I've been thinking and thinking, trying to pinpoint exactly what it was that got me into monster fucking/loving. Was it something I saw or heard, or did it just spring up all on its own? I've been racking my brain trying to figure it out. And then I realized it was this! This right here:
The garden scene from Dracula (1992)! This came out before I was even born! At the time, I didn't even know the terms 'monster fucker' or 'teratophillia' were even a thing, but I swear, the first time I saw this, I was like, "I gotta have me some of that!"
(MC slips and falls in the Common Room)
(Sebastian laughs)
(Imelda laughs)
Ominis: My love, are you okay?
(Sebastian slips and falls in the Common Room)
(MC laughs)
(Imelda laughs)
(Ominis laughs harder than all of them)
Found it loved currently binge reading 📚 ☺️
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.
a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.
words: 5.6k
You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man.
You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.
The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis.
You want to trust them, but you can't.
The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands.
You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life.
You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name.
You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.
Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner.
That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in.
There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you.
The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours.
It scares you so much it's not your choice.
You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that.
A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information.
She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."
The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter.
It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take?
You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices.
Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.
You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.
Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.
You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.
Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?
Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running.
This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.
You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.
Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
You trace it with your finger.
Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases.
Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering.
But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner?
"All done?"
Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.
"Foggy will be out in just a minute."
Your head jerks up at that.
"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."
You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left.
You turn your head to follow her gaze.
"Matt!" Karen calls out.
A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up.
The cameras don't do him justice.
Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.
But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.
Just like Minnie's.
The realization shakes your entire world.
This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world.
You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer.
You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.
You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.
It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"
"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you."
You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest.
He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"
"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that.
Your throat gets tight again.
You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat.
Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"
You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment.
Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it.
"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office.
This is it.
Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father.
You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office.
This isn't about you or your fears.
This is for Minnie.
You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you.
He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart.
But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain.
He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.
You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him.
"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it.
You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before.
Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.
"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.
Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic.
His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen.
You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."
He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.
"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party."
The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.
"I think you are the father of my child."
All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up.
You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.
You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.
He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth.
"Are you sure?"
He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.
You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.
"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."
You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.
"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille."
You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe.
Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.
"...her?"
His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.
Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face.
And you know.
You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well.
This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy.
"I have a daughter.."
"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.
"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity.
You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention.
If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger.
"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper.
"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe.
He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up.
"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"
"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."
"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.
"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times.
Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you.
A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"
The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.
"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
"She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."
You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good.
Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"
"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."
Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"
You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."
"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him.
He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"
Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."
"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."
He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying.
"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there."
You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"
You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes.
"We can go at your pace, Matthew."
He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."
You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."
Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me."
Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan.
"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"
Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea."
You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?"
He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.
"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"
"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting."
You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."
He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?"
"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."
That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"
"Yes."
You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."
The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office.
Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"
The door opens and the final partner for the law is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."
Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."
Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.
"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.
You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?"
Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"
You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"
Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right."
"I do, too."
It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie.
You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over.
You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice.
He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.
"Can I ask you something before you go?"
You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."
"Can you tell me what she looks like?"
Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.
"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"
There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.
"Buddy, we gotta go."
You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."
A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him.
"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.
"Thank you."
You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.
"Can I call you tonight?"
"Yes, please."
"Does eight work?"
"That's perfect."
"I'll talk to you then."
You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.
Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man.
You really hope he's a good father too.
Hey, what if Charles was struck with a love potion, which makes you fall in love with the first person you see. And guess who Charles is standing right in front of and looking at in that moment? Well, Edwin, of course.
The whole gang scrambles to get back into the office to try to figure it out (and Edwin is freaking out, he has to find a counterspell immediately because he's not going to cope well with Charles acting as if he's in love with him only for that to end along with the spell).
Crystal and Niko are asking Charles questions about how he feels and if anything has changed, but he claims he's fine and that the potion must have been a fake or something.
Because he's supposed to be in love with his best mate now, but nothing really changed in how he feels about him.
Interesting, isn't it?
Hello there! My family needs to leave Gaza out of necessity . I suffer from nightmares that are so closely resemble reality that I no longer Differentiate between reality and a dream.Thank you for taking your efforts and time in reading my plea. There are no words to describe the horrors unfolding in this place,never expected to find myself in this situation. Because of this horrible situation I have decided to come before you guys for a financial support so that I can evacuate my family from this hell that we are into.The funds will be strictly used for the evacuation . I will personally bear any additional expenses incurred.Your support will make a significant difference in alleviating the suffering of my family ,We urgently need any kind of support before it is to late. As time ticking away translates to lives lost in Gaza I'm here and ready to answer any questions or concerns you may have.Kindly reach out and connect with me
I'm so sorry, I have no means of money because I am a young teenager who isn't allowed to work. But I will continue to spread the word of this war and this time of need.
“i don’t like men with earrings” ok well not everything in the world is done for YOU. to cater to YOU. have you ever thought about that. Now move the fuck over
A/N: neglected reader x yandere batfam part one if y'all like this I'll continue it feedback always welcome 🤗 NOT EDITED
Your mother always spoke so fondly of your father, this certain warmth fell over her whenever you asked about him, as if he was the great love of her life, but even at your young age, you could also sense the heavy air of sadness around her whenever you brought him up.
As a child, your curiosity about the man seemed to be never-ending, it didn't help that your mom talked about him, about how you'd meet him someday. She inadvertently set you up, instilling you with this unfortunate expectation of him being just as excited to meet you as you were him.
Having the city's most famous bachelor as a father felt like some weird dirty secret. Seeing him on TV with his adopted kids- how happy they looked filled you with such a profound sense of longing, a feeling you were far too young to understand. TV was the only reason you could even put a face to a name, he was constantly in the news. Your childlike curiosity and fondness for the man soured with each view of him wrapped around some model or cutting some stupid ribbon where the crowd around him applauds every time he so much as shifts.
Your mother never badmouthed him despite the way he so clearly abandoned her, she had this fantasy where he'd come walking in the door declaring his undying love, over the years you learned to simply smile and nod, you knew it was a delusion.
She never allowed herself to move on, it was something you'd forever hold against the man. He'd ruined your mom in a way she was incapable of recovering from and that alone had Bruce on your bad side long before the unfortunate day you were dropped in his life.
The woman loved and raised you as best she could but a single mother forced to support herself through her pregnancy, could only do so much. In truth, you'd been forced to grow up long before you were dumped at Wayne's doorstep. Your sweet mother had been caught in the criminal underbelly of Gotham, something that seemed to happen to many good people in this town, she turned to unsavory means to provide for you and it caught up with her quickly.
She worked double shifts so most days you had to walk home alone, thankfully the local scumbags of your neighborhood had a soft spot for the woman and in turn, you. Despite how dangerous and crime-riddled your neighborhood was, you never felt afraid walking home, not until the day the firetrucks went screaming past you, something about them had your stomach sinking, your little feet pumping faster towards your home, you smelled the smoke before you saw it, and you'll never forget the sight, how dark it made the already grey Gotham skies, how horribly loud the sirens were, the way your neighbor picked you up, shielding your eyes as he pushes you into his chest. You can still remember the heat from the flames as they consumed your small home. You stood unmoving, unblinking as the roaring fire destroyed everything you'd ever known.
To make matters worse, Jim Gordon, the chief of police happened to be the cop on call, and because of that he inevitably noticed something in your eyes, something in your face so strikingly familiar, that despite this being your first meeting, he could feel in his gut he knew you. It bothers him so much that he follows his hunch and does a blood test the second they get you to the station, his theory is confirmed when your DNA comes back matching the Playboy of Gotham City
Jim tries to comfort you but he knows you'll never be the same after losing your mother. He takes you straight to Bruce's door hoping your Father could help soothe the unimaginable hurt you were going through.
Bruce had no idea how to deal with you. In his defense, you happened to come into his life broken, needing guidance and parental love, at the worst possible time, the same day you're plopped at his feet is the same there's a massive breakout at Arkham, the casualties are already in the fifties, not to mention how high that number would jump the longer he left his more worrisome foes out.
In this mess of emotional turmoil, the last thing Bruce needed was a kid plopped in his lap, but it's what he gets. He was seconds from suiting up when Jim dropped you off.
With some half-assed excuse, you don't even really register, Bruce ushers you inside by the wrist only to drop you off with Alfred, he bolts to the batmobile in an effort to not waste any more of his time, knowing he could be saving lives.
He swore to himself once he fixed this problem, he'd give you his full attention, after all, he knew exactly what you were feeling right now, all the confusion and guilt, the anger and despair, he knew he was the one to comfort you, who'd be able to give you the support you needed.
The thing is, problems in Gotham are never truly quite fixed, are they?
Alfred doesn't know anything about your situation other than that you were Bruce's daughter, he can tell you're traumatized by the glossy look in your big eyes, how you limply held his hand as he showed you to the kitchen, he treats you kindly, speaking softly and getting you settled in your too big room in your too big bed, it felt so bare, so empty, it made that hollow feeling in your chest deeper.
This is the first of many nights you cry yourself to sleep.
The next day Bruce officially introduces himself, sitting across from you at a large table, the distance feeling three miles long. You numbly eat, taking small bites, not truly hungry, but you didn't want to hurt the nice Butler's feelings after hearing he made every elegant dish before you. You're still quiet and don't look happy to be here but you respond when Bruce asks you questions, wanting to be cooperative, because, despite the hellish situation, you need a parent right now.
He can only offer you this brief moment of connection before he's called away, Batman's job was never truly over after all. He gives you a stiff pat on your shoulder before leaving, it's the most he's touched you since you've come here.
At that moment, swallowing how uncomfortable you were in your new situation, you stop him with a gentle tug to his arm, eyes teary and wet, your young mind needed the comfort of a trusted adult, needed someone to look at you with a warm smile and tell you it was all going to be okay, but you can't ask for it... The words dry and shrivel on your tongue, so instead you simply stare at him, eyes full of a mix of emotions, silently pleading for him to stay, to hold you, anything, other than walk away.
But he doesn't, what he does is give you that perfect T.V. smile, the one you grew up seeing him give at charity galas and somehow it felt warmer through the screen, he removes your hand gently, "I'm sorry (Y/n), I really have to go, if you need anything at all Alfred can help you out okay? I'll be home soon." The smile he sends you doesn't reach his eyes as he rushes to exit, this is the first time your father breaks your heart.
The second time he breaks it is when he introduces you to some of the rest of his family. Dick Grayson needed no introduction as his adoption into the Wayne family had been heavily televised, his face was the one you were most familiar with, despite this, it was still odd to meet someone you'd grown up watching on your old little television with envy in your (e/c) eyes, the feeling of otherness was only amplified as you walked into the manor's dining room on what looked like a sweet familial lunch, the dark-haired man opens his mouth to greet you but is cut off by Bruce's stern voice, "(Y/n),
The third time Bruce breaks your heart is when Damian arrives, he shows up a good year after you, by now your were closest to Alfred, you'd made a habit of texting Dick and Barbara updates on Bruce and the homes state, considering they didn't live at the manner like Tim, and only ever rarely received texts back from Barbara.
The moment you meet your younger brother you can sense the difference between the two of you instantly. He looks like Bruce, standing tall despite being shorter than you, he turned his nose up at you as Bruce introduces him. Dick is there too, which makes things worse because of the visible effort he's putting into Damian.
You do your best to try to befriend him at first, offering to show him around the large manner to which he scoffs. Like you've offended him with your question.
"As if I need a nobody like you to show me around my home." He never hid his feelings of disdain, often and frequently letting you know just how inferior to him he thought you were, granted at this point Damian thinks this about most people, but it still felt like a knife twisted in your gut each time he ruthlessly rejects you.
It doesn't help that Bruce seems so eager to spend time with him, how they're always together when you had to fight him to spare you five minutes, they bonded so fast, it made your insecurities bubble over each time they scurry off together in a rush, you once grew brave enough to ask them if you can join but the second the request leaves your lips, Bruce is shutting it down.
"I'm sorry, I have business at the office I need Damian for, next time." Bruce says as they leave, his smile just as empty as his promise, the smug look Damian gives you feels like gravel and dirt being smeared into your carved open flesh.
You try to talk to Dick whenever he comes around, one afternoon, the rain is so heavy in Gotham you decide to stay home, a small voice inside you cruelly reminds you it was also a cheap ploy for some kind of attention from Bruce, by the afternoon you figure the school has alerted him of your absence, deciding to face whatever consequences awaited you, you go downstairs, subconsciously keeping your footfall light, a nervous habit you picked up after Damian said you shook the whole house when you walked.
You overhear him talking with Dick in the kitchen when you tiptoe down the stairs, you were quiet, so quiet they don't hear you, "How's the case going?" There was always this audible warmth in Bruce's tone whenever he spoke to Dick, "Fine, I got a lead I'm pretty confident with, gonna-" He stops talking as you step on a creaky floorboard. "My department is pretty confident that is." You round the steps with a small smile, but only Dick returns it.
"Hello, how've you been?" you'd ask earnestly, "Good thanks!" he'd say, but that would be it, the friendly man was never mean to you per se, he just had this terrible habit of forgetting you. You kept to yourself a lot, seeing you so rarely it felt hard not to forget when he had so much going on, not only in Bludhaven but Bruce had been calling him to Gotham more and more to help deal with Damian, he had his hands full, not to mention the sudden rise of crime in Gotham.
Barbara likes you, she really does, but being Oracle took up every moment of her free time, she was a focused woman and people in this town always needed her help. She had a room in the manner dedicated to her vigilante work, the villains were getting bolder and more frequent in their attacks and Bruce needed her help constantly. And it wasn't just him calling on her skills, everyone was constantly asking her for things because they knew she could get them, that's just how she was, everyone but you.
Whenever she was in the manner working, you were always the one to tell her dinner was done or remind her to drink water, and bring her coffee when she hadn't left her office all day, you were reaching out in a way that didn't overwhelm her, like you could see she was stressed, but she was like a horse with blinders on.
Tim meets you while he's still neck deep in his search for revenge against captain boomerang, which unfortunately means he's short-tempered and stuck in a permanent work mode, he's cross with his close family, so it's no surprise he's even quicker to anger with you, you're intentions are as pure as can be, you see him awake late into the night, his bedroom door open, and say genuinely, "It's so late Tim, maybe you should try to get some sleep-"
"Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He snaps back without so much as looking away from his screen, he was already on edge, defensive as Bruce had been nagging him all day not to overwork himself, he says this with pure venom, so much irritation and malice it makes your bottom lip wobble, he doesn't see the way you flinch at his anger, the way you sink into yourself.
It seemed like each time you tried to reach out to them, to bridge the obvious gap between you, it just made things worse. His comment hit you like a bus, only furthering the nasty idea that had been gnawing at you since you'd arrived, you didn't belong here.
You didn't belong with them.
When you meet Jason, it's about a year and a half into your stay, you were in the same uncomfy position in terms of your closeness with the Family, or rather lack thereof, and the day you meet, things are bright for the first time since you've moved in. You're in the kitchen making yourself lunch when he stealthily climbs in through the window, this scares the shit out of you, having never met him before, you brandish your peanut butter-covered butter knife towards him, "Woah! Easy there, I used to live here I swear." Jason says clearly amused by your fierce stance, he smiles at you with a warmth you'd grown unfamiliar with, "Shit- sorry I thought you were a burglar or something." You say laughing off your nervousness, dropping the knife in the sink as he leans against the counter.
"And if I was..you planned on buttering me to death?" He teases, you feel yourself snort before you can stop it, "Maybe, consider yourself lucky we never have to find out." This makes Jason chuckle under his breath, it still felt extremely weird for him to be back here, just recently becoming cordial with Bruce, but he enjoyed your company. nonetheless.
"You're (Y/n) right? Bruce's newest kid?" He notices the way your smile falls, how you turn to finish making your lunch, the mere mention of his name seems to deflate your once bright aura. "That's me." You seem to say this with a heaviness that doesn't belong on someone so young, "Who are you?" He scoffs lightly at your question, before leaning over, swiping half of your sandwich with a playful grin, "Wow, they didn't tell you about me? Figures, whatever, I'm Jason." He shakes your hand, and for the first time in years you feel good like you weren't on the edge of fucking something up, but then Jason's watch beeps and he leaves. He gently ruffles your hair, "Good to meet you kid, see you around yeah?"
Jason was like the sunshine breaking through the clouds of your new life, but eventually, his own life gets busier and busier, his monthly visits turn into a short call every once, and not long after, even that stops, he's busy ripping Gotham criminals to pieces, consumed by his rage. He just assumes you're fine, that everything is okay, after all, you never complained about it.
You know something is going on with them, their hushed conversations and seemingly never-ending parade of bruises and mysterious cuts start to add up, the way they disappeared at night, but it's only on your fifteenth birthday that you finally figure out what they'd been hiding. Bruce and Damian suddenly rushed away from your birthday dinner, you turn on the news as Alfred boxes up the mostly untouched food, watching you blow out your candles with a sad smile., Bruce and Damian's portions go cold and untouched.
Batman and Robin arrive on the scene just a few minutes after your father and your younger brother dash away. it's only then do you really notice how similar the dynamic duo looks to your two family members.
This is the final straw, when you realize what they've been hiding under your nose this whole time is.. infuriating to say the least, all of a sudden the isolation and otherness makes sense, of course they excluded you, you weren't a member of their little club. This night is the last you spend yearning for them, the bitter, festering anger that had been building over the years only intensifies as you stew in your rage.
THE BILL | EASY ACTION: 5calls /resistbot
It would require in person voter registration with birth certificates or passports that match your current name. This would unfairy impact BIPOC voters, plus:
Up to 69 million women whose names changed.
Trans Americans whose names changed.
Disabled Americans with limited mobility.
DV survivors who can't safely access their docs.
Rural Americans who'd have to drive hours.
Immigrant citizens not originally born here.
Working Americans lacking time off to register.
Those who can't afford or don't have passports.
People with executive dysfunction.
Voter suppression always helps Republicans and hurts democracy and THEY KNOW IT - they blocked ammendments aimed at protecting voting rights of eligible citizens. The GOP is afraid of fair elections. Spread the word, make some noise. Let's hold these cowards accountable. And pls take care of yourself 💙
April 10, 2025 update: this bill passed the House and has the votes to pass in the Senate, IF they vote on it. Ask senators to vote no on cloture ANDthe bill.
‘why do you read “various x reader stories?”’
first, i’m a narcissist and will not read it if it’s not about me
second, I love the feeling of people liking me
third, I was ignored as a child
Heres to hoping 🙏
This is so amazing, I really hope that at least something wins. Selfishly I hope it's George as Outstanding Lead Actor, that man deserves it, but any of them would be AMAZING
Also I hope this means renewal is imminent lolll