#but i just feel so wrong and lonely thinking about the future

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

aroace joy vs aroace loneliness fight

[ajxrn-archive]

I need to be put in a waffle iron or something

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about Jack s5 time travel au again. eventually he’s going to break down, right? he can tell himself that sam & dean wouldn’t want him to jeopardize the future by changing the past, stand by and let lucifer carry on with his reluctant destruction while telling himself that this is his job, to preserve the life sam & dean & cas will have, no matter how much he’s watching them and everything else get hurt in the present. and maybe for them, jack would misguidedly stick it out and make sure things go as they should because the life that they will have might hurt, but it’s theirs, right? it’s what they wanted, right?

but again. lucifer is also there. lucifer is the crux of the apocalypse, and he’s taken jack under his wing thinking he’s a rebel angel for lucifer’s cause, and he’s so different. lucifer and Jack having quiet conversations surrounded by natural beauty where lucifer is so filled with love for all of it, so furious with humanity for ruining the world, so angry and heartbroken that god wouldn’t listen to him. he’s telling jack this while jack nods and listens and tries not to say anything that will give him away. lucifer’s grooming his wings for him absently, saying how much he missed taking care of one of his siblings while caged, and jack is trembling from the constant affection he’s being shown from his dad who doesn’t know he’s his dad. who has never been like this around him before. who he didn’t know could be like this.

i think that’s what would break jack and push his hand into trying to change the future. what wouldn’t he do, if he has the chance to save his father from himself?

[navramanan]

So tired of continuesly feeling this way I keep trying and failing time and time and time again

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

girl help. secret life bigb. i am thinking about him again.

[gaystardykeco]

the one good thing about being all alone is that i have been more stable maybe? like less full breakdowns more just like random crying which is better i guess? im just so fucking lonely like i wish i could just miss talking to ppl less

[inkskinned]

before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.

you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"

and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.

it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.

you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.

in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.

the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.

you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.

after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.

the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.

you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.

[luludeluluramblings]

Yandere! Batfamily x Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Superfamily

A/N: taking a moment to jot this down while in my head, because we gotta know what the Sups think of Reader. (Also because I watched the 1978 Superman movie like crazy as a kid and this whole series is spiraling into the longing for departed childhoods)

A/N: will probably edit this later; I’m still fleshing out some things

A/N: Also, we get a romantic yandere here!

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

To start with, Reader actually adores the Super family.

Jon is Reader’s third favorite person in Reader’s life. (Damian is livid about this fact.)

Reader will beg Bruce to go visit the Kent farm.

It’s as close to their hometown as Reader will ever get to see again. (Reader will willing give affection and call Bruce ‘dad’ just to go.)

And, Bruce can’t say it’s not safe,

Especially, since Clark met Reader and was utterly charmed.

(There is no way Reader can be Bruce’s kid, Reader is way too perfect and sweet.)

(Bruce literally carries the DNA test around to shove in Clark’s face when he start that conversation up again.)

Reader likes Clark, but he’s still Bruce’s friend first. (Which makes things awkward after Reader gets locked down by the Batfamily.)

Reader likes Lois too. (Until after lockdown, then things feel weird. But, Reader is capable of ignoring the weird feeling.)

Lois is extremely friendly with reader, just knows how to coax Reader into talking without it sounding like an interrogation. (Years of journalism and interviews.)

Jon, as stated, is Reader’s favorite.

Reader hugs him, calls him terms of endearment, ruffles his hair. Thinks he is precious and sweet. (Reader is not as affectionate at the manor, mostly because they don’t think the Batfamily cares.) (Wrong, they want that shit so bad. Please, hug them and love them. Even the less extreme yanderes crave it.)

And, Jon is here for it.

Reader gives older sibling vibes and Jon eats it up. (Damian may try stabbing him with kryptonite, but it’s worth it.)

Reader’s not as fond of Conner though.

He’s just another big city rich boy to Reader. (Reader does not care he’s a clone. Doesn’t bother them. Reader’s a meta that makes it rain and snow. So what if he has two dads?)

Conner, on the other hand, straight up Romantic Yandere for reader.

Sees himself as the black sheep in the Super family, where Reader is the lone white sheep in the Bat family.

Reader understands, he knows they do. (And, yes, it’s true reader does actually understand. Which makes the infatuation sooooo much worse.)

(Tim gets pissed about Conner liking reader. Thinking Reader is stealing his best friend away. But, then gets pissed when Conner tries to steal reader away from him after Tim goes full yandere.)

Kara is already in the future at this time. But, if she did meet Reader, they would be platonic soulmates. (Until Kara tries to take Reader to the future with her.)

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[crystallilytarot]

Choose a stuffie. Messages from your future partner

Pile 1 - panda

I think there will be a big change in your life before you two meet, or a big change is happening now. Your future partner said keep going. Please, don't give up. I know it's hard, but it will worth it, please, just keep trying, just hold on a little longer. Do it for me baby. I am coming sooner than you think. We will have a happy family together. (for some of you it can be pets too) We will be so happy, I promise you. All the things you dreamed about, it will be a reality soon. Our love is a little bit like a fairytale. We will also be best friends too. I love you so much! It's hard for me too, but we have to keep believing and keep going. I'm sending you a lot of kisses. Don't give up hope honey!

I also think number 6 and 9 can be significant here, and some water, a lake, beach, sand, and sunshine. Your life will be more happy when you meet. I think your partner and your story is wholesome, I almost teared up, it's beautiful.

Pile 2 - teddy

I feel that you and your partner both had some negative experiences when it comes to love. They said, they know what you are going through. They were betrayed and heartbroken too. They know they still have some issues they need to work on, but they feel better every day. I think they need a little more time, but they are not so far away. Or maybe physically far from you, I feel they live elsewhere or can be a foreigner too. Feels like their voice is a little distant. But I think they only have a little trust issue now, they are almost ready to open up again. And once they arrive, they will be an emotionally available, mature person, a good material for a relationship. They will be so understanding, caring, loving. They will be patient if you need time to anything. You can talk to them about anything literally. Once they are in your life, they will make a lot of efforts to sweep you off your feet, they want you and they will do everything to prove it for you. You both will be healed, everything forgotten, because it's like one in a lifetime kinda relationship. I honestly feel like nothing matters as long as you are there for each other. You are in a bubble, you are finally safe, you are loved. And they said they love you and never forget, that you are worthy. You are precious. And you are a real treasure for them! They want to send you a ❤️ too.

Also grey, numbers 3,6, and letters M or H can be significant.

Pile 3 - bunny

They are very proud of you. You are so strong, and you should be proud of yourself too. You are right when you stand up for yourself. Don't let anyone tell you what to do, it's your life! You two feels like a power couple. I think communication will be very good. They are someone who you can finally talk to. You are both so smart. They said nobody was in your level, so of course you wasn't a good match with anyone, because you are a gem. You deserve better. They also feels like someone who stand up for their loved ones and for what they believe. And if someone treats you wrong, they will have a word with them for sure. Also if you want to move to another place, they will help you with it. Or for some of you, if you want to change your job or something, they said do it. It can be scary, but it's needed, you should really do it. Maybe you feel lonely sometimes, and they know there are days when it's hard, but those people around you won't understand you. You're a high quality person, so you need someone high quality too, like them. They said you will definitely travel a lot, together and you will move to a place where you will be very happy, where you can be yourself. If you are in a toxic environment now, this new place will be so much better. A real home. And they also said that they will love your body very much, they will admire you.

Numbers 2 and 9 can be significant, also a long item, maybe a sword, a tree, and a crown. You will be the rich, elegant, high value couple from a fanfiction.

[celaenaeiln]

Robin Dick Grayson Characterization

I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.

For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.

Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100

Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?

The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.

Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"They will be easier than they ever were for you."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He will see excitement and adventure...and he will help you see it, too."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"He's gotten a taste for it, Master Bruce. He has the natural skill and talent. Do you really think you could stop him at this point?"

"He could make you better. He could BE better."

"A hero forged in the LIGHT."

And Dick feels this too.

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Then WE help them find the better path. Together."

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000

"Let's show them how to do it right."

Calling Dick an angry robin - that's an insult to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. It's an insult to who they are as characters and it's an insult to the very creation of robin.

Dick wasn't made for vengeance. He was made for the light.

Dick is the embodiment of hope and a brighter future. He's what people look forward to on their darkest days, their shining light. He's the hero of all heroes that came after him. There is no one like him.

There are tons of comics on Dick's journey as Robin but here's a clear one as to his thoughts before he became Robin.

Robin & Batman Issue #3

Dick wasn't angry. He's was sad, lonely, and scared.

But.

This good boy doesn't deserve what you call him. This small loving child. Don't you dare push your evil agenda onto him.

"I don't need to be the next batman. I can be something else. Something better."

"And you know the best part?"

"Now I know I don't need to be alone. And I don't have to be the dark."

"I can be the light."

"I can be Robin."

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Dick was an excitable, brilliant, and over-excelling child. He was a ball of sunshine and happiness who loved laughing, playing games, and being crazy. He was a hypercompetent, crazy child who lived for the love of living and adventure.

It's the loss of the original dynamic duo that Alfred grieves over.

Batman (1940) Issue #687

Just look at this adorable baby!!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #16

"Hey, Batman! You took down one of 'em and I took down three! I told ya I've been practicing!"

"Good work, Robin."

What the heck you cute adorable baby.

"Holy--! Is this a warden's office of a museum of horrors? Look at that old rocket ship!"

"Ew. There's a skeleton inside!"

LOOK AT THAT BABY FACE!! THE PURE ENTHUSIAM IN THE WAY HE TALKS - HE'S JUST A HAPPY BABY BOY!!

Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #17

IT'S A CRIME TO CALL HIM ANGRY.

Love this sweet, adorable child.

Another issue with the “Dick Grayson was an angry Robin” take. It’s not just a different perspective, it’s just blatantly wrong.

How wrong?

In order to fight the Batman who laughs, Bruce creates a machine that will emulate the joy of the happiest person he has ever known-who?

Robin Dick Grayson.

"Happiness is seeing the world though the eyes of children."

The Batman Who Laughs Issue #4

"Dick was the first robin. He had the happiest eyes. Circus eyes. Weightless - leaping, never falling."

Bruce drives himself insane from the joy he feels by looking at the world through Robin Dick's eyes.

Every comic. In every. single. comic. All of them talk about how Dick was a happy child and a happy robin. Dick's talk about it, Jason's talk about it, Tim's talk about it, the Justice League's talk about it, the Batman's especially - all the batman comics - talk about.

I would've actually added about 50 more panels but I ran out of image space because posts only have a 30 image limit.

I'm not kidding when I say it's IMPOSSIBLE. ABSOLUTELY, INCONCEIVABLY IMPOSSIBLE to say that Dick was angry Robin. Dick, Jason, Bruce, Tim, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, the JL, the titans, the Gotham villains - they all talk about Dick was a symbol of hope, joy, and light to Bruce and Gotham.

Not only that but if you read the comics, you would know that Dick was a happy robin because all the following robins had a cascade effect on their personality based solely on the fact that Dick was a happy robin. Jason's personality was the result of Dick being charcterized as happy, and Tim's personality was based off Dick's being happy.

But you know what the biggest piece of evidence against this blasphemy that Dick was angry robin is?

Secret Origins (2014) Issue #8

"...Becoming a much needed FOIL to the batman, whose own grim obsession with revenge could easily have caused him to cross the line..."

Explain something to me. It canonically states the Dick was a foil to Bruce Wayne who used to be revenge obsessed and grim. A foil in literature means a character who contrasts with another character to highlight the differences between them.

So if Bruce was dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled and Dick was the foil, then how on earth is it possible Dick to also be dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled?

On top of this impossibility of Dick being angry and full of hatred, can we take a step back for a minute and think about Dick's position in all this? Dick is the very first child hero, the one countless heroes after him look up to because he, Robin, was the embodiment of light and goodness. He single-handedly dragged Bruce out of his pit of self-destruction merely by existing because of his charming and playful demeanor. How, then, is it possible for every single character in the entirety of DCU along with every single writer who has ever written a comic - to be wrong?

Let's be clear. Bruce's personality, is written to be the opposite of Dick's personality. And Dick's personality is the opposite of Bruce's. Furthermore, Jason and Tim's personality were written to be a response to Dick's. There's also Alfred waving a massive banner about how Dick is a literal godsend front and center. So. If you still believe, that Dick was not a happy robin, then you have effectively mischaracterized every single person in the entire batfamily aside from Kate.

Congratulations. It's truly an accomplishment to be so wrong.

So no, Dick was not in fact, ever, the angry robin.

Dick was a happy robin and that is the FOUNDATION of understanding the batfamily.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Neighbor Pt. 6

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: On a random midnight, she comes to Matt's apartment to feel less lonely. Matt lets her in.

Words: just under 3k!

Genres: FLUFF with a dash of angst because of course... they are just two lost souls confiding in the other <3

A/N: I sort of had trouble with this chapter but she's finally here lol. This picks up from Pt. 5... hope you like it!!!

Part 5

Matt felt rejuvenated the next morning. 

Maybe it wasn’t stress he had been feeling the past few weeks… maybe it was something else, something he hadn’t felt in a while. Something that made him need sweet relief that throwing punches and taking hits couldn’t provide. He needed something more sensual—intimate. Something else to get his anxiety and frustration out. Even if it was a brush of contact. Something as simple as a touch. 

Yeah, it had been a while since he’d felt that. And it felt so good to listen to her like that… despite how wrong it was. That was until she said his name out loud. Matt pondered the question all morning as he lay in bed waiting for his alarm to go off. What did it mean? Did she like him like that? What should he do next?

  Nothing, he decided. It was wrong he knew she felt that way about him… it was wrong he continued to listen to her. It was wrong of him to think he could ever make her happy when he leads the life he leads. But God, did it feel so good to think that for a moment—just a moment—it might be possible. 

He rolls out of bed as soon as he hears his automated alarm go off. Wake up, wake up! Matt slams the alarm with his fist, harder than he intended to. He sits for a moment on the edge of his bed, feeling achy all over. Other people in the apartment are waking up right now, too. Downstairs, someone turns their stove on and begins to cook bacon. Another apartment opens its windows to the cool winter air. And her—she’s awake now, too. She turned her TV on to the news.

“Daredevil took down an armed robbery and saved an old woman at the corner bodega…“ 

Matt tunes it out immediately. 

It was strange to hear news about himself playing in her apartment. It made him uncomfortable. There he was, imagining a future with her and playing with the idea of being intimate with her, all the while having one of the biggest secrets ever. 

After a hot shower and brewing coffee, Matt was just about to be on his way out. He heard her shuffling behind her door, slipping her boots on, and zipping up her coat. They always walked out at the same time, an unspoken ritual. Maybe it was safer to keep it like this, Matt thought. Maybe this was as far as they’d ever go. 

Matt took a deep breath as he stepped out, unsurprisingly at the same time as she did. Matt heard her heart rate quicken as she saw him. 

“G’morning, Matt,” she said softly, as casually as she could.

“Morning,” he smiled. Act natural. “Sleep well?” 

She paused, ever so slightly, and locked her door. “I did, better than I normally do. You?”

“Same,” Matt answered, picking up on her hesitation. Maybe he should leave the conversation at this, not push anything further. From the way she was speaking quietly to her slight quiver, Matt knew she was nervous. He didn’t want to make her feel that way. 

“I hope you have a good day, Matt,” she smiled, walking ahead of him down the stairs. Before Matt could give a response, she was already out the door. Matt slowly followed behind, somehow feeling guilty about it all over again. 

She weighed heavy on his mind all day—did he do something wrong unknowingly? All of this was confusing—he heard her say his name at her most intimate, and this morning she seemed to want to avoid him altogether. What happened?

Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong. 

***

Matt walked up the steps to his apartment slowly, one hand using his cane to guide himself, the other holding onto the rail. He passed the floors of the other apartments. They were all so loud to him. Fran had the TV on a bit higher than usual. Someone’s dog was barking begging to be fed. Another was on the phone having a heated conversation with an in-law. All day, Matt was consumed by conversations he wished not to be part of. Sounds he wished he could drown out and turn off.

Finally, he reached the floor of his apartment—and hers. He liked that he shared this floor with only her. He paused at the top of the steps and pressed his fingertips against the wall. She was inside, home already from work. From the sound of her soft breathing and very still movement, Matt knew she was sleeping. A part of him melted inside. Tired from a long day of work himself, he walked as quietly as he could to his apartment and opened the door slowly to avoid making any sound.

He wasted no time changing into his Daredevil gear and waiting on his roof.

***

Matt felt accomplished when he arrived back on his rooftop after a night out as Daredevil. He stopped another robbery and saved an old couple’s bodega. He saved an old man from being mugged. He saved a young girl and her mother from an abusive ex-boyfriend. 

Entering his apartment, he stripped himself of his Daredevil gear and locked it away in his old trunk. He paused, hand still on the locked trunk that held his most detrimental secret. This trunk used to belong to his father. He pushed it inside the closet and closed the door. He made a sign of the cross and stalked off to the bathroom. 

It was shortly past midnight. After washing off in the shower, Matt changed into sweatpants. He lay in bed and shut his eyes. His thoughts always drifted to the same thing: was there more to this life, than just keeping a secret? 

After reciting a prayer and just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard a gentle knocking on his door. His eyes shot open and his senses were fully engaged in the source of the sound. More knocks came. It was her. She shivered under her cardigan and shifted in her slippers from foot to foot, anxiously. Was something wrong? Why was she at his door so late?

Matt threw on a shirt quickly and walked over to open his door. Just as she was about to turn around and retreat to her apartment, thinking this is stupid, Matt opened his door. She stood there with her arms tucked around her frame and shivered from the cold in the hallway.

“Hi,” she said in a tired voice, “I’m sorry, Matt. I know it’s late. But I heard your shower go off and assumed you were awake and—God, I realize how creepy that sounds that I heard your water running so I knew you were awake—never mind. I’ve spoken too much,” she rambled nervously, shivering from the cold in the hallway. Matt was surprised by her presence; he wasn’t upset at all. He welcomed her sudden appearance but couldn’t help but wonder why she was there. 

Not to mention her apologizing for hearing his water running, and assuming he was awake. After all the things he’s heard her do through her apartment… Matt was in no place to judge (not that he would, anyway).

“It's okay,” Matt whispered her name. “I was awake. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, and Matt didn’t have to listen to her heartbeat to know she was lying. It was in her voice, her mannerisms. The way she answered quickly without really considering his question. “I just—“ and she was shivering so much.

“You can come in,” Matt opened the door wider. “It’s cold in the hall.” 

“Okay,” she stepped inside his apartment and away from him as he shut his large, old door. Matt locked it and turned around to smile at her. It was then Matt realized he forgot to put his glasses on. 

“I’m sorry, let me get my glasses on,” Matt said sheepishly, reaching for them on the side table. 

“It’s okay,” she said, “you don’t have to put them on.” She paused, looking at his handsome face in the low glow of his apartment. He wasn’t hard to look at at all—from his warm hazel eyes to his plump lips. 

“Are you sure you won’t be uncomfortable?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” she answered. “I’m barging in on your place—you don’t have to sacrifice your comfort for mine.” 

He smiled at that and then offered her to take a seat on his couch. He allowed her a moment to get a sense of her surroundings—she’d never been in his apartment before. Her heartbeat was steady. She looked around his living room and squinted at the windows when the large screen across the street flashed bright purple and pink lights. 

“Wow,” she said, looking back at his dark apartment. “Those are bright.”

“So I’ve heard,” Matt said lightly with a warm smile. “Do you want any water?”

“I’m okay. Thank you.”

She curled up on the corner of his brown leather couch, tucking her feet in underneath her legs. She was still shivering. Matt offered her the blanket that lay on it and she took it gracefully. 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said sheepishly wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, “truthfully, I couldn’t sleep and I could use a friend to talk to.”

A friend? Matt’s heart jumped at this. She considered him a friend. 

“I’m glad you came,” Matt replied. 

“On Christmas, you told me that any time I felt lonely, I could come by. So… this is one of those times.”

“Yeah,” Matt nodded. “Felt lonely tonight?”

“Not anymore,” she sighed, pleasantly, like his presence alone was enough to cure whatever it was she was feeling. “I took a long nap after work to avoid it and woke up feeling worse than I did before. Like a harrowing, deep hole in my chest.” 

Matt knew that feeling all too well—a hole he’d been trying to fill since he was 11. It occurred to him in that moment Matt hardly knew anything about her. Where she came from, what her story was. She knew bits and pieces of him but he didn’t know anything more than that she lived alone and worked at a bookstore. 

“I understand,” Matt said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe another time,” she said, pushing the matter away. “I just wanted to get my mind off it.”

Matt was happy she was comfortable enough to come to him this late at night for nothing more than just another person to talk to. He could be that person for her—he wanted to be that person for her. 

“I didn’t know you had hazel eyes,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t hide them as much as you do behind those red glasses.” 

Matt blushed—unfamiliar with this feeling in his chest, like a bubbling warmth spread over that harrowing hole she was talking about just moments ago. “Oh,” he said. “People can get uncomfortable when they see my eyes.”

“Then screw them,” she said defiantly. “Like I said…you shouldn’t sacrifice your comfort for theirs.” 

“Thank you,” Matt replied. “For understanding that part.” 

“Were you—“

“Born blind?” Matt had finished this question so many times, that it became a habit to interject whenever anyone began to ask it. “No. It was an accident when I was a kid.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind,” Matt shrugged. He wanted to open up to her, as much as he could—without revealing his biggest secret of all. “I saw an old man crossing the street. A large truck with chemical containers was coming down the block at the same time. I pushed the old man out of the way. The truck lost control, and swerved to avoid hitting us. Well, it did bump me a little, and all the chemicals fell over, leaking everywhere. Some of it got in my eyes and—“

“That was it,” she finished his sentence. “Wow.” 

“That was it,” Matt repeated. His gaze fell on the carpet. He sat at the opposite end of the couch. 

“So, little Matt was a hero?” He could hear the smile in her voice when she said this. Matt chuckled. 

“I did what anyone else would have.”

“How many adults were there, do you remember?”

“It was on a random corner in Hell’s Kitchen. Plenty of people were walking around.”

“So, you did what anyone else would have avoided.”

Matt blushed, looked away from the general direction he was looking in. It felt different to be called a hero when it was coming from her lips. 

“Sure,” he finally said. “We can go with that.”

“Do you…” her voice trailed off, unsure how to phrase her next question without sounding offensive. 

“You can ask me anything,” Matt assured her. “You know a lot about me that some of my closest friends don’t know. Nothing’s off the table.”

“Do you miss having sight? That’s probably a silly question. Do you remember the last thing you saw?”

“The sky,” Matt answered, a flash of blue appearing in his mind. “That was the last thing I saw. And I do miss having sight,” Matt took a deep breath. “But there are other ways to see.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “How do you see in other ways?”

What a loaded question, he thought. 

“Touch, for one. I can get a sense of something when I touch it. Smell—easy to distinguish what’s on my plate. I still know what a majority of things look like.”

“But not people,” she stated. 

“Not people,” Matt affirmed. “But there’s a way for me to paint a picture in my mind.”

“How? A person describes what they look like?”

“Descriptions help,” Matt answered, “but touching their face helps a hell of a lot more.” 

She was silent for a moment, understanding his answers and pondering them. She wondered what he would think of her if he could see. Matt felt as if she was wondering that very thought.

“Do you want to touch my face?” She asked in a hesitant voice. “Or I can describe to you what I look like.”

Matt felt his heart grow in his chest. How could he answer that question, without revealing his true feelings for her right then and there? It had been months of being her neighbor that he hoped and prayed he could cross that threshold with her. Hell, it was a miracle she was in his apartment at that moment. 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” Matt finally said, shifting in his seat. 

“I am,” she whispered, leaning forward. “Come here.”

Matt moved closer to her on his couch until his left knee was touching her right. When he sat close enough to her, she grabbed his hand and wrapped her fingers around his wrist to guide him. 

Starting with her hair, she gently brushed his fingers through it. It was soft. Every thread of her hair felt like water slipping gently through his fingers. Matt held his breath as his fingers grazed her neck. He had to close his eyes for this part. Matt gently placed his hand on the side of her neck, feeling how soft her skin felt on his fingertips. Like Braille, he ran his fingers ever so lightly on her skin, goosebumps following his touch. 

He moved his hand to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. He gently ran his thumb over her brow bone, smoothing it out. Then he traced his thumb under her eye in a sweeping motion. His gaze fell on her chin. He traced the pad of his thumb down the bridge of her nose, stopping at her cupid’s bow. She gently let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Matt gently let out a breath too. He took his other hand and cupped the other side of her face in his palm, feeling her cheeks heat against him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, a steady boom boom, boom boom, he had come to memorize to help him fall asleep. He caressed her chin with his thumb and traced her jawline before slowly running his hand down the length of her neck, retreating to his thigh. 

“Beautiful,” Matt whispered. It was all he could say. 

“Matt…” she uttered his name, trailing off, losing her words. Her heart felt like a cement block in her chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to touch her again. She reached for his hand and placed it on her face, desperate to feel how gently he held her again, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

She turns her head into his hand and kisses his palm. Matt moves his fingers to the back of her head and guides her lips to his, a kiss that should’ve happened a long time ago. Her lips molded to his, the taste of her bringing him back to life, filling that empty hole in his chest again. He hoped it had the same effect on her. Her hand moved to hold his face, a plan to not break the kiss. A plan that didn’t matter if it worked or not, because Matt wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t going to let go of her. 

When she eventually did pull back, he only wanted more. 

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, “for letting me in.” 

Letting her into his apartment, or letting her into his heart—both answers were suitable. 

Eventually, she did go back to her apartment, for reasons they didn’t need to say out loud. But it would be a while until they brought up this night again. 

______________________________________________________________

TAGS: @mattmurdocksstarlight @yentroucnagol @danzer8705 @allllium @i-marvel-bitch @babygrlmurdock @writtenbyred @uncle-eggy @marvelcinematiquniverse @sweetbee0108

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 12 | chapter 13

Long golden blonde hair. Captivating green eyes as green as the grass in the meadows back in Dorne or from the Reach. Her laugh. Her voice.

Her voice. Agitated. Hurt. Lonely.

I love you.

The first time you stirred awake, it was some time in the evening. You could tell from the darkness in the room, with only the light from the candles lit on your table helping your vision. And as if triggered on, the pain all around your body made itself known.

You let out a small groan, stopped short when you could feel movement on your left. Craning your head to look, you could see someone with golden hair sleeping with her head on her arms.

Cersei. No, it couldn't be her. Because the woman beside you was holding your left hand tight in hers as she slept. And Cersei was not known to be that affectionate. Surely, you were not that worthy to be cared for by the Queen Mother.

Another pain shot up in your head, making you grunt and shut your eyes.

"Y/n?" Cersei's sleepy voice made through your ears before darkness has taken you once again.

~~~

It was day time the next time you were awake. Cersei wasn't there with you, making you think if you had only been dreaming about her.

Instead, there were Oberyn and Ellaria, welcoming you with full smiles on their faces. You could no longer feel any pain in your body. In fact, you were feeling elated, as if you were floating.

"Wa. . . Water," you managed to croak out. Ellaria hurriedly helped you up to give you a tiny sip of water. You had never felt your mouth so dry since the last time you made that silly expedition to Braavos as an act of rebellion against your father.

You looked around the room, looking for a certain woman that had been haunting your dreams. "Cersei?"

Ellaria chuckled. "She left for the Maester."

Oberyn snorted another laugh. "You just woke up from defeating the Mountain and the first two things you look for are water and Cersei."

You smiled from ear to ear, as you raised your arm before you, forefinger tracing the ceiling. "I feel like I'm . . . I'm flying."

"Qyburn has given you milk of the poppy for the pain," Oberyn said. "Probably a lot, I guess."

Eventually, your eyelids droop to a close as you went back into deep sleep, still smiling.

~~~

It was Tyrion who visited the chambers next when you woke up the third time. He was reading from a scroll when he noticed you stir awake.

"Lady Y/n," Tyrion said, climbing over a small ladder to see you. "The one who finally beat the Mountain."

You softly chuckled, a dull pain in your head.

"I'm forever in your debt, Lady Y/n," he went on. "Whatever you need, I'll do everything I can to give you."

"Water?" you suggested.

Tyrion only laughed as he helped you drink from a water goblet.

"You know . . . I was wrong."

You glanced at him, your mouth too weak to utter, as you lay back on the bed.

"I thought my sister will never be able to care for someone other than her children. I swore there was one time she almost beheaded one of the handmaidens who took care of you," he chuckled before he went silent, his eyes on the golden necklace with a lion pendant laid on the bedside table. Cersei's necklace. "But I believe you're no longer obliged to marry her, given the news about you offering Yronwood to set you both free from the marriage. Gone are the days of torment."

It made you feel sadness. You had no idea why. It was you who had fully decided to offer it to Tywin the first place. "H-How did she react?"

He only shrugged his shoulders. "I can tell she was a bit taken aback. But I haven't always been able to read Cersei growing up. She doesn't let her emotions show. You don't have to worry though, the future is not yet written. Just take a rest now."

~~~

Oberyn was there to visit you some time later, after Qyburn had changed the dressings of your wound. Apparently, you had broken some of your ribs and there were some bones disalignment, but none the Maester couldn't handle.

Taking advantage of the privacy, Oberyn began discussing to you in whispers that you'd be heading to Dorne soon and that he had something to show you about your birthright.

A lot had happened the time you were asleep. Stannis was executed by the Boltons, led by Lord Ramsay of House Bolton, who was said to be married to Sansa Stark. You could tell luck hadn't been good to Sansa, as you heard tales about Ramsay being a much worse monster than Joffrey.

"Winter is coming," Oberyn said out of nowhere. Your eyes only widened. You knew what he was talking about. You had read about the White Walkers and heard myths about them, but you always thought it was only a drunkard's gossip.

"The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow, sent a raven to every Lords in Westeros," he continued, pulling a scroll from his pocket, the same one you saw Tyrion was reading. "He witnessed it firsthand. And I think it's urgent that we moved south as quick as possible, knowing north would be attacked first."

"But . . . We couldn't just leave—"

"She's not your obligation anymore, Y/n," he said, knowing you were referring to Cersei. "But the sooner you get home, the sooner we'll figure out what to do about your succession."

"What do you mean? Daenerys is the Queen."

"You're four years older than her. Your sister Daenerys was born in Dragonstone where your mother Rhaella was last seen, before Stannis . . . before Stannis executed them all."

You could only grit your teeth. "But I'm a bastard. I'm not the rightful heir."

Oberyn looked around the room to ensure it was empty before he went on, "Daenerys is the Queen, Y/n. We're not contesting to that. Do you know why the Martells was the last house to swear fealty to King Robert? It was because we always believe Targaryens are the rightful heirs to the Iron Throne. But whenever someone wants to get that throne, what awaits them?"

There was a small pause. "Death," Oberyn said, "It's going to be difficult for Daenerys to get back the Iron Throne, it might even kill her. That's why she would need you by her side. You're the last two living Targaryens."

~~~

You awoke alone some time that night. Hearing the door creak open, you turned to look at the intruder.

It was Cersei. When she noticed you awake, she hesitated to enter until she stepped forward then closed the door behind her.

And gods, she looked so beautiful, you thought you were already dead upon witnessing such beauty.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she approached the bed slowly.

"Like I just got beaten by the Mountain," you responded, giving her a weak smile.

She chuckled softly, reaching the side of your bed. Her laughter rarely contained genuine amusement, but not when around you.

"You have the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard," you said, making the Lannister woman meet your gaze. "I've been dreaming about it. Your face. Your eyes. . . Sorry, Maester Qyburn said there might still be after effects from the milk of the poppy."

Cersei laughed as her hand went to hold yours, before letting go, turning her head to avoid your eyes.

"Oberyn said you're leaving the day after tomorrow," she said.

"So I've been told," you confirmed. "Oberyn might be too proud to admit it, but I think he misses their children."

Cersei smiled back before her lips turned into a frown, her eyes meeting yours.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you offer Yronwood?"

You threaded your fingers with hers and she took them. "I . . . I just thought you've been tortured enough that you don't deserve this. You should be allowed to marry someone you love at least. Or not to marry anyone at all if you don't feel like it."

There was silence. Cersei then went to sit on the side of the bed, eyes glistening with tears. "Are you sure it's not just me you're avoiding?"

You lifted your other hand forward and cupped her face, thumb tracing the tear off her cheek. She leaned unto your touch, closing her eyes.

"I will always love you, Cersei," you declared. "But you don't have to love me back."

She opened her eyes slowly, meeting yours. And you could tell hers spoke of uncertainty and adoration.

~~~

"I just can't believe it." Oberyn had been staring at you for a while as you helped the crew of the Martell ship.

When you didn't bother answering, your uncle only laughed. You sighed and placed the crate you were carrying on the floor. "What?"

"Y/n Martell," he announced proudly. "The one who finally killed the Mountain. The one who obtained justice for her aunt and cousins' death. I'm sure your father would be proud."

You forced a smile his way as you went back to what you were doing. You were sailing back home that day. Tywin had agreed to trust the Martells after the trial that almost got yourself killed.

Yet, you weren't sure what to expect back home. Oberyn told you there was something he'd show about your birthright. And with the fact you now knew Prince Doran was your real father, it didn't sit well on you how he'd react if he knew the truth.

With Trystane being your half brother, who you only heard from Ellaria that morning was engaged to Cersei's daughter, Princess Myrcella, things only got more complicated.

But that wasn't what you were sad about. It was because Cersei didn't show up and said her goodbyes to you when you left the palace. She wasn't even in the dining hall when you were all breaking the fast with the Lannisters, sending you blessings for your trip.

You didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. Not that she hadn't visited you since that night she cried on your bed with her hand in yours. The only souvenir you got was her necklace, hidden underneath your tunic. Cersei gave it to you that night, saying it was a gift from her mother, that it was special to her. And that was all you needed to know that you were special to her too.

You missed her terribly and you hadn't even left the Capital yet.

"Someone's going to get a farewell's kiss." Oberyn's voice brought you back to the present, making you straighten your posture and glare back at the Dornishman.

Oberyn then motioned his head behind you. And when you turned to glance, there she was, in her red flowing dress and golden hair elegantly braided. Cersei was heading your way, with what appeared were knights, handmaidens and servants trotting along behind her.

You bowed and greeted her when she reached the deck. "Your Grace."

"Lady Y/n," she said with a smile. "Prince Oberyn. I apologize for such a short notice but Tommen has advised me to visit Myrcella following the news of her engagement with Prince Trystane. A daughter will always need her mother's counsel, whether her suitor is good enough for her or not." Cersei's eyes were on your neck, the golden chain of her necklace visible. "Besides, it'll be nice to see Myrcella. I haven't seen her for a long time now."

Your eyes never left Cersei, stunned about what she said. Is she telling you she's going with you to Dorne?

When Oberyn nudged your arm, you finally snapped out of trance. "Yes, yes, we will set you a cabin, Your Grace."

Cersei thanked you before walking past you both, her perfume lingering around. Her servants, handmaidens and queensguard followed her through the ship, your eyes expecting a certain tall golden haired man with a fake gold hand.

"Where's Ser Jaime?" you couldn't help but ask.

"He couldn't come," Cersei replied as she turned back to you, giving you a somewhat mischievous smile before she let herself be led by one of the Dornish crew to her cabin.

[krispycreamcake]

Laito Sakamaki bf headcanons♤♤

🃏- Ok so uhhhhh let's all just be honest with ourselves

🃏- I really really do enjoy his character and its development, but this man would not exactly be the best boyfriend

🃏- Obviously all diaboys have their extremely toxic flaws, so I'm gonna be as unbiased as I can and give him a worthy depiction

🃏- Depending on your personality and how you've acted towards him, I see him as someone who usually seeks out your comfort in trying times

🃏- It's moments like these where he's so unaccustomed to being vulnerable that he'll have a slight panic attack that you'll betray him

🃏- Luckily however, the more your relationship grows, the less that feeling will be there, but it will definitely take time

🃏- He's definitely asked you to shower with him multiple times, but for different reasons

🃏- Like sometimes he's genuinely so at peace to finally be naked and not hate himself after, or to share something so intimate with you that isn't sex

🃏- Let's be real, sex isn't something special for him, it's just a regular Saturday night

🃏- But knowing that he gets to share it for the first time in his life with someone who he feels safe around, is something he can get behind

🃏- Has you sit on his lap while you both do crossword puzzles together

🃏- Doesn't seem like the type who enjoys making big meals, so he prefers to take you out to eat if it's a special occasion

🃏- Honestly loves talking to you late at night(?) Or morning or whatever it is

🃏- He enjoys the honesty of the conversations and the fact that he doesn't need to see through you, you're just reading to him the pages of your mind

🃏- Watches shows like NCIS, Law and Order, Dexter, etc. He begssss you to watch it with him and catches you up to speed with the episodes

🃏- Realistically, he doesn't always want to cuddle and be in your space. Some nights he just needs time alone for whatever reason and teases you when you get lonely

🃏- Extremely clingy when he's having a hard time keeping his mask on so he tries to play it off as just his normal behaviour (if you know him well enough, you'd immediately catch on)

🃏- Give him well thought out gifts and he'll start planning your future together

🃏- Talks about growing old together and having kids

🃏- Speaking of, you're not dying to old human age on his watch. Whether you want to become a vampire or not, he will turn you into one, you are not leaving his side

🃏- Dry ass texts when he's fully awake and long ass convos when he's about to pass out

🃏- Helps you learn how to play sudoku but will purposely give you wrong tips the first time around so he can flaunt how good he is

🃏- Doesn't understand why you like it when he wears his glasses and insists he looks like an otaku

🃏- Late night walks away from the manor so you both can moon gaze and enjoy the serenity of nature

🃏- One time when Ayato bit you, you insisted that instead of causing drama, he try something more civil (He put laxatives in his Gatorade before a basketball match against another school)

🃏- Also on a related note, really enjoys pranking you and encourages you to prank him back

🃏- For some reason I can imagine him getting really into butterflies and their anatomy. I personally think he has his own sketchbook where he draws them and makes notes on the different species

🃏- Loves to fly kites, he does not care whether you're with him or not, will fly a kite because why not

🃏- Watches mukbangs with you and even chooses the next couple videos

🃏- Jokes about you starting an OF, but had a nightmare that your dream partner found you and whisked you away from him like a prince in shinning armour

🃏- He enjoys playing hand games with you. Yeah idk why I thought about this but it seems to fit

🃏- Enjoys seeing you wear modest clothes. Not because he's picturing the underneath, but he knows you're gorgeous because you can pull being modest AND being naked off

🃏- Wants a Shiba Inu as a pet someday

🃏- He really tries to love you even if he does hurt you from time to time

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful. 

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger. 

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected. 

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples. 

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him. 

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub. 

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more. 

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'. 

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked? 

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in. 

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands. 

Another blonde, huh? 

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)" 

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla. 

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber. 

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing? 

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll." 

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?" 

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[stillness-in-green]

The thing that doesn't make sense to me if Izuku resolved to kill is how it doesn't let them prove AFO wrong? AFO did his big reveal which only makes it clearer how deep the grooming went and it should've been time for Izuku to understand Tenko and Tenko to understand the abuse then reject the mindset forced onto him. But Izuku killing Tenko doesn't do that. Tenko just dies. It feels very wrong.

I guess Izuku just wasn't very interested in proving AFO wrong! Honestly, the only thing I immediately remember Izuku disputing the guy on was the same thing he disputed Shigaraki on: that he was anything more than a human being. AFO isn't a Demon King, but just a lonely man. Shigaraki hasn't transcended humanity; there's still a human somewhere deep inside of him. Izuku won't correct his allies' use of dehumanizing language for Villains, of course, but he's quick to push back when the Villains themselves self-aggrandize.

Sorry, I really only have withering disdain for Deku at this point. And I guess I don't really see any evidence that Deku was ever particularly driven by "proving AFO wrong." He wants to stop AFO, certainly, but that's because AFO is a monster who takes advantage of vulnerable people to maneuver them into doing Bad Things that advance AFO's Bad Plans and sets them onto Bad Paths that are difficult to walk back, not because he expressly opposes AFO on this or that ideological point about the nature of humanity and society.

(Hit the jump for the rest of a somewhat rambly reply.)

If anything, current evidence is that neither Deku nor the manga itself really do disagree with AFO about the frailty of humans, as expressed by Tsukauchi answering Deku's question about how to prevent future tragedies by shrugging and saying, "You don't, because life fucking sucks sometimes and that's just how it is. Our hands are completely tied on improving the system as we have it, so all we can do is punch out the Villains that appear in front of us to stop them from causing more harm."

That's also me being a bit harsh, of course. The fact that Deku is even still asking that question in the epilogue suggests that the manga hasn't reached its final answer yet, and maybe it will yet come up with something better! It doesn't have much time left, but it's still possible!

All the same, Deku is still having to ask that question in the epilogue because he never truly faced it over the course of the story. Never thinking about what Shigaraki as a person said in favor of fetishizing the Crying Child, never coming up with any kind of non-violent plan of attack or conversational approach, I have to ask what exactly about Shigaraki did Deku ever disagree with AFO on?

AFO, in the end, characterized Shigaraki as a puppet he molded exactly as he desired, a doll who he sculpted and programmed to act as he wished, a feeble child who has never made a single decision that AFO didn't cultivate him to make. So far as I can tell, Deku never really contested that framing. He didn't know the extent of it until the full reveal, of course, but Deku, like AFO, insisted on approaching Shigaraki solely through that "Crying Child" lens. He seemed to believe that nothing Shigaraki said or did on the surface really mattered (save as a reason that Shigaraki had to be stopped and potentially killed), that the "truth" of Shigaraki was that feeble little weeping boy who never grew up.

How could Deku possibly "prove AFO wrong" in that context? He doesn't even disagree with him! I mean, he's got some nice talk about how people deserve a second chance, sure; he says that people doing wrong doesn't make them Villains for the rest of their lives. What does do that, however - insofar as I can tell from how opaque the series keeps Deku throughout the final war - is refusing the hand out of the darkness. You stop being a victim and become a Villain for the rest of your life by choosing to remain a Villain even when offered an alternative (no matter how patently awful that alternative is).

Shigaraki chooses to remain a Villain and Deku doesn't have a counter for that because Deku never really got past the false binary represented by Villains and Victims to begin with. And I think the same goes for people who expected Shigaraki to just fold when he realized the extent of the grooming he'd undergone. Disallowing Shigaraki any agency in who he is and what he's done is defining him the same way AFO and Deku both did; when Shigaraki refuses to accept that framing, refuses to be a passive victim, the only thing left for him to be is a Villain. And when a Villain refuses to stop...

Well, Hawks already told us what the Heroes' answer to that is. "Someone has to die." As no one ever stepped up to prove him wrong, as far as the story is concerned, he isn't.

AFO always knew that victims can be turned into Villains with the right nudges; that's the whole reason for him cultivating "warped seeds" whenever and wherever he found them. Hero Society is - and always has been - much too rigid in its enforcement of the Hero/Villain/Victim narrative to effectively combat him. Crucially, Deku - the boy who wants to bring everything back just the way it was - doesn't disagree with him. He thinks AFO is an asshole for setting people up to fail, but he doesn't disagree about what failure means. So if AFO, Deku, and the story itself are all in agreement, what's even there for Deku to disprove?

Now, there is something that would prove AFO wrong, but it isn't something you can do while insisting on drawing lines to separate sad manipulated woobie victims who just need to be saved from awful unrepentant villains who just need to rot. It isn't something you can do while infantilizing Shigaraki Tomura.

The way to prove AFO wrong is to make room in society to help all Villains. Even if they aren't asking for it, even if they never ask for it, and even if they're jolly bastards who don't really deserve it! As long as there's a point at which it becomes okay to give up on trying to save Villains, Shigaraki will remain unsavable. He will insist on being unsavable. He could no more let that go than All Might could step aside and let AFO's attack kill an innocent at Kamino.

That's what it means to be a Hero for Villains.

Ultimately, what makes AFO right is that he knows that Hero Society makes it difficult if not impossible to uncross the victim-to-Villain bridge, and so anyone who does cross that bridge (with or without his influence) is that much more susceptible to him. Deku, in turn, thinks the only Villains he can save are those who drop everything and come sprinting as fast as they can back to the Hero side, so anyone who won't do that is someone he can't help.

Shigaraki refused to stop trying to create a better world for Villains. Toga refused to live in a world that would imprison her. Twice refused to give up on the friends no Hero would help. It's the same with every other Villain who refused to quietly endure their status quo: in a society that refuses to change how it treats Villains, anyone who won't submit to suffering in silence cannot be saved.

That's the paradigm AFO exploits, and Deku will never prove him wrong without resolving to change the paradigm first. We'll see if the last two chapters get him there.