestfallen faces, after someone finally put them in their places.

"Oh, that was amazing!" Karen exclaims as soon as Reyes disappears out of earshot.

"That was just round one."

***

"So, what happened?" You ask Karen when she steps outside to get some fresh air and finds you sitting on a bench in front of the station, smoking.

"Uh, apparently that crazy guy with a gun is called the Punisher now." She sits next to you, exhaling loudly.

"Huh, everyone's got a fancy name now. What about Grotto?"

"Reyes wants to wire him and meet some drug dealer called Brass so they could get more on the Punisher."

"Well, shit." You sigh, watching the smoke evaporate from your cigarette into the gray sky. "It rarely ends well with the wires. That's basically a death sentence to Grotto."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of the time people with wires are not lucky because they're too nervous, sweating, avoiding eye contact or touching their chest, because the wire starts feeling itchy, and it's easy to notice, especially if a person has experience in illegal stuff. Drug dealers are very careful, mainly when it's a simple meeting, or they know that someone they're meeting has been arrested or lawyered up. It's a simple thing really, but the adrenaline of the situation is out of Grotto's control." You're met with Karen's wide eyes, so you shrug "my dad was a cop. Many failed missions."

"This can't be it, right? There has to be a solution, somehow we can turn the situation around."

"I wouldn't stress myself about someone like Grotto that much. I know how scary it must've felt in that hospital, but Grotto brought this on himself, and if that man is out for revenge, we're not gonna stop him with a simple witness protection, and neither will Reyes. She's practically using him as bait to lure the big fish."

Karen lowers her head, looking at the ground, shoulders slumped with defeat. "You're staying here?"

"Yeah, gotta talk with Mahoney. You're going back to the office? I want you to send these back to-"

You're about to reach for a folder in your briefcase, when Karen shakes her head, "Um, not really. I'm going elsewhere before, don't wanna lose the documents."

"Alright, doesn't matter," you stand up, dropping the remains of your cigarette on the ground. "See you later?"

"Yeah, probably."

You leave Karen sitting alone and slowly stroll towards the station, hopeful to not cross paths with Reyes or her puppy Tower, but it wouldn't be a fucked up day without things you dread the most coming true next to the coffee machine.

"Had a nice break, Miss Y/l/n?" Reyes asks when you come face-to-face with her in the lobby.

"Yeah, I did." You press a 'coffee with milk' button on the machine, "did you manage to fuck things up for us?"

"I would be careful with that mouth of yours, y/n." Reyes's voice becomes threateningly low.

"I'm done sugarcoating things, District Attorney. You put him on a deathbed simply because you think working with smaller firms is a waste of time. If you actually manage to catch the Punisher with our client as bait, you'd get all the glory and all the votes for the next election, right?"

"You think you can see through me, but the truth is, you can't see past your nose, y/n. I know a lot about you that might be a big push out of your seat; I mean, a client getting killed in your arms is enough to excuse you, but all the times you were involved with Daredevil?" She scoffs a low laugh, "I am keeping a close eye on you."

You swallow some harsh words, and offer a tight-lipped smile, "Glad to be such an important part of your busy life, D.A." You grab your coffee, excusing yourself from Reyes's presence before you lose your temper in a police station of all places.

***

Matt was in a state of distress as his ears were filled with a piercing, agonizing ringing sensation. The discomfort was so intense that it felt like a sharp needle was being driven into his brain while a deafening church bell reverberated in his ear simultaneously. It was an overwhelming experience to be deprived of not just one, but two of his most vital senses. While Matt had grown accustomed to living without one sense, the sudden loss of hearing felt like a terrifying nightmare. Frightening thoughts raced through his mind, with the fear that this deafness might be permanent, but just as quickly as it appeared, the feeling dissipated. Amidst the confusion and shattered glass, there was nothing else left; nothing new.

He still hasn't called you back. He kept replaying the "love you" part in his head over and over again. You must be at the station with Foggy and Karen, and he didn't want to disturb you. If anything, he'll call back in the evening, ask you to come over, and fall asleep with his head resting in your lap. Your fingers in his hair, and you, telling him about your day and how you three got Grotto into the witness protection.

Maybe that guy's bullet hit him harder than Matt initially thought. None of these events were part of Matt's plans for the evening, as he had a significant amount of Daredevil business to attend to. At times, Matt longed to establish his own identity, separate from the complexities of leading a clandestine double life. With each passing day, the persona of the devil drew Matt deeper into this vigilante shit, making it increasingly challenging for him to maintain his true self, to exist solely as Matt Murdock.

A knock on his door interrupts Matt's thoughts. He slowly navigates the corridor and, when the knocking persists, yells, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

"Hey." Karen greets first.

"Hey. Sorry, you startled me." Matt's voice is low and uncertain.

"I didn't mean to." Karen apologizes, immediately regretting her decision to come here.

"Come in."

"Uh, sure?"

"Of course." Matt lets Karen inside and closes the door. "I, uh I heard what happened."

"Yeah, I'm fine." She says, voice wavering, " No, uh, actually, I'm I'm barely holding on. I really don't enjoy being used for target practice."

"Come here." He extends an arm towards Karen's body and engulfs her in a brief hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

"How about you?"

"Uh, me, yeah, I'm fine." He lies. He's been lying too much recently.

"Hair of the dog that bit you?" Karen gently kicks a piece of broken glass, watching Matt walk towards the kitchen aisle.

"It's, uh, it's not what it looks like."

"What does it look like?" Karen is met with a stone-cold poker face and quickly apologizes. "Sorry. No, I don't mean to pry. I just... I worry about you a little bit-"

"No need. There's no need to worry."

"Yeah, you know that doesn't help, right? You, denying that there's anything wrong."

"Karen, let's not-"

"No, I... How many times can I hear that you fell down the stairs, - or you walked into a door?"

"Well, you know, I'm blind." Matt deadpans, only to be met with a counterargument.

"And you know that I'm not an idiot." Matt huffs loudly in response. "Okay, um Let's say this. When, or if, you ever feel like you can tell me what's really going on with you I promise that I'm here. Is that a deal?"

"That is a deal. Now, what can you tell me about the meeting with the DA?"

"Yeah, um, it's... Where to begin? Um. Reyes showed up." Karen sits on the sofa.

"Personally?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Any idea why?"

"Well, uh, it wasn't to bask us in the warmth of her personality, I can tell you that."

"Yeah, Reyes wouldn't buy a pack of gum if it didn't move her political career forward."

"Well, she wants him on a wire. She's got him set up for a meeting with some big fish in the mob named Brass."

"And are they gonna protect Grotto?"

"Yeah. Foggy and y/n made sure of it." Karen notices Matt's expression softening. " But he's scared shitless over this psycho shooter, Matt, and I can't say that I blame him. Reyes even used it for leverage. She called him 'the Punisher'."

"What do they know about him?"

"That he's very scary, but I could have told you that. So whatever they know about him downtown, they're keeping it to themselves."

"All right, well, that's where we start." Matt rises from his seat, making his way towards Karen, "We need to put together a file, a thorough one. Find out who this guy is, and what makes him tick."

"Great."

"You think, uh you think he's crazy?" Matt asks.

"Uh, the Punisher? No. I think he was inevitable."

"Inevitable? How so?" He draws his eyebrows together, confused.

"Maybe... maybe we created him. All of us. The moment that we let Daredevil, or the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or whatever it is-"

"There's no connection." Matt's answer comes flying immediately, and now it's Karen who's confused.

"Well, actually, I think it's a pretty straight line, Matt. Daredevil practised vigilante justice in our backyard and we applauded him for it. I know that I did. And we never stopped to think that maybe his actions could open the door for men like this. Men with guns. Men who think that the law belongs to them."

Matt crosses his arms in defence. "There's a difference."

"Well, I don't see it. Not anymore." Karen's voice rises slightly.

"Yeah, well Daredevil never killed anyone."

"Well, not that we know of."

There's something about this city that makes good people want to shoot their way out of bad situations."

"You think this 'Punisher' could be a good person?" Matt is amazed at Karen's train of thought.

"No. No, I'm just saying he could be any one of us. I'm gonna get back to Foggy. You know he hates prepping cases alone."

"Right. What about y/n? She won't help you?" Matt makes the situation even more awkward by asking about you, but he just couldn't help himself.

"She's probably gonna still be at the station."

"What for?"

"I don't know Matt, you can just call her." Her words come out harsher than she wanted, so she quickly adds, "if you need anything at all-"

"No, I won't." He answers quickly.

"You just let us know, okay?" Karen hurries to get to the door before Matt.

"Okay, thanks. Thank you for coming around."

Karen turns around in the doorway, standing only a step away. Matt feels the change in the air and slightly backs away. "Wait, Matt, I, um... We care about you. You're worth keeping around."

Matt only nods, and Karen's high heels are already ringing in the corridor.

***

You return to the temporal station, crossing paths with Reyes in the corridor again. When you step inside, Foggy is giving a lecture to Grotto. "Whoa, who's this accordion-selling fella?" You say, noticing the ugly white shirt that Reyes gave to Grotto, causing him to grimace at your comment. "Reyes almost burned me with her laser eyes."

"This is not a deal you walk away from." Foggy ignores your blabbering and continues.

"Not alive, no." Grotto rolls his eyes.

"You get them Brass and they get you away from the psychopath hunting you." Karen adds.

"It ain't just him. What if it's Brass puts a bullet in me? What if the Irish got wind I'm doing this?"

"They didn't. When Fisk went away, so did a lot of corrupt cops. No one's palms are getting greased anymore." Karen tries to provide a little bit more comfort. "We're getting you out. Clean."

"Doesn't feel like getting out. Feels like getting in. Deeper than before."

"No, you're not. Grotto, this is your second chance."

"Just don't say anything incriminating, you'll be fine." You add from your seat, from where you were already scrolling on your phone.

"You serious? Is she serious?" Grotto panics again, and Karen is the one to calm him again.

"She's joking, don't mind her."

"You're covered. That's why we're here." Foggy waves a folder, "These are your orders for witness protection. The golden ticket."

"It's, uh, legally binding until midnight." Karen reminds Grotto.

"Upon which, if not executed, they turn into the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Foggy jokes, earning a chuckle from you.

"What?"

"It's time, let's go." Tower marches in to take Grotto away, giving you a dirty look.

***

"Where did he go?" You ask, watching the white shirt Grotto disappear around the corner.

"Overwatch positions, check in by the numbers." The guy in front of you says into the microphone of his headpiece, and you feel your heart sinking in.

"What exactly is an 'overwatch position'?" Foggy asks Reyes, confused.

"Let the police do their job." The latter cuts, and you rise from the chair, face already without color."

Karen walks up to Reyes's computer and pulls away her headpiece. On the other side of the wire, you can clearly hear policemen talking, "Charlie three is set. Clear fields of fire in sectors one and five. Over. Charlie four is set." Reyes puts the headphones back in, annoyed.

"You're waiting for him." You say, feeling a lump in your throat rising.

"You're using my client as bait for the Punisher?" Foggy catches up with you.

"Probably the first useful thing your client's ever done in his life." Reyes scoffs.

"Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun suing you. Whatever it is that you have planned here for tonight, it ends now. We're getting Grotto out." Foggy stands up, angry and annoyed.

"Target is inbound! Target is inbound!" A voice from Tower's walkie-talkie shouts, and on the screen, you notice a white truck speeding into the parking lot.

"It's a trap, get everyone out now!"You say, before noticing two figures fighting in the distance.

"Take the shot!" Reyes shouts while Foggy mutters 'no'.

"It's him... And daredevil." You mumble, not able to pull your eyes away from the screen. As both of them disappear, Foggy abruptly stands up and runs out, leaving you and Karen with Reyes in the room.

"Ah what the hell!" Karen exclaims, angry. You only shake your head in disappointment. What else was there left to do?

#matt murdock #bound by law #marvel daredevil #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson #netflix daredevil #matts superhearing complicates things for you #daredevil #lawyers #marvel #frank castle #the punisher

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kittieshauntedourfantasy · 5 months

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My brother's opinions on RTC characters/songs

(Again. Warning: he's a hater)

Characters

Ocean: "She'd be better if she wasn't like 'ohh I'm the best thing on Earth'. Also the AUDACITY to try and change everything back after she found out it was a unanimous vote. Like the AUDACITY."

Noel: "Nuh-uh. No. It's not the fact that he's gay it's the fact the girl he wants to be. It's not working for me."

Mischa: "The best character but I don't like any of them so that isn't too hard to achieve."

Ricky: "No. His visions are no."

Jane Doe: "Jane Doe more like Jane No"

Constance: "I don't like what she did in the porta potty"

Talia: "She's probably fake. I hate to admit it to homebro but she probably is."

Monique: "no. i feel like. she's weird. again, it's not him being gay, it was about her being weird and murdering people."

Karnak: "Buddy's like Mr. Beast. Makes 'em do a challenge that one person wins."

Virgil: *sighhh* "I'd be mad at him but he was just a rat and he was hungry."

Songs

Fall Fair Suite: "It's alright."

What the World Needs: "mmm. It's OKAYYY. I don't like how she only sung about herself. She seems like the kinda girl to run for class president and wonder why she lost."

Noel's Lament: "I got excited when I heard the clip, like 'oh that's where it's from!', but then I realized what it was about and went 'oh.'"

Every Story's Got A Lesson: "She's WRONG but also she's right. Not every story has a lesson but Noel was a lil freaky"

This Song Is Awesome: Doesn't remember

Talia: "I dunno. Bro should not have sung two times in a row. At least Ocean got a break in-between with Noel's Lament."

Space Age Bachelor Man: "E-W-W"

The Ballad of Jane Doe: "It's alright. Why'd she sing if she got nothing to sing about then why'd she sing? Y'know what I'm saying?"

The New Birthday Song: "It's a new birthday song alright"

Sugar Cloud: Doesn't remember

It's Not A Game/It's Just A Ride: "I mean, it's alright..."

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straight4joekeery · 2 years

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Eddie: What? I'm not aggressive!

Steve: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Eddie: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

Steve: That’s a snake.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve: State your name, rank, and intention.

Eddie: Eddie, Eddie, fun.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.

Steve: Eddie, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen?

Steve: Neither.

Steve: Because it's twelve.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.

Steve: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve: I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed for you.

Eddie: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool!

Steve: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool!

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Hey there Vecna, It's me, ya boi.

Steve: Eddie, NO!

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.

Steve: What- how?

Eddie: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Y'know, I once knew a man who said to me: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” He also had a pair of sideburns that would cause even Jude Law’s face to weep in forfeit. You put those lemons in a sack and beat your enemies with ‘em! And maybe if you beat ‘em hard enough the bag will split open and lemon juice will spray into their eyes, causing intense burning pains as you crush them into a citrus-y pulp!

Steve: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Their heads or the lemons?

Eddie: Whatever caves first!

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macabre-discotheque · 8 months

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Thimbleberry Pie Charts!

Hello!! This is a little fic thing I've had in the works for a little while and shared with a few friends, and I decided I should upload it!!

Criticism is much appreciated, I both want to get back into writing and want to get better!!!

Word Count: 896 Words

“-And that’s ten cases of card stock, an entire package of crayons, aand the mail-in day catalog for stamps! That’ll be a thousand smolleons, Mr. Joe!” … “What do you mean you don’t have that kind of money?! I should be charging you extra for wasting my time!! Good day! Sir!”

SLAM!!!

...

"Tough day?"

"You could say that,"

Pascal leaned against the pillows behind them, crossing their arms as they glanced at their ‘coworker’, humming silently.

After some time passed, Pascal started messing with an abacus on their makeshift table, they punched a few numbers into the toy calculator they were provided and finished off by flipping a few papers scattered around their workspace before speaking again,

“Hm, so far, we’ve made about a hundred dabloons from those teddy sales, a thousand and five hundred smoleans from the staplers and pushpins, pfft, aand a couple tens from whatever moolah is supposed to be,”

“Ah! This quarter has been a successful one I see! Maybe we could-” Frank began but was promptly interrupted with a “But!-”

“We’ve also got an order of big boards coming in,” Pascal said as they held up a receipt, “-and then a couple of crayons that are just…blue?” They looked up at Frank, “Do you know anything about this?”

Frank simply shrugged, to which Pascal simply huffed in response and got back to work. Frank set the books he was carrying onto the floor and then propped up the board on the two stacks for a makeshift table. A bit more time passed, Frank finally finished his desk.

“Take a look at that bookworm!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a bookworm on your shoulder,”

Frank looked to his right shoulder, lo and behold, he saw a little green worm staring up at him with comically large glasses atop its eyes.

“Oh! Look at you!” The puppet gently took the bookworm along his hands and showed it off,

“You know, Pascal. The Lumbricus Bibliostris usually appears in situations involving books, number crunching, and any busy work that involves reading! They often come in great handy when-”

“When keeping track of things!” Pascal finished Frank’s sentence for them with a smile.

“See? I pay attention whenever you talk about nifty little insects!”

Frank couldn’t help but smile knowing this fun little fact about their friend. They grabbed some knick knacks scattered around Julie’s house to place on their little makeshift desk while Pascal fiddled with their abacus and wrote a few things in crayon.

“Do you think we could convince Wally and Mr. Dear to join us next time?” “I doubt it, last time Eddie joined Julie and I in this little game, the poor mailman lost his marbles when Julie started wrecking things! As for Wally…I’m not too sure, maybe we could? He could draw those silly fruit-flavored pie charts Julie always needs for the board meetings!” “What flavor was it this time before I got here?” “Strawberry, but then midway through the meeting, she said it was supposed to be thimble-berry,”

“Do we even have that color?” Frank mumbled the question as he took the little bookworm to the open windowsill to let it outside, “I’ve never heard of such berries..” “Heck if I know! I’m only the accountant, Mr. Frankly, I crunch numbers and tell the head honcho about ‘em! Speaking of which, can you buzz in President Joyful? I finished countin' those numbers she was losin’ her marbles about earlier.” Pascal grabbed a stack of papers and set them next to their books. “No need to ring your lovely president in!! I’ve been here the whole time!” Julie spoke suddenly, appearing right in front of the cat puppet like it was nothing, startled by the rainbow monster’s sudden entrance. “Let me see those!” She snatched some of the papers and started rapidly flipping through them, mumbling nonsense to herself as she paced excitedly around the room, “These papers are quite overdue, Mr. Pushpin!” “Mhm..mhm…that looks about right…Wait!! Mr. Pushpin, why does the first hour say we sold fourteen crates of chuckler berries?? We don’t even have them in stock! And why do these papers say our stocks aren’t stocking?!” Julie yelled out as she scrambled to read the rest of the papers from Pascal’s desk.

Pascal looked up at the horned puppet in confusion and quickly grabbed the papers she had dropped, looking through them to check if Julie’s accusations were true. Frank got up on his feet and walked over to Julie, raising his brow in confusion. “What? What’s the matter?” He skimmed over the documents right next to Julie as buttons clacked in the background. Frank’s eyes widened, and they shared a look of horror with Pascal, who was holding the dropped papers as the two puppets wordlessly shared the same realization. “Our backburners aren’t in the back, and these pie charts aren’t blueberry flavored…The cans aren’t canned, and our doubloons aren’t even in doubles! This…all of this…” Julie rambled anxiously, mumbling more incomprehensible nonsense to herself. Pascal quickly dropped the papers they were holding and ran over to Frank to whisper one thing before chaos struck. “Mr. Frankly, it has been an honor working with you.” Without missing another beat. Julie threw the papers up in the air and gripped the sides of her head and cried out in despair,

"THIS COMPANY IS GOING DOWN!!!"

#welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home fanfic #julie joyful #welcome home julie #frank frankly #welcome home frank #pascal pushpin #welcome home oc #writing #pyro has a story to tell

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