SUPERFAMILY roadtrip ‘Sneaking Out’
Tony: You know what this family needs? A roadtrip. Get away from everything falling to shit, spend some quality time together for a change. So let’s just leave the suits at home, okay?
Steve & Peter: okay
They did not leave their suits at home
Anonymous asked:
beguilewritesstuff answered:
Foggy can never know. Neither can Karen, for that matter. The things they already do know complicate matters enough without contradiction, and there are no words that help bridge what the Punisher’s does on the streets and what Frank Castle does in the sheets.
Besides, Matt understands. Put her in a court of law and spell it out for her, she’d have no defence. The words would undo her. The evidence would crush her. But put her and Frank in a dark room, let them speak with their skin, with their teeth, with their hands; let them speak their own damn language, and they make perfect sense.
Neither of them know who initiates, and neither of them ask. It doesn’t matter. They come through the door of her loft making war; they reach the bottom of the stairs making something else. Not love, not exactly. They’re still aiming to bruise, to maim, but amidst the mad tango of their hands, Frank’s shirt comes off. Her mask is thrown to the side. She bites down on the crack in his lips and Frank pins her wrists above her head, and they could both leave, they could, if only they wanted to.
The suit comes off. Frank’s pants drop. They explore each other with pinches and pushes, with palms that don’t know how to caress and bodies that don’t know how to be held. He grabs her and Matt grabs him back, and they land on her couch in a revolving tangle: Matt flipping Frank flipping Matt, a fight punctuated by grumbles and, “Fucks,” and threats that give way to moans and groans and finally blessed silence.
A lot like their fights, actually.
They haunt every corner of her apartment. They consecrate the landing where it all began, the stairs; they wash blood off each other in the shower, worrying at each other’s fresh wounds with their mouths. They demolish her kitchen one night, then it’s back to the couch, the bedroom doorway, and finally the bed, where Frank tries to cuff her only to end up cuffed to her.
The things they say to each other, it’s the same crap they spew at each other from rooftops, but here, in the dark, surrounded by silk, skin to skin, scar for scar, it’s different. Their lines are laid bare. So they say what they want, they hurt what they will, but Matt rubs the back of his neck while Frank lets his hand warm her lower back. What they have only looks like hell.
Thank God no one’s watching.
a few patented matt murdock moves i love:
- playing up the “oh i’m just a lil ol blind guy” thing so people underestimate him & he can get what he wants more easily. work the ableism to your advantage matt!!!
- when he’s fighting indoors & he turns off the lights like “okay welcome to my world now assholes”
- having a spiritual crisis every two seconds & worrying over whether he’s eternally damned to hell bc he jaywalked last night
- not a matt move but all the matt-as-christ-figure parallels they draw through the cinematography
- refusing to talk about his feelings like a normal human being & instead engaging in some quality dbt (deadly beatdown therapy) to deal w his emotions
he drives me nuts but i love him & his constant shenanigans
Okay guys but consider this: sick Matt Murdock.
He comes down with a fever and this godawful cold, which stuffs him right up and muddles all his senses. Since Matt is the type of person to suffer in silence, he’d totally try to hide it from Foggy and Karen. Unfortunately, because he kind of needs those other senses to get around, Foggy starts to notice that something’s off when Matt starts bumping into walls and stuff. When he finds Matt sniffling and sneezing in his office later, he puts two and two together and pretty much has to drag a reluctant Matt back home, who’s insisting that he’s just fine the whole way. Foggy almost has to tie him to his freaking bed because damn, the man is stubborn and is really protesting any form of care. Foggy sighs to himself, says that he’ll be back in a second, and leaves to fetch Matt a glass of water. When he steps back into his bedroom, Matt’s already out like a light and snoring away.
Anyway, I melted a little bit when I thought of this.
