Rickgrimescontroversiallyyounggf - Jude Duartes Sword - Tumblr Blog

MEOWWWWWWWWWW

OMG REAL

Kill- Valerian, Kiss- Locke, Marry- Cardan

Just realized that the folk of the air trilogy is just Jude doing kiss marry kill with her male bullies.

my queen

˗ˏˋ TAYLOR SWIFT All Too Well: The Short Film (Behind The Scenes)

so real

*Y/n and tony are on their first date*

Waiter:thigh or breast?

Y/n:*condescendingly*personality

Waiter:

Tony:*trying not to laugh*so we are definitely going on a second date

REAL

Sometimes I just wanna read Tony Stark x reader fluff:((

When you just want to read fluffs but theres a shit ton of smut of the character:

No thank YOU so much for making it💕

AND FOR MY NEXT TRICK:

off that soft prompts list - tracing your lover’s scars, but matt x reader x frank and not just reader doing it, but guiding matt’s hands over frank’s body and the reverse 🥺🥺🥺🥺

do with that what you will polygodmother 💗

be still and feel my beating heart

let's have a sleepover at mine!

pairing: frank castle x reader x matt murdock

a/n: thank you so much for this wonderful ask, kay my darling. this was so beautiful and so soft; i'm sorry it turned out way angstier than intended but... enjoy anyway. 🥺

song pairing: dear august (pj harding & noah cyrus)

The howling wind seems to quieten as your fingers dance across Frank's chest, smooth skin and hardened muscle giving way to a ringed scar that ebbs underneath your fingertips.

You loose a heavy breath. "If you ever had the chance to heal this completely, would you take it?" Would you heal the mark and bear it internally instead?

Frank stills, as if your very question prods red-hot into the centre of his soul.

Heat blooms across your face as remorse surges through your veins. "I don't mean–"

"No. Never."

Matt props himself up with an elbow, shoving the covers off in the process. "Because the scars keep them alive, preserve their memory."

Frank's eyes flutter shut as the pit in your stomach opens up, eddying with shame and bitterness. With the guilt of asking the question. Or the fact that you thought about it in the first place.

Your heart sinks a little further as Frank's hand rests against your own, pressing it flat against the mark. "I'm forgetting things," he says, voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I can't remember her laugh. Or the way" —his voice breaks— "the kids would run up to me after school."

The three of you are silent for a second, interrupted only by a gust of wind that brushes up against the vaulted windows. He circles the scar gently. "That's uh— that's not even because of them. Got that one in Kandahar."

Matt swallows, reaching over to clasp his hand over Frank's. And yours. "Doesn't matter where or how you got it, Frank. You bleed the same. You bleed for them."

"That's right," Frank mutters, nodding his head slowly; the movement barely discernible in the dark.

Matt leans into his touch, gripping the both of you tightly. "You fight for them every single day. That's all you can do, and you do it, over and over again, without a second thought. They're proud of you, Frank. Of this life you've created, of the way you honour them."

Frank inhales sharply as you squeeze him, holding him as close to you as humanly possible. "And what about you, Red?"

"My scars?"

"Yeah. D'ya think you'd erase 'em, if you could?"

Matt purses his lips, tilting his chin to the ceiling. He seems poised to answer the question, but you know the expression on his face. He's deep in thought, and it's more than likely he's sifting through the memories of every cicatrix he's ever worn.

"I don't know," he murmurs, chewing on his lip. "On one hand, I'd get less questions, but on the other..." You press a kiss to Frank's shoulder as your hand now settles on the plane of Matt's stomach, hoping your touch offers him some semblance of support. He breathes a quick 'thank you' before continuing. "On the other hand, they remind me the fight is real. That everything I've done has been worth it, in some way or another."

You run your fingers through his hair, sensing the words he's left unsaid. "There's more, isn't there, Matt?"

"Hm?"

"They're a living reminder of your pain."

Matt turns his head away, as if to shield himself from the truth. "Yeah. So maybe I deserve it."

Frank wastes no time in cupping Matt's jaw, bringing his head back to face in the right direction, grumbling his disagreement in the process. "S'bullshit, Red. Absolute bullshit if I've ever heard it."

"Glad you think so, Castle," Matt scoffs, every word clipped.

You swipe a thumb over Matt's cheek, trailing your fingers down the side of his neck, earning a shudder in response.

"C'mere, Frank," you mumble, guiding his touch towards the long scar on Matt's stomach; the one given to him by Nobu.

Matt stifles a groan as the callouses of Frank's fingers scrape gently over his skin, then again as Frank's lips trace the outlines of the twin marks adorning his chest.

Your next words come out mumbled, dispersed amongst kisses that flutter down Frank's back. "You, my darling Matthew, bleed for Hell's Kitchen. And God knows the city's safer for it, so let your scars be a reminder of all the good you’ve done."

“That’s right, Red,” Frank adds. “‘Sides, you got us now, and I don’t want your sad Catholic boy act. You’ve done good. Hell, better than I ever could.”

As the world around the three of you begins to fade away, intercepted only by Matt’s hushed argument-in-response, you think about it for a second: how it'd well and truly take a lifetime to kiss every single scar flecking their bodies.

You might as well start right now.

This is so amazing. I love it so so much.

AND FOR MY NEXT TRICK:

off that soft prompts list - tracing your lover’s scars, but matt x reader x frank and not just reader doing it, but guiding matt’s hands over frank’s body and the reverse 🥺🥺🥺🥺

do with that what you will polygodmother 💗

be still and feel my beating heart

let's have a sleepover at mine!

pairing: frank castle x reader x matt murdock

a/n: thank you so much for this wonderful ask, kay my darling. this was so beautiful and so soft; i'm sorry it turned out way angstier than intended but... enjoy anyway. 🥺

song pairing: dear august (pj harding & noah cyrus)

The howling wind seems to quieten as your fingers dance across Frank's chest, smooth skin and hardened muscle giving way to a ringed scar that ebbs underneath your fingertips.

You loose a heavy breath. "If you ever had the chance to heal this completely, would you take it?" Would you heal the mark and bear it internally instead?

Frank stills, as if your very question prods red-hot into the centre of his soul.

Heat blooms across your face as remorse surges through your veins. "I don't mean–"

"No. Never."

Matt props himself up with an elbow, shoving the covers off in the process. "Because the scars keep them alive, preserve their memory."

Frank's eyes flutter shut as the pit in your stomach opens up, eddying with shame and bitterness. With the guilt of asking the question. Or the fact that you thought about it in the first place.

Your heart sinks a little further as Frank's hand rests against your own, pressing it flat against the mark. "I'm forgetting things," he says, voice lowered to a near-whisper. "I can't remember her laugh. Or the way" —his voice breaks— "the kids would run up to me after school."

The three of you are silent for a second, interrupted only by a gust of wind that brushes up against the vaulted windows. He circles the scar gently. "That's uh— that's not even because of them. Got that one in Kandahar."

Matt swallows, reaching over to clasp his hand over Frank's. And yours. "Doesn't matter where or how you got it, Frank. You bleed the same. You bleed for them."

"That's right," Frank mutters, nodding his head slowly; the movement barely discernible in the dark.

Matt leans into his touch, gripping the both of you tightly. "You fight for them every single day. That's all you can do, and you do it, over and over again, without a second thought. They're proud of you, Frank. Of this life you've created, of the way you honour them."

Frank inhales sharply as you squeeze him, holding him as close to you as humanly possible. "And what about you, Red?"

"My scars?"

"Yeah. D'ya think you'd erase 'em, if you could?"

Matt purses his lips, tilting his chin to the ceiling. He seems poised to answer the question, but you know the expression on his face. He's deep in thought, and it's more than likely he's sifting through the memories of every cicatrix he's ever worn.

"I don't know," he murmurs, chewing on his lip. "On one hand, I'd get less questions, but on the other..." You press a kiss to Frank's shoulder as your hand now settles on the plane of Matt's stomach, hoping your touch offers him some semblance of support. He breathes a quick 'thank you' before continuing. "On the other hand, they remind me the fight is real. That everything I've done has been worth it, in some way or another."

You run your fingers through his hair, sensing the words he's left unsaid. "There's more, isn't there, Matt?"

"Hm?"

"They're a living reminder of your pain."

Matt turns his head away, as if to shield himself from the truth. "Yeah. So maybe I deserve it."

Frank wastes no time in cupping Matt's jaw, bringing his head back to face in the right direction, grumbling his disagreement in the process. "S'bullshit, Red. Absolute bullshit if I've ever heard it."

"Glad you think so, Castle," Matt scoffs, every word clipped.

You swipe a thumb over Matt's cheek, trailing your fingers down the side of his neck, earning a shudder in response.

"C'mere, Frank," you mumble, guiding his touch towards the long scar on Matt's stomach; the one given to him by Nobu.

Matt stifles a groan as the callouses of Frank's fingers scrape gently over his skin, then again as Frank's lips trace the outlines of the twin marks adorning his chest.

Your next words come out mumbled, dispersed amongst kisses that flutter down Frank's back. "You, my darling Matthew, bleed for Hell's Kitchen. And God knows the city's safer for it, so let your scars be a reminder of all the good you’ve done."

“That’s right, Red,” Frank adds. “‘Sides, you got us now, and I don’t want your sad Catholic boy act. You’ve done good. Hell, better than I ever could.”

As the world around the three of you begins to fade away, intercepted only by Matt’s hushed argument-in-response, you think about it for a second: how it'd well and truly take a lifetime to kiss every single scar flecking their bodies.

You might as well start right now.

REAL.

I need to stop joining new fandoms and falling in love with new people.

You’re so right. She will always be on my hate list for that. But also on my good list for creating the hunger games because this series is my life.

I will never forgive Suzanne Collins for killing Finnick

you just like me fr

“you’re so chill” thanks i’m avoiding reality with everything that i have

the way i adore this

|| Crosshairs ||

Frank Castle x reader x Matt Murdock

Warnings: swearing, ass worship if you squint, allusions to smut, idiots in love.

Author's note: feel free to read Perfect For Me for reader's previous lesson with Frank, and Overstimulation if you want Easter egg detail on the boys' previous Tête à Tête…

Art: Declan Shalvey.

"Alright. Now, this is a little different from the targets you've been shootin' at so far, so listen carefully to what I tell ya. "

"Mmm. And what a target it is." You grinned, looking through the rifle sight at the best ass in Hell's Kitchen.

Frank chuckles, "Yep, but remember he probably won't let you anywhere near it after this…"

You laugh a little too loud. "Yeah, these paintballs sting like fuck."

He laughs quietly before shushing you. "Heheh, okay, don't want Bat-ears hearin' us and ruinin' our fun do we?"

You shake your head.

"How did you know he'd be here?" You ask. The Kitchen wasn't huge but there were any number of rooftops or alleys where Matt could have been out patrolling.

"Told him to meet me there in about a half hour's time."

You tilted your head. "And he just shows up, no question?"

Frank hums. "Bout a year back, I made our little devil completely lose his shit on that there rooftop. S'kinda an anniversary, I guess." He smiles at the memory.

"Oh, you never told me this story! You are so spilling the T on this to me later…"

"Mm, maybe." He looks down his own scope. "What variables you got, sugar? List em off."

You push that intriguing little relationship nugget aside for the time being and refocus for a few seconds, recalling everything you already know and everything Frank's taught you. You love your lessons with him, they're so different to Matt's although some elements converge.

"Well, it's a moving target this time, the distance, the wind direction and speed?"

Frank nods. "Good, and don't forget the fact your target is your boyfriend…"

"Yeah, our boyfriend." you muse, watching Matt crouched up on the edge of the building far in front of you, suddenly reconsidering what you were about to do. "Hmm, maybe we shouldn't…"

"Hey, don't get all soft on him now, he knows you need this kinda practice. I'm pretty sure he'll forgive you and you can put the blame on me princess, don't worry."

He was right. And besides, owning an ass like that was completely unfair. You lick your finger and hold it up to the wind, ignoring Frank's amused smile. You readjust your position and the rifle, getting comfortable and tracking Matt as he slinks off to the right of the rooftop. Then you yelp silently, almost dropping the gun as Frank's hand squeezes your own ass hard.

"Hey!"

"You forgot one more variable sweetheart - me distractin' you." He smirks as you throw him a scowl and try to relocate your target.

"Okay okay, you big goof. I'm tryin' to be professional here, now let me do this." You inhale deeply, setting your sight on Matt's perfect butt and silently hoping that blue paint would wash out of his suit.

Frank's voice is low and sweet near your ear. "Remember, slow breath out, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it."

You exhale, fire, and immediately duck down behind the low wall of the roof edge.

"Fuck! Did I get him? Did I?" You excitedly quiz Frank who's assessing your work.

A slow smile creeps across his lips.

"Oh yeah..." He drawls.

You giggle. "Is he pissed?"

Frank starts hurriedly packing up his rifle, grabbing yours too. "Yep, more than I thought he'd be. I'd say we've got about 3 minutes to get the hell off this roof and disappear."

Your face paled. "Shit, Frank! Shit!"

Getting hunted down by the Devil was a thrill you'd experienced once before but on this particular occasion it was not one you were keen to repeat. You swore you could still feel the bite marks. You much preferred being the biter.

Frank handed you the guns. "Take these, get on home. I'll stall him."

You raise a brow. "A romantic rooftop reprise?"

"You're not the only one vulnerable to my distractions." Frank winks. "I'll soften him up some…"

You lean forward kissing him hastily on the lips. "I'm just sorry I won't be there to see it. Happy anniversary, I love you both, and good luck!"

"Seeya at home princess." He calls after you. "Better have that first aid kit ready…"

You roll your eyes and bolt down the fire escape, into the alley and around the corner leaving your lovers to a fight or fuck game of roulette under the stars.

Taglist: @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados

@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @i-simp-much @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass

This is one of the best fanfics ever

The Audible Experience

DD Masterlist

Well, I finally started watching Daredevil!

“Mathew, I read you the giving tree. I have that memorized. I can’t read aloud all the time.” You give a breathy laugh in mock frustration.

“But I like your voice better!” He huffs as you continue to type in your card information for the subscription to audible.

“Mathew, you’re blind and I’m dyslexic, let’s leave the reading to the professionals? Or, even better, almost every book known to man is in braille now, YOU can read to ME!”

You laugh, putting your hands on your hips, you know it’s a worthless gesture but he can probably feel it in the air or something.

“Okay, point taken!” He laughs, reaching to hand you your credit card.

“It’s at 9 o’clock,” you laugh, “don’t knock my water over.”

“I know, I know!” Matt laughs handing you the offensive piece of plastic.

“Now, start thinking of books to read, I’m starting with the Ender’s Game novels.” You giggle buying a few extra credits to fluff out your library for your first few times.

“Why a sci-fi coming of age novel from the 80’s?” Matt smirked wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“Because, the novels, especially the sequel, pose a very fascinating moral and legal quandary about the discovery of new life and Xenocide.” You shrug, “You’re catholic, it should, theoretically, be right up your alley!”

“Okay, that’s fair. But if I’m not mistaken, you cannot say the same about the Hunger Games.” Matt laughs as your thumb pauses over the download button.

“Okay now THAT’S just freaky, there is no possible way for you to discern that from anything I just did.” You gape, eyes wide in what Matt assumed to be a very comical version of shock.

“Nope, no freaky sense needed, I just know you very well.” Matt laughed using his hand to snap your floundering mouth shut.

“Okay, fine, But I’m not reading The Devil in the White City. No serial killers for me, I got one devil in my life and that’s more than enough!” You say settling back into Matt’s side.

“Oh wow! How did you know?” He asked looking rather impressed at your guess work.

“I saw you fingering a copy of it at that book store with the braille section.” You shrug.

“I could be fingering other things.” Matt smirks wiggling his eyebrows face forward.

“Matthew! I’m appalled, Jesus is listening you know.” You laughed, throwing a pillow at his head that he didn’t attempt to dodge.

After your afternoon of debating books, you settled on your first four. Orson Scott Card’s Enders Game, Steven King’s Black House, Frank Herbert’s Dune, and William Goldman’s The Princess Bride.

You worked your way through each title, some new, some treasured favorites. These little pockets of time that you had carved out to read were your favorite. Some nights you and Matt would snuggle up to one another and drink a glass of wine letting the book play, just reveling in each others company. These nights were always pleasant, normally accompanied by Matt feeling out your features, or gently placing his hands on your pulse points one at a time. Your very skin seeming to soothe him.

Some nights you would put together a puzzle while you listened, hands fidgety and restless needing a menial task to help you concentrate. (Your favorite instance of this was when Matt bought an all red puzzle, the objective being much harder than a normal puzzle, so that he could show you how worthless he thought your pastime was. (He ended up enjoying it so much he bought you 7 more.)

Some nights you were overstimulated, Matt’s super senses were always tough to navigate, and you also tended to get overly stimulated in your own way. Sometimes for you, the lights were too bright all day and you would rest next to Matt , audiobook lulling you back to yourself as he kept his hand resting over your eyelids to block out the harsh glow of the billboard outside of the apartment. Sometimes it played into your sound proof headphones, hands placed over top of the headphones in Matt’s ears in an attempt to block as much noise as possible. It was always a perfect distraction on those nights when all you needed most, was to escape.

The nights you loved best though, we’re the ones where you conversed non stop, forcing yourselves to pause the novel to talk about plot points that tickled your brain, or struck a cord. You loved being able to pick Matt’s brain in any situation, so taking advantage of his longing to understand a plot, or see your enjoyment for something he thought to be dreadful, or something fascinating about how the law would work in that scenario, always felt rewarding.

Each book had its own fascinating qualities. You picked them mostly based on your mutual enjoyment of certain topics.

Ender’s Game was of course your pick, it was the book series that sparked your interest in ethics. If you hadn’t read this novel, you had explained to your loving partner, you wouldn’t have become a lawyer.

“Okay wait, so its illegal to have three kids?”

Yes Mathew, they have a surplus population and it’s to prevent overcrowding the planet.”

You sigh.

“So they get to have three because?” Matt questions, asking softballs so he can tee up for his big point.

“His sister was too nice, his brother was too

Mean.” You shrug, “ Needed someone who’s compassionate nature would allow them to understand the enemy in order to defeat them.”

“So Ender was just a terrible weapon, from age six, and they figured this all out by letting him kill another child?” Matt says outraged.

“Yes Mathew, that’s correct.” You nod brushing hair from his eyes.

“Hiram Graff is a war criminal.” Matt grumbles, once again pressing play on the novel.

Steven King’s Black House was the sequel to his first novel The Talisman, and your second audio book. You had both read the first novel together in the book club, where you met, in college. Your interest in the ethics of sending a child on a deadly cross country road trip, and your scathing false take down of the Sunlight Gardner’s Children’s Home were what endeared you to Matt, he found it particularly adorable that a fake scenario could make you this angry. He thought it a sin you hadn’t bothered to see where the rest of the story went, so it went on the list.

“Oh my god Matt, I’ll never drink beer again.” You shudder, nauseated by the description of a horrific death in the novel.

“Yeah, almost makes you wanna stop drinking forever.” Matt nods in affirmation.

“Also, that crow? I’m so disgusted. That’s deranged Matthew. Jack needs a break. If I were Jack, Speedy Parker would have a broken nose.” You sigh, for once thankful Matt’s apartment was never fully dark.

“I know, but hey, I’m glad you’re not a detective! Or a magical kid from LA! You also don’t have to hunt down a serial killer.” He laughs cheerfully.

“Your right! All I have to do is pin down a mafioso and his crew of neighborhood ruining cronies.” You laugh, “well, Jack and I at least have one thing in common!” You sigh.

“What’s that?” Mat laughs stroking your hair as you lay in his lap.

“We can sleep when we’re dead!”

Dune was another classic from your youth. You had read it as a child with your father, and you thought it would be nice to share a story so close to your heart with someone else. You also thought that the politics of it all would be interesting to your favorite vigilante, and enjoyed making jokes about a certain Wilson Fisk being quite similar to the titular villain in the novel.

“Oh my God!” Foggy cackles as you begin to impersonate Wilson Fisk. You had come into work that day, and every one was down in the dumps, so you tried to make light of it with jokes.

“This is MY CITY! MY HELLS KITCHEN! MY DUNE!” You shout in his gravelly style, doing a very poor job of catching his essence.

“Oh my God that’s awful!” Matt laughed, “The dune quote? Really?”

“Yes my dear Piter! He who controls the Heroine controls the universe!” You laugh manically.

“That was Madam Gao.” Foggy said swiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, well, joke’s still good.” You shrug.

“We’re gonna have to take their audible subscription!” Karen laughed, “ I won’t survive anymore of this Dune.”

“Ah, but Karen! The mystery of life isn’t a problem to solve, but a reality to experience, and you are experiencing the very best that science fiction has to offer!” You smile kissing Matt on the head as you stood from your seat. “Now my children, who needs a cup of coffee!” You smile.

“Ah, yes, the spice water. I’m assuming the sleeper must awaken?” Foggy grins and you gasp.

“Ah! Foggward! You do know Dune!” You laugh.

“Yes Y/n, I too did not get laid in college!” Foggy laughed, and Matt smiled.

“Oh yes I did! Ask Matt!”

After Dune, there was Matt’s final choice. William Goldman’s The Princess Bride. This, to you, was a shock. The Princess Bride was one of your favorite films, and one of the last Matt ever saw that left enough of an impression for him to care. What you DIDN’T know is that unlike you and your ability to rewatch the movie with great pleasure, After Matt went blind, instead of watching the film over and over, he opted for the book in braille.

“Darling? Did you drink the whole pot of coffee?” You shouted to Matt as you stared in disbelief at the empty coffee pot.

“Indeed I did.” He said solemnly from where he sat, running his hands over a legal document.

“That’s not fair Matthew! I made that pot for me and Karen!” You whined going to fill up the pot for the third time that day.

“Life isn't fair, it's just fairer than death,that’s all.” Matt sniggered.

“Shut up Matthew.”

“Sorry love.”

The Princess bride became your comfort story. You were sick? Princess bride. Couldn’t sleep? Princess Bride. Beat to hell and back? Princess bride. You started quoting it more and more in everyday life, and Karen and Foggy thought it was adorable, and so did you.

“Matt, why are we reading it if you know it line for line!” You giggled one night while you were laying in bed listening to Matt quote one of his favorite lines.

“Because, it reminds me of us!” Matt laughed. “I’m the Man in Black, and you’re my Buttercup.” He smirked.

“Matt that was terrible!” You laughed, “You don’t wear a black suit anymore!”

“Eh, it seemed like that romantic stuff you’d love so I went for it.” He smiled softly at you stroking your hair. “Ooh! Here’s the best line.

‘There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with blind affection. My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey. Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl. I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are hungry, let me bring you food, or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch. Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do.’ It’s perfect I think.” Matt smiles nuzzling into your neck.

In that moment you’re so totally captivated you find it hard to breathe. Matt of course could tell this and kept that little devilish grin on his face as you stared at him with moon eyes, glazed over in total affection.

“I would do anything for you, my Buttercup.” Matt smiled, loving the smell of your skin and the frantic beating of your heart.

“Do I love you?” You smiled, purposefully sounding puzzled, making Matt chuckle softly. “My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.”

To sum up this final moment, more perfect words were ever said than were said in The Princess Bride.

“Since the invention of the kiss, there have only been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.”

This is so so true. Billy only wanted him dead because Frank scared him. Also he knew Frank was a better solider and man than him.

Y’know when Billy said, “You know what I think? I think that maybe the only reason that you ever wanted Frank dead was so that you could pretend that he never made you feel like a man about to die.”

I think he was right. When you watch the tape there is nothing pointing to Frank being the cameraman. Gunner and Frank sound nothing alike. Frank never questioned the mission. Frank is obviously the one pulling the trigger in the tape, why would he want that to come out? Frank really just wanted to go home to his family and forget everything he did in Kandahar, he didn’t want to tell anyone about it ever. But Rawlins couldn’t let him live, not after the fear Frank made him feel. In this essay I will…

i need more Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x reader FLUFF

Matt is my little manwhore<333

All this She-Hulk drama about Matt ‘not being a one-night stand kind of guy’ is so funny to me, because I don’t understand how anybody could watch the Netflix series and not come to the conclusion that Daredevil fucks.

me: “oh no i suddenly got covid”

“ure sick in the head if your heart pounds for men who are losers. literal losers who just got a. dumped, b. traumatized, c. heartbroken.”

my brain: *coughs*

call me out then

girls be like "this is my comfort character" and then they're either dead or a murderer

she has such a way with words

Jude Duarte in The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

why so talented

Cardan and Jude by Elithien 

He is the standard

Cardan, book 1: I think of you. Often. It's disgusting and I can't stop. Now kill me, please.

Cardan, book 3: It is YOU I love. My heart is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours. *runs out of the room*

WHY IS THIS SO TRUE

Jude literally stabbed her own hand, murdered someone, and poisoned herself, but was still scared of a skinny white boy with the inability to stay sober

It’s not a want, it’s a gut-wrenching need

You know what? We need the cruel prince trilogy from Cardan's POV. I need to know his thoughts and his feelings throughout all three books. I need to see how much he longed for Jude, how much he missed her when she was in the undersea, I need his POV from those most wretched hours when he believed she would never return to him, i need it!!!

SO FUCKING TALENTED

A Jurdan commission for @brambleberrycottage, which was ordered in following words: as magnificently, awesomely outfutted as you please, reprehensibly in love, dangerous as hell, and indisputably the rulers of Elfhame

You can now grab a print of it here~!

Hi;) I’m ash!