#(that’s not me being self deprecating it’s just the facts of having few friends before college and not keeping in touch plus knowing people

[jiminrings]

good day miss jimjiminieerings 🫡 i hope i’m not being a bother for asking this but may we 😍 with deepest humility and pleasantries 🥹 have a tiny tiny sneak peek of your brothers bff single dad au 😍👉👈 😍? again if it’s not a bother miss jimjiminieerings!!! feel free to ignore this ask if u are unable to post– im just excited 😍🙏😅🥹

fail-safe (sneak peek)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

sneak peek 01

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye.

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself.

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.”

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot.

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.”

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion.

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

.

.

sneak peek 02

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing it against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

ruh-roh new series alert :O wanna read the entire first chapter of fail-safe now + intermission 01 + chapter two + gain early access to succeeding chapters + read other exclusive content?? subscribe to my patreon :D

also to get ahead of the questions: yes, this is a general fic aka it WILL be posted on tumblr too!!!

#sneak peek

[somerandomdudelmao]

ok wait hold up can we actually just like talk for a second about Donnie's behavior in these last few pages??

Before he found out about the infection, Donnie was still very nonchalant about a lot of situations, but he always had a sense of care and compassion for certain things, like for example, his family and friends. He used a lot of sarcasm and was overall just the snarky autistic tech dude who had more love than he could even imagine giving. He had a relentless grip on his bad-boy image, was stubborn as all hell, but was a well-rounded, lovely guy!

And then the realization hit that he was going to die sooner than expected. Then...

Poof!

Now he's just a shell (Hahaahahahahaha) of who he used to be. Now all he has for himself is a bunch of self-deprecating jokes, responsibilities to pass on to others, and a lack of hope that is just so incredibly unlike him. He still has the sarcasm, sure, but this time it's a lot more dry and emotionless. There's no brevity or lightheartedness to his words anymore, it's all just a monotone mess of half-assed goodbyes and thrown out dreams for the future. Any method of survival has seemingly been lost to time for Donnie, so now he's just kinda... Accepting the fact he's gonna die soon, which only leaves him with his own decaying body and a voice he doesn't even want anymore. And judging by the way he just ignores or shrugs aside everyone's concern, it's all basically just him saying, "Welp, guess I'll die. Here's my shit, no will required."

Also another thing I noticed is that Donnie is basically not allowed to really do anything anymore because he's at risk of dying sooner than he already thinks he will. If he gets more rest and works less, his death come significantly slower.

Meaning he must feel incredibly useless right now.

I think I've also pinpointed the time when this all started happening to Donnie btw. It's a very small moment and I don't have the screenshot on me rn but I think it was in the robo-Raph comic, specifically the moment when Donnie was zooming over to Casey and went "Past" that Kraang alien dude on the way. I imagine he didn't really go past and instead went through, because u know, he's Donatello. If given the chance to commit murder, he will commit, and he very much had the chance right there. I think he went through that Kraang alien, (Very plausible given how fast he was going like jesus- ) got its blood inside a cut or something, and it infected him via his veins or something. Kind of a stretch to assume this since it literally could've been something that took place before the time of this comic series, but this was the earliest instance of foreshadowing/possible infection that I can think of.

I also want to apologize for making all those jokes about like taking you to court and throwing you in jail and stuff because maybe they came off as mean or rude at some points. And for constantly flooding your inbox lol-

Thanks for existing and for making this comic, and congrats on beating the deadline at work! I think you deserve a cookie for that! *Gives a million more cookies* oh yeah and those are for you being you

Oh my fuckiNG GoD...

I don't even know what to say to that

I guess I just want everyone else to be able to read it too because..oh shit...oh wow.

#I'm impressed #like #genuinely #don't worry i like being in jail lmao #so many people already thrown me there #this is my home now

[carelisswriting]

Late Night Hangout

Hey y'all, this is my fic for Ecto Implosion!!

my artist partner for this is @i-havenothingelsetopost and y'all should definitely check out them and the art they made for this fic!! Art's linked in the scene it directly inspired :)

Anyway, here's the fic!

It was weird, seeing Tucker in a hospital bed. The flowers and ‘Get Well Soon!’ card tried to soften the harsh blow, but it really didn’t work.

Danny didn’t like that Tucker was in the hospital.

(He really didn’t like the fact that he hadn’t even been allowed to see him, the first day.)

It made something in his chest hurt.

The thought of Tucker being injured.

It had been stupid.

So stupid.

A second too late, and now his best friend-

His best friend.

Tucker.

-was hurt.

Danny should’ve been quicker, should’ve been-

“Hey.”

Danny shook his head, coming back to reality instead of being lost in his own thoughts.

Sam gave him a worried look from the other side of Tucker’s bed, as Tucker chewed on his lip.

“It wasn’t your fault, Danny.” Tucker said, always seeming to know what Danny was worried about.

It was though, it was.

It had just been a regular ghost attack, Johnny, Shadow, and Kitty causing problems on one of their ‘dates’. Danny had almost been having fun chasing them down, but-

But he hadn’t realized that Skulker was also causing havoc.

Hadn’t realized that Tucker had been dealing with him alone, Sam was with Danny-

Hadn’t realized that Skulker threw Tucker into a wall-

(Danny felt it, when Tucker got hurt.)

(Skulker hadn’t had a good time, after that.)

“Danny, snap out of it!” Tucker said, sounding annoyed.

He focused back onto Tucker, who had a frown on his face.

“How many times do I have to say it’s not your fault? I’m the one who tried to face Skulker without any backup or powers.”

There was a slight note of self-deprecation to Tucker’s voice, which Danny couldn’t let stand.

Neither could Sam, as it happened.

“It was stupid, but you could’ve beat him if you had some of your tech with you, Tucker.” Sam said, glaring lightly at one of her best friends.

Danny nodded in agreement, before adding “Besides, you know that you’re not a good match against Skulker! If it was Technus, you would’ve had him!”

Tucker leaned back against the pillow, giving a harsh sigh.

“Yeah, but I left everything except Janet at home, like an idiot. And now I’m in the hospital for the next three days, for ‘observation’.”

“C’mon Tuck, it won’t be that bad.” Danny said, trying to cheer him up.

Tucker rolled his eyes.

“It will. You know how much I hate hospitals.”

Danny did know.

Tucker had despised them ever since his grandfather died. He had hated watching as the man slowly died of cancer, but still went to visit him all he could despite it.

Danny had tried so, so hard to be there for Tucker during that.

Tucker said it’d helped a lot.

Sam grabbed Tucker’s hand.

“We’ll come visit you every day, okay?”

Tucker nodded “I know. And thanks.”

Danny grabbed Tucker’s other hand, completing their little chain.

“Yeah, and I’ll bring you all the homework you miss.”

Tucker laughed at that.

“More like you’ll come pester me about helping you with it!”

Danny laughed along.

He would definitely come annoy Tucker into helping him with homework.

(Not that Tucker would mind.)

A nurse ducked his head into the room, calling out “Visiting hours are ending!” before quickly moving onto the next room.

Tucker, Sam and Danny sighed as one, before looking at each other and giggling.

“I’ll see you two losers tomorrow.” Sam said, before grabbing her backpack.

Danny smiled at Tucker.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

\(oo)/

Danny was woken up by a ding! From his phone.

He groaned at seeing that it was still dark out.

Who the heck was texting him-

Oh.

It was Tucker.

Also, it was 2 AM.

Danny opened up the text message.

‘hey can u come hang with me? i can’t sleep’

Danny frowned, before replying.

‘yeah np, be there in a few’

He hated that Tucker had to be in the hospital overnight.

Danny shoved his phone into his backpack, along with his homework.

The teacher was gonna give Danny Tucker’s makeup work for today (well, technically yesterday) tomorrow, but Tuck would appreciate seeing it beforehand.

Also, then Danny could get him to explain what the heck their biology teacher was talking about.

(Danny did not like biology. At all.)

(At least living biology.)

(Ghost biology was way more of his thing.)

He transformed, rings of light traveling over him, before grabbing his backpack and darting out his window.

\(oo)/

Danny hovered outside of the hospital, trying to figure out which room was Tucker’s.

It was not easy to tell which was which from the outside, all of them looking the same.

At least he knew what floor it was on?

He flew closer to one of the windows, peeking inside to see if it was Tucker.

It wasn’t.

A small child, maybe 7? Looked out at him with an expression of glee on their tiny face.

He could see the kid practically vibrating as they looked at him.

He smiled at them, before holding up a finger to his lips in the universal sign for ‘shh’.

The kid bobbed their head up and down, before miming locking their lips and throwing away the key, then they held their hands up in the shape of a heart.

That was adorable, who’d taught them that?

Phantom smiled, and made a thin layer of ice on the window in the shape of a tiny blob ghost, with a small heart next to it.

It shouldn’t melt for at least a day.

He really hoped the kid liked it.

He looked back at them, seeing that their eyes were full of stars, their mouth open in awe.

Well, guess that answered whether they liked it.

Phantom waved goodbye at the kid, before flying towards the next window.

(Meanwhile, Sammy was so excited to tell their mom about this in the morning. Phantom had come to see them!!! This made being in the hospital totally worth it. He was the absolute coolest hero, even if Sammy’s mom thought he looked a bit creepy. Sammy didn’t think he did, but that was what their mom said every time Phantom came up. Sammy didn’t care though. Phantom was the best hero.)

He finally managed to find the right window after a minute more of peeking into windows, seeing Tucker sitting on his bed, messing with his PDA.

Danny floated through the window, before peeking over Tucker’s shoulder.

He was coding something, though Danny could not for the life of him tell what.

(Tucker had tried to teach Danny coding basics once. It did not go well. He kept forgetting semicolons were a thing that existed.)

Tucker didn’t even startle at Danny’s sudden appearance, far too used to his best friend’s antics by now.

“Thanks for coming dude.” Tucker said, eyes still focused on the code.

“Don’t worry about it, Tuck.” Danny said, floating over to sit next to Tucker’s bed.

Well, not next to Tucker’s bed, exactly.

More like floating in the air in a sitting position next to it, really.

Tucker finished whatever it was he had been doing, setting down his PDA on the nightstand.

He turned to smile at Danny “Not everyone would show up at 2 in the morning to comfort their friend.”

Danny shrugged, trying to pretend that he wasn’t ever not going to show up when Tucker asked.

“Really, it’s not like I had anything better to do.”

Tucker laughed, a low sound as he tried to keep his voice down.

“That’s fair. It’s not like you were working on homework.”

“Well….” Danny said, drawing out the word as he set the backpack down.

Tucker smiled, fond and exasperated.

“What is it now?”

Danny pouted, flipping upside down in the air.

“Normal biology makes no sense and is the bane of my existence.”

Tucker rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that bad.”

Danny gave Tucker his best pleading look.

“C’mon, please?”

Tucker sighed “Fine, but Danny, you just have to remember-“

Tucker launched into a ramble about their current biology assignment, and Danny flipped right side up, trying his best to listen.

It was strange, how much of this Tucker had managed to memorize.

Some of Sam’s rants must’ve stuck in his brain.

(Or maybe Tucker just really liked learning about animal life cycles.)

Danny, meanwhile, tended to just tune Sam out.

And also Tucker, he realized.

He had no clue what he had been saying.

Tucker paused for a moment, seeing Danny looking completely lost.

“Look just- Give me the book, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Danny grabbed his biology textbook, handing it over to Tucker.

Tucker flipped it open, motioning for Danny to give him a pencil.

Danny smiled at how sure Tucker was that Danny would give him a pencil without him asking.

Of course, Danny did give him it almost immediately.

“So, if you see here-“

Danny crossed his legs, floating a little over the edge of the bed as he listened to Tucker.

(Who was really cute when he was explaining something- no don’t go there.)

\(oo)/

It took an hour, but Tucker had finally managed to explain the concepts used on the assignment well enough that Danny was pretty sure he wouldn’t fail.

So, that was good.

Tucker closed the textbook, handing it over to Danny.

“Thanks Tuck. I probably won’t fail it.”

Tucker snorted “You definitely won’t fail it. Or at least if you do, it won’t be my fault.”

Danny rolled his eyes.

He flipped around, laying in the air as he looked at Tucker.

“You’re okay, right? I know that you hate hospitals but I just wanted to check because-“

“I’m fine, Danny. Hospitals suck, I hate being here, but I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.” Tucker said, cutting him off.

Danny turned away, looking at the visiting hours sheet on the wall instead of at Tucker.

“I don’t- It’s my fault, though.”

He heard Tucker sigh.

“Danny. It wasn’t your fault that I got hurt, okay? It was mine. I shouldn’t have gone out alone, especially against Skulker.”

Danny could hear the self-deprecation in Tucker’s voice.

Again.

Danny hated it when he did that, acted like he wasn’t worth it, wasn’t capable, just because he didn’t have powers.

He twisted back around to glare at Tucker, his annoyance overtaking his guilt.

 “Tuck, it’s not your fault! And don’t talk like that! You’re my best friend, and you’re awesome! With or without powers.”

Tucker smiled, and Danny realized that Tucker had been trying to get him to look at him.

Danny rolled his eyes, but didn’t turn back around.

“Look, how about we agree that it’s neither of our faults, and neither of us need to feel bad about it?” Tucker said.

Danny sighed, but nodded.

“Yeah, that’s… that’s fair.”

Tucker beamed, before grabbing Danny’s hand and tugging him into a hug. Danny went with the motion, not bothering to fight it.

Tucker’s hugs were great.

They stayed there for a moment, before Tucker let Danny go, a smile on his face.

Danny floated away slightly, hovering on his back, before flipping his head upside down to look at Tucker with a grin.

And then he heard the door open behind him.

Oh crap-

He twisted up, moving his torso in way that wasn’t exactly something humans could do, seeing that there was a nurse standing there.

She had a look of shock on her face, a hand brought up to her mouth.

Danny went invisible.

Damn, he really hoped Tucker could cover for this.

It would be a nightmare if Danny’s parents got called.

Danny darted into the corner, not wanting to deal with the nurse accidentally walking through him if she went over to Tucker’s bed.

(It was a disconcerting feeling, someone passing through him when he was a ghost. Not for him, really, he barely noticed, but Sam and Tucker had told him that it felt like there were invisible fingers trailing over their skin, when they’d tested it out.)

The nurse stood there a moment more, frozen in her surprise.

Danny saw Tucker cringe slightly.

“Um, hey? What’s up?”

The nurse shook her head, before saying hesitantly “I, you didn’t see anything?”

Tucker grabbed his PDA from the nightstand, fiddling with it.

“Nope, nothing. Who- What would even be there?”

He was not a good liar.

Danny sighed, just slightly.

The nurse turned towards the sound, but just shook her head again.

“Nothing, I don’t know. I thought I saw something. Don’t worry about it.”

A bright smile came on her face, obviously practiced for dealing with patients.

“So, any issues? Any pain? We’re still on the lookout for any internal bleeding.” She said as she picked up Tucker’s chart, looking at something on it.

Tucker flipped over his PDA, his fingers twitching like he wanted to start typing something.

“I’ve been okay, just couldn’t sleep.”

The nurse glanced up at him.

“Do you want some melatonin? It can’t mess up any of the blood thinners, antibiotics, or pain meds we’ve got you on, and it’ll help you sleep.”

Danny’s eyes widened.

Blood thinners? Danny hadn’t realized that they’d put Tucker on anything like that.

He’d figured that he’d be on antibiotics and pain meds, but blood thinners?

Why was he on blood thinners?

Weren’t those for when someone got surgery-

Tucker shrugged.

“I mean, sure? I might not take it right away.”

The nurse nodded, her smile still fixed on her face.

“Okay, I’ll bring that in for you.”

She stepped outside the room, and Danny followed her.

He was curious, and also-

Tucker was on blood thinners, apparently.

And hadn’t told Danny.

Had his injuries been more serious than he’d said? He’d insisted it was just some bruising, that they were being overcautious with the observation.

Danny poked his head through the wall, watching as the nurse leaned against the wall, holding a hand to her chest.

Oh. He’d really scared her.

She was mumbling under her breath.

“It was nothing Kate, you don’t need to freak out about it, of course there wasn’t a ghost in your patient’s room at 3 AM, that would be ridiculous-“

She continued to mutter to herself, before pushing off the wall and walking down the hallway.

Danny felt pretty bad about scaring her, but he couldn’t exactly apologize.

…Maybe he should just, leave her something nice?

He looked over to the nurse’s station.

He drifted over.

It was full of papers, patient charts and schedules and a bunch of stuff that looked way too medical-y for Danny to want to deal with.

He bit his lip, thinking.

Maybe she’d just like a flower?

Girls liked flowers.

Danny carefully formed a flower out of ice, one that looks kinda like a daisy maybe?

Danny was better at remembering what flowers looked like than what they were called.

(Also, he wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a ghost flower.)

(Again, he was better at remembering what they looked like than what they were called, or where he found them.)

Satisfied with his small apology, Danny ducked back through the wall into Tucker’s room.

And then he remembered, oh right, Tucker, maybe, was lying about his injuries.

Tucker was typing something on his PDA, but he looked up when Danny came back into the room.

Danny was still invisible, but Tucker and Sam had figured out that when he entered a room, even if he was invisible, the temperature dropped slightly.

No one else had noticed that yet, but Tucker thought it was great, since it meant he knew where Danny was.

Danny did not think that it was great right now.

“Dude, what were you even doing?” Tucker said, putting down his PDA.

Danny faded back into visibility, trying to keep his face blank, or at least close to it.

“I was checking on the nurse. I scared her a lot, Tuck.”

Tucker grimaced.

“Yeah, but you knew what you look like when you’re in shadow.”

Danny did.

Apparently, something about low light made him look more ghostlike, stretching out his proportions and blurring his features. He never noticed it, but Tucker had tried to describe it to him as best as he could.

Sam had grinned and said that he looked awesome, like he was from a horror movie.

(Danny hadn’t liked that description. He didn’t want to be scary.)

(Sam hadn’t said it again.)

“Also, your eyes were reflecting the light, like a cat or something.” Tucker added, drawing Danny’s attention back to him.

Danny frowned.

“They were? That’s new.”

Tucker shrugged.

“Looked cool, though.”

It probably had.

“I gave her an ice flower, the nurse I mean. I wanted to aplogize.” Danny said.

Tucker grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’ve got a crush-“

Danny groaned.

“Tuck, seriously, you do not have to say that anytime I give a girl anything.”

Tucker laughed.

“I know, but your reactions are so funny.”

Danny sighed.

He knew that he needed to stop reacting, if he actually wanted Tucker to stop.

But it got under his skin, when Tucker teased him about having crushes on girls.

(Danny tried not to think about why that was.)

He floated closer to Tucker’s bed, a small frown on his face.

The nurse would probably be back soon.

But Danny really wanted to know what was happening with Tucker’s injuries.

“Tuck, why are you on blood thinners?”

Tucker looked away, all of the humor gone.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

Danny huffed.

“What do you mean? Just tell me!”

Tucker sighed, before looking pleadingly at Danny.

“Don’t freak out, but I had surgery. That’s why I’m on blood thinners.”

Danny reeled back.

Tucker had surgery?

His injuries had been bad enough for that?

(Danny had failed that badly?)

“You- you were that hurt?” Danny asked, his voice wavering.

Tucker got a look of panic on his face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Danny I swear, it was almost nothing, they just had to fix some internal bleeding-“

“You had internal bleeding?” Danny screeched.

Tucker nodded hesitantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Danny asked, hurt in his voice.

Had Tucker been mad at him for failing to protect him-?

“I didn’t want you to worry, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds-“

The door opened.

Danny went invisible almost immediately this time, not wanting to scare the nurse again.

She looked less freaked out, a smile fixed on her face.

“Here’s that melatonin, sorry that it took me so long to get.”

She handed Tucker a small cup, two pills in it.

“Once you take those, it should be easier for you to fall asleep.”

Tucker nodded, giving her a small smile.

“Thanks.”

He glanced to the corner Danny was in, as the nurse did one last check of his vitals.

Danny sighed almost silently from his corner.

He’d failed, he’d let Tucker get hurt-

Tucker hadn’t told him.

The nurse left, telling Tucker to go to sleep as she did.

Danny faded back into visibility, his face downcast.

Tucker sighed at his expression.

“Danny, I didn’t want you to worry-“

“Tell me next time.” Danny said pleadingly, desperately.

If he didn’t know when he’d failed, he couldn’t try to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Tucker shook his head, not in denial but in exasperation.

“Okay. I’ll tell you next time.”

Danny felt relief travel through him, settling something in his core.

He needed to know when Tucker, or Sam, got hurt.

He needed to make sure it didn’t happen again.

Danny floated forward, before hugging Tucker.

Tucker rolled his eyes, leaning into the hug.

“Is this some ghost thing? Feels like a ghost thing.”

Danny laughed, rolling his eyes right back at Tucker.

“Really, it’s a ghost thing to care about my friends now-?”

Tucker shoved lightly at Danny, humor in his face.

“Shut up, you know what I mean-“

Danny grinned, leaning back, still floating in front of Tucker.

“It’s not a ghost thing, Tuck. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Tucker smiled softly at Danny at the sentiment behind his words.

Danny looked away, feeling his face heat up.

Tucker laughed slightly at Danny’s apparent embarrassment.

(It wasn’t embarrassment. He just couldn’t handle Tucker smiling at him like that, it was so full of love-)

Danny looked back at him, seeing Tucker grinning at him.

He crossed his arms with a huff, dramatic and insincere.

“You don’t have to annoying about it-“

Tucker cut him off with another laugh, before he looked over to his PDA, seeing the time.

He sighed.

Danny glanced over as well, seeing that it was almost 4 AM.

He needed to get home, heck-

His mom was always up at six, and she checked on Danny and Jazz at the same time.

And Danny would really like to get some more sleep before he was inevitably woken up by his mom checking on him.

He looked back to Tucker, an apologetic look on his face.

“I gotta go, sorry-“

Tucker waved him off.

“No worries. Thanks for coming to hang out.”

Danny smiled, about to grab his bag-

And then he had a very impulsive thought.

He wavered for a moment.

Before deciding, yeah, it’s worth it.

He leaned forward, giving Tucker a kiss on the cheek.

Tucker looked at him in complete surprise.

Danny smiled softly at him, and Tucker blushed.

(Ha, sweet revenge.)

Danny felt all of his sudden confidence leave him in moments.

He’d actually just done that, Ancients-

He darted away, grabbing his bag quickly.

“So uh, yeah no problem, I’ll see you at school-!” Danny said in a rush, before flying out of the window.

He was halfway to his house before he remembered that no, he wouldn’t see Tucker at school, because Tucker was still gonna be in the hospital for a few more days.

He was such a mess.

He couldn’t believe he’d just done that, kissed Tucker on the cheek.

(He wished he could do it again.)

\(oo)/

Tucker watched as Danny flew away.

He held a hand to his cheek.

His best friend had just kissed him.

On the cheek, but still.

He’d kissed Tucker.

A soft smile came onto his face.

If Danny felt the same-

Oh, Tucker was so going to flirt with him when he came back in the morning.

Danny wasn’t gonna know what hit him.

He took the melatonin pills, laying down to wait for the sleepiness to hit him.

Tucker grinned to himself.

This was going to be fun.

And maybe he’d get a boyfriend out of it.

A man could dream.

#danny phantom #savant par #my writing #ectoimplosion2023 #tucker foley #fanfiction

[audhd-nightwing]

steve and robin go to a gay club in indianapolis and steve cannot stop staring at this guy with long dark curls that’s wearing chains and a leather jacket (which steve thought was the opposite of his type but apparently not).

steve himself is wearing a croptop and high-waisted jeans that “make his ass look amazing” (according to robin) and he even let them put some sparkly shit on his face because why the fuck not at this point. he’s been covered in blood and monster guts, he can handle wearing makeup.

anyway, the point is steve knows he looks good. its not him bragging, it’s just a fact of life. the sky is blue, water is wet, and steve harrington is hot. that’s just how it is.

so when steve sees the hot guy across the room, he doesn’t doubt that they’ll think he looks good. it’s just… steve, despite being a notorious playboy, is actually fucking awful at flirting.

because of this, steve decides to simply pine from afar and mope while robin is having the time of their life (sometimes he really hates being the designated driver, but alas, he’s the only one that can actually drive).

robin, being the amazing and observant friend they are, immediately notices this and begins scheming. when steve looks away to ask the bartender for a coke (poor guy), robin meanders their way through the crowd and over to the guy steve was eyeing up.

they tap him on the shoulder and the guy turns around, cocking his head in question.

“hey, my friend over there thinks you’re hot but is terrible at flirting so i decided to be a good friend and wingman for him,” they yell over the music.

the guy blinks, looks from them to steve and back, before whipping his head around again to gape at steve. robin isn’t sure how to take that until the guy asks, incredulously,

“is that steve fucking harrington?”

robin panics because oh shit this guy knows steve which means they accidentally outed steve to some guy who apparently knows him?? (and who is still staring at him dumbstruck). robin squints their eyes suspiciously and replies

“…and what if it was?”

the guy snaps his attention back to robin and open and closes his mouth a few times before blurting out

“do you- does he not know who i am?”

now it’s robins turn to be confused because why the fuck would steve know this guy? the man obviously reads this in their expression because he drags a hand down his face before stating

“i’m eddie munson. the ‘freak’ of hawkins high? king steve’s number one rival?”

“don’t fucking call him that,” robin spits out venomously. they’ve had to help steve out of self-deprecating panic attacks too many times because of that fucking title and will not hesitate to punch this guy for using it.

“okay, jeez. but seriously, do neither of you recognize me? i don’t know if i should be offended or not,” eddie ponders aloud.

robin huffs and rolls their eyes. steve really knew how to pick ‘em (aka snarky and a bit cocky).

“whatever, he’s changed a lot- obviously- so if you’re not a dick then the offer still stands,” robin responds.

eddie looks over at steve again and sighs to himself. he never would’ve guessed he’d see steve fucking harrington in a croptop, let alone a gay bar, let alone interested in him.

and eddie was never one to waste an opportunity so…

“i’ve been into him since the moment i fucking saw him at hawkins high, there is no way i’m refusing that offer,” he replies.

robin laughs and pulls eddie through the crowd and towards steve. eddie kinda feels like he’s dreaming when steve looks over at him and blushes, pink splotches decorating his face.

wow, eddie thinks, he really is the stuff of dreams

#steddie #steddie mini fic #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stobin friendship #wingman robin #they/them pronouns for robin #nonbinary robin buckley #mlm steve harrington #gay eddie munson

[sorencd]

could you write something about reader being scared of wilson cheating on her but then he conforts her? cuz with the history of cheating that he has i would be scared lmao

SANCTUARY

a/n : thank u sm for the req! i love me some good old comfort w wilson. i don't know how this turned into 1.4k i told myself i would keep it short lol. reader is a doctor btw! and charlotte is the name i gave ur friend :)

w.c. : 1.4k

"dude, are you okay?"

your friend's sudden voice that came out of nowhere brought you back from your mindless gazing, you didn't even notice that you were absent-mindedly staring off into space. a few patients got scared because they thought you were judging them with your stare, and after a few complaints, your friend finally approached you to ask if you were okay.

"hm?"

"you're definitely not okay."

"i'm- yeah! i'm totally fine. you were saying?"

she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, not believing a single word that came out of your lips. you knew your actions were giving away too much, but even if you tried hiding the fact that something was bothering you, she'd probe and pry more relentlessly.

"what's wrong? there's something wrong. are you okay?"

you sighed defeatedly, there's no more escaping her. figuring that there isn't much to do aside from telling her what's on your mind, you pulled your friend into an empty room and shut the door. resting your back against the surface and in a hushed whisper, ushered her to come closer.

"are you pregnant?"

"what- no! charlotte what on earth- say that again and i'm no longer telling you."

"ok ok! i'm shutting the fuck up. you may continue."

a brief pause encapsulated the unoccupied room before you opened your lips hesistantly. opening up to people was something you always found hard to do, whether they be a family member or a close friend, you could never easily voice out your thoughts. but you couldn't really hold this in any longer, you needed to tell someone.

"i've been feeling... an awful lot insecure lately. not the kind that involves my appearance! that's saved for tuesdays."

"then what kind?"

"it.. it's about wilson.."

"what did he do? do you need me to chop off his-"

"no no! none of that! it's just... i'm scared i'll just end up as another ex-this or ex-that or someone that house would mention to him and james would gag whenever he hears my name. i don't know maybe i'm just being over-dramatic."

"have you tried telling wilson about how you’re feeling?"

"i've tried starting the conversation.. but i'd always end up chickening out. so now i'm stuck with these self-deprecating thoughts and i don't like it one bit." you ended with a huff, hiding your face behind your hands and tiredly letting your shoulders slouch down. "it's hard talking to patients when every single one of them would ask me if 'everything's alright', i should be the one asking them that!"

"you know, you shouldn't be bottling your feelings. a relationship goes two ways, don't be scared to tell any of this to wilson! asking for reassurance is never a bad thing, and it doesn't make you needy or demanding or whatever, it's your right as his partner! i'm sure wilson would understand, he loves you very much, how could he not?"

"you're right.. i'll talk to him when he have lunch together."

"you won't chicken out?"

"i won't. i swear."

"you better. i'll be watching you."

you quickly opened the door to avoid staying in the room for too long, you didn't want someone to catch you too talking about personal matters. charlotte waved you off before returning back to her department, leaving you alone. you decided that for the remainder of your vacant and spare time you were going to rehearse what you plan on telling wilson, you didn't want to embarrass yourself and stutter the entire time. so you scurried away into your office, determined to go through with your plan.

if anyone were to press their ear against the door, they would have heard your incessant muttering and would've thought you were insane. you had your feet propped up on the table as you recited word for word how you were going to tell all of this to wilson, despite knowing that when the time comes, all of it would be useless and you'd go completely off script. but it gets your mind off of things so you carried on. a familiar knocking pattern resounded over your hushed whispering, it was wilson. he had this specific knocking style that you grew accustomed too. you felt a shiver run down and a dreaded feeling dripped in each step you took on your way to open the door for james, since you kept it locked, not wanting anyone to see you panicking in your office. you twisted the door knob slowly, and behind it was wilson. standing happily and his usual dorky smile making an appearance when he saw your face.

"hi."

"hi. you ready to grab lunch?"

you turned your head to the side before answering, a habit that always showed whenever you were nervous and you never seemed to be able to get rid of it. to try and avoid him from gaining any suspicion that something's wrong and notice how tense and sweaty your palms were, you tried making small talk. 'i'm not myself at all.'

the entire short walk to the canteen you listened to wilson ramble about some case house had, and how they're having a hard time diagnosing the patient. and no matter how hard you tried focusing on wilson's voice the gnawing feeling won't stop buzzing and crawling at the back of your mind, you felt sick.

wilson, from the moment you opened the door to your office, knew something was up. you didn't have that bright favorite smile of his, nor did you have any snarky remarks to say while he was storytelling. you didn't contribute to the conversation at all, and it wasn't like you. it carried on even until you two came back from the canteen and retreated to his office. he wanted to ask you what's wrong, but he didn't want to pressure you into saying anything you aren’t ready to tell him. so instead he waited until you were the one to approach him. he was also half-nervous that if he ever asked, you'd just suddenly blurt out that you two should break up. and he'd rather not have that happen.

"james.. i'm..." now it was wilson's turn to be nervous. "you love me, right?"

you had this.. sad look on your face that wilson wasn't used to, he couldn’t describe it. you looked defeated, tired even. he began to replay the last few days, you were fine! you were your usual, loving, witty, happy self!

"yes, of course i do." he replied with all seriousness, dropping the files he picked up to reorganize them. "why do you ask?"

"it's nothing, really. and i don't know why i did."

he gently approached you, careful not to seem condescending when he gently took a hold of both your wrists.

"i'm pretty sure you going quiet is never a good idea and is 'nothing'. come on sweetheart, you can tell me anything."

when you looked up into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity, you cracked and gave in. you told him everything that was on your mind.

"i'm- i was.. i was scared, james. i was scared that you'd leave me for some... better girl or something i don't even know myself, and that i'd just end up as another one of your exes. i don't want that! i don't want any of this to end and i'm so so scared that it eventually would and i can't do anything about it and i couldn't tell you earlier because i was scare you'd get mad or somethi-"

"(y/n)."

the soft mention of your name stopped you from rambling on any further. and now you were in his embrace, his arms wrapped around you perfectly and tightly. when wilson pulled away, youhad tears threatening to fall from your eyelids.

"i'd never leave you for anyone else, (y/n). why would i when i already found the one? i already found you. you just- complete me. i can't put into words how much you make me feel content or- or happy, loved, it's like you were always here. i would have to be an idiot to let you go. besides, you know too much about me. you're stuck with me forever."

he still managed to make you laugh despite the tears running down your cheeks. you probably looked insane, laughing and crying at the same time.

"you're- i love you, james."

"i love you too, (y/n). don't ever be afraid to talk about anything, okay?"

"okay."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

#james wilson x reader #james wilson #house md

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 29: THE PERFORMANCE

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Pregnancy Loss, Infertility

Chapter Note:

This chapter explores the next six weeks from Cillian’s Point of View.

Cillian’s POV

A few days following your latest encounter at Cillian’s apartment, Dermont and Cillian sat at the pub, drinking pints of Guinness. The dimly lit room echoed with the sound of lively conversation and clinking glasses. Outside, rain drizzled down on the streets of Dublin, adding to the gloomy atmosphere that matched the melancholic state of their minds.

Cillian took a long sip from his pint, contemplating the weight of recent events, including the break up with you and the fact that, again, Nina was struggling with his separation from Danielle.

While Nina’s mental health was something Cillian and Danielle had addressed in recent days, following her having run off from his apartment, the breakup with you still had left him shattered. It was something he could not come to terms with and struggled to accept.

"You know, Dermont," Cillian began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "I can't stop thinking about her. It's driving me mad."

Dermont took a swig of his Guinness, his eyes narrowing as he studied his troubled friend. "You are still caught up on her? Jesus, man," he spoke.

"I can't help it," Cillian confessed. "She's all I think about,” he admitted in the midst of being somewhat tipsy and Dermont leaned back and crossed his arms.

"I have to admit, Cillian, I never understood why you let her go in the first place,” his friend pointed out, causing Cillian to sigh.

"It's the age difference, Dermont," Cillian lamented. "She is half my age, for God's sake. It felt wrong,” he explained and Dermont tilted his head, a sceptical expression on his face. "Age is just a number, my friend. If there's love, it transcends all that rubbish.”

Cillian snorted and took a sip of his Guinness. "You make it sound so simple, man."

"Because it is," Dermont affirmed. "Besides, you're not getting any younger either, mate."

Cillian glared at his friend playfully. "Thanks for the reminder, Dermont,” he said before asking his friend what to do.

“You should try and resolve this. If you want her back, then tell her,” Dermont pointed out and Cillian's face contorted with uncertainty. "I don't know, Dermont. I don't even know if she'd want me back after the way I ended things."

Dermont scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, the classic self-deprecating Cillian Murphy. Trust me, mate, shoot your shot. You never know until you try."

Cillian chuckled, his eyes lighting up with a newfound determination before remembering something else that, just days ago, you had told him about when you were made to resign.

Cillian, of course, then told Dermont all about it, including the fact that there had been an email that was sent to the dance academy, signed off by a “concerned parent”.

“I thought me and Connie were the only ones who knew at the time?” Dermont acknowledged, resulting in Cillian to nod.

“From the parents, yes…” he determined as the discovery of someone sabotaging your career had ignited a fiery determination within him. He couldn't let this stand and wanted to know who did this to you.

Dermont, ever the curious friend, frowned as he listened to Cillian tell him about the email that had, apparently, given rise to your forced resignation. "Who could have done it then, you think?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Cillian sighed heavily, the lines of worry etched deep on his forehead. "I don't know, Dermont. I can't think of anyone who would stoop so low," he replied, frustration evident in his voice.

Dermont's eyes narrowed as a thought struck him like a lightning bolt. "What about Kit? She knew…" he suggested, causing Cillian's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"Kit? Why would you suspect her?" Cillian questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. Kit had always seemed loyal.

Dermont leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think about it, Cillian. Kit knows how much you still love Y/N, and you fucked her. Perhaps she grew jealous and decided to take matters into her own hands” he suggested.

Cillian's mind spun with the possibility, a flicker of doubt igniting within him. Could Kit have orchestrated this? He mulled over Dermont's theory, his eyes clouded with suspicion.

“It was just sex, man. Kit said so herself,” Cillian pointed out though while running a hand through his unruly hair. “I just can't imagine her doing something like that,” he then told his friend.

Dermont leaned back, resting his pint on the table. "Are you sure about that, mate? Kit's been acting a bit off lately. She knew how much you love Y/N, and let's face it, jealousy can turn even the sweetest of assistants into vengeful email-senders,” Dermont said jokingly, causing Cillian to chuckle momentarily.

"Don't ruin Kit for me, Dermont. She's been nothing but supportive and she is a pretty good assistant,” he pointed out as he could not believe that it may be her who sent the email.

 Dermont leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But what if she's secretly in love with you and can't bear the thought of you being with someone else? People do crazy things for love, mate. Crazy things,” he pointed out.

Cillian stared at Dermont, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just pulling his leg. "You can't be serious. Kit has been with me for years,” he said.

Dermont shrugged, a devilish grin on his face. "Hey, I'm just saying. It's worth considering. Love can make a person do all sorts of mad stuff,” he argued.

Cillian rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his Guinness. "You watch too many telenovelas, Dermont. Kit is not the culpri-" he began to say and, just as Cillian was about to finish his sentence, his phone buzzed, signalling a new message. He pulled it out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, eyes widening as he read the name on the display - Kit.

"Speak of the devil," Dermont chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Go on, mate. See what she wants,” Dermont told him and Cillian hesitated for a moment before opening the message. His eyes darted across the screen, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"She... she just sent me a meme of a cat wearing a hat, some Oppenheimer thing…" Cillian laughed, and Dermont burst into laughter, doubling over with mirth. "Oh, mate, you were so close to discovering her sinister plot, and she distracts you with pictures of dapper felines. She's good,” he joked.

Cillian's forehead creased with frustration as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "I can't believe I'm even entertaining this nonsense, Dermont. Kit would never betray me like that,” he was certain, but Dermont was not.

Dermont wiped away a tear of laughter, struggling to compose himself. "Okay, okay, I'll drop it. But remember, cats in hats can be dangerously distracting, especially those which build atomic weapons. Stay vigilant, my friend,” he carried on, and Cillian shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're an ejeet. I don't know how you come up with this stuff,” Cillian acknowledged, causing Dermont to wink playfully.

"It's a gift, mate. A gift that keeps on giving,” Dermont told his friend before they clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing through the pub as they shared a moment of lighthearted camaraderie amidst the chaos of love and betrayal.

Little did they know, the truth was lurking in the shadows, waiting to unveil its twisted face. And when it did, everything would change.

But for now, they would enjoy their pints, laughter, and the blissful ignorance that only a good pub session could provide. The mysteries could wait; they had Guinness to savour.

***

About two weeks later, Cillian and Dermont were still hunting for cues, and it was Nina who told them both to give up and let it be. According to Nina, you took up a new job with a theatre production company that specialises in musicals and dance performances, and it was one of those performances that she wanted to see.

Nina had followed you on Instagram and Facebook for weeks, and you stayed in touch. You offered her some tickets to attend the show with either her mum or dad, now that you knew that Danielle no longer held a grudge against you.

In fact, she even tried to get you reemployed which, in the end, was an offer you declined even despite the fact that the owner of the dance academy apologised to you.

"Dad, you have to take me to see her perform! Can you take me? Please?" Nina thus pleaded, her blue eyes wide with anticipation after Cillian slumped onto the couch, his brow furrowing as he stared at his daughter, who was bouncing with excitement in front of him.

Cillian sighed heavily, running his fingers through his tousled hair. "Nina, we've been through this. I don't think it's a good idea," he repeated as, just two days ago, she asked him the same question.

Nina pouted, crossing her arms stubbornly. "But Dad, she's been teaching me everything she knows about dance, and I really want to see her perform.” She begged.

Cillian's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter. He hated to disappoint her, but he had his reasons for not wanting to see you perform.

"Nina, you know how things ended between us," Cillian said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“All I know is that you broke up with her,” Nina pointed out in response, to which Cillian sighed, finding it difficult to explain to his young daughter the complexities of your relationship.

"It's a complicated situation, sweetheart. We had our differences, and age played a big part in it,” he pointed out and, immediately, Nina, being the insightful teenager she was, raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Wait, Dad, are you saying you dumped her because she's young and cool?" she asked and Cillian shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling like he was on trial.

"Well, it wasn't as simple as that, but yes, age was a factor. I did not know how young she was and when I found out I realised that it couldn’t work. I didn't want her to miss out on experiences and opportunities that someone her own age could provide. Despite, my career, it…" Cillian began to say, but Nina interrupted him.

Nina crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Dad, you're being ridiculous. Your career? Really? You hooked up with your assistant, it’s all over the papers, but you are worried about bad press because of Y/N?” Nina spat, causing her father to gulp.

Cillian shook his head, willing himself to stay firm in his decision. "Nina, it's not that simple and I would rather not revisit this. Okay?” Cillian then shut her off which caused Nina to sit down next to her father, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Dad, you need to grow up. It’s okay to be in love with someone who doesn’t quite fit within your ideals. Love is an iffy little thing, worth making sacrifices for” Nina said like a grown-up and Cillian glanced at his daughter, love and pride shining in his eyes. Nina's words struck a chord within him, making him consider her perspective.

“I read this in a book at school, don’t judge” Nina then pointed out, but the words had already sunk in.

"Maybe you're right though," Cillian reluctantly admitted and Nina beamed, her blue eyes sparkling with triumph.

“Does this mean you take me to see her performance?” Nina wanted to know and Cillian nodded.

“Yes, but only because I know it means a lot to you and you grew up to be so wise” Cillian chuckled softly, giving Nina a playful nudge.

Nina squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Cillian in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Dad! You won't be disappointed, I swear!" she told him while Cillian found himself chuckling again, unable to resist his daughter's infectious enthusiasm.

"All right, calm down, you. Now, tell me more about it. Is it a ballet?” Cillian asked and Nina's eyes sparkled with excitement as she launched into an animated description of the contemporary ballet assembly you were part of.

Listening to Nina, Cillian found his curiosity piqued. Maybe it was time he saw for himself what he had been missing and, as Nina continued to regale him with tales of your talent, Cillian couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake by letting you go.

The performance was weeks away, but Cillian promised Nina that he would take her to see you. Deep down, he hoped that by witnessing your prowess on stage, he would find closure and the strength to move on. But, unfortunately for him, he would soon learn that the opposite was the case.

In the days leading up to the performance, Cillian's mind became consumed with memories of you.

He recalled your laughter, your teasing smiles, and the passion that ignited between you both, erasing any concerns about age differences or what society might think.

As the date drew nearer, Cillian's heart felt heavy, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He found himself becoming increasingly nervous and couldn't help but wonder what seeing you dance on stage again would do to him.

***

A few weeks later, when the night of your performance had arrived, Cillian waited at the theatre's entrance, fidgeting with his ticket in hand.

Nina, dressed in an elegant dress, bounced beside him and Cillian's heart swelled with pride at Nina's excitement. He took a deep breath, hoping that tonight would bring him the closure he needed.

They had good seats, three rows from the front and when Cillian took his seat in the dimly lit theatre, a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.

The lights dimmed, hushing the buzzing crowd. The stage came alive, bathed in ethereal hues of purple and blue.

The first dancers appeared, their movements captivating the audience. But Cillian's gaze remained fixed on the edge of the stage, waiting for your entrance.

And then, there you were, gracefully gliding across the stage, your body a mesmerising blur of movement.

Cillian's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his eyes hungrily drinking in every sway of your hips and arch of your back.

The music swelled, and you leapt into the air, defying gravity with an effortless elegance. The audience erupted into applause.

Cillian's heart raced, torn between the memories of what once was and the undeniable beauty he witnessed before him.

As the performance went on, Cillian found himself entranced by your talent, lost in the way your body spoke a language all its own.

He couldn't look away from you, from the raw emotion etched across your face, from the way your body moved with a combination of strength and vulnerability.

Cillian's breath hitched as you effortlessly leapt and twirled through the air, your passion radiating from every pore. It was as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

Act after act, Cillian remained glued to his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from your performance. The audience erupted in applause after each routine, but for Cillian, it was an internal symphony of emotions.

As the final act approached, Cillian's heart pounded in his chest. It was a moment of truth, a moment where he had to face his feelings head-on and decide what he truly wanted.

The lights dimmed, leaving only a single spotlight illuminating the stage. You stood there, a vision in black, poised and ready to unleash the depths of your soul through movement.

Cillian held his breath as the hauntingly beautiful music began. Every step you took seemed to echo in his heart, the ache of longing mingling with the bittersweet melody.

The dance spoke volumes, conveying a story of love and loss, of two souls intertwined in an eternal dance of desire and hesitancy. Cillian couldn't help but see himself in the narrative.

The climax of the performance drew near, a moment of climax and intensity where you and your partner poured all your emotions onto the stage. The chemistry between you was palpable.

Cillian's heart raced, his fingers involuntarily clenching around the edge of his seat. His eyes locked with yours, and he knew in that moment that he couldn't deny his feelings any longer.

The dance came to a crescendo and the audience erupted in thunderous applause, but Cillian was rooted to his spot, emotions swirling within him.

Nina's eyes flickered between you and her father, sensing his conflicted emotions.

She reached out a hand, resting it gently on Cillian's arm. "Dad, are you okay?"

Cillian tore his eyes away from you, his voice thick with emotion. "I... we should go soon” he stammered and Nina gave him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“Do you want to go and talk to her?” Nina asked as tears glimmered in Cillian's eyes.

“No, we should go,” Cillian told his daughter just as the lights came on.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murhpy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Back at My Place

Wake Up, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: crazy sweet fluff, swearing, a bit of angst at the very end

a/n: I had such a fun time with this chapter. I also realized that I have a very hard time not making Matt angsty. He’s just so self deprecating, it’s easy pickings. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy! Please comment, like, reblog, and request (you’ll seriously make my day. I love hearing what you all think.)

w/c: 3.6k

A breeze blew across a patch of exposed skin on your collar bone, making you shiver yourself awake. Opening your eyes, your surroundings confused you for a minute before you remembered that you’d been at Matt’s last night. But, the last thing you recalled was sitting with him on the couch, listening to Matt as he recounted stories from his childhood. Which mostly meant giggling at the fact that Matt has apparently always had a martyr complex. 

You must have dozed off because you were now wrapped in silk sheets in a bed that smelled like him. Had he carried you here? The thought of Matt picking you up and tucking you into his bed made warmth bloom in your stomach. You bit back a moan picturing his arms caring for you so lovingly. Sinking deeper into the pillow under your head, you inhaled deeply, smiling as you thought about laying there all day just breathing him in. 

The sound of voices outside the closed door shook you out of your fantasy. 

Pushing yourself up, you scrubbed a hand over your face before making your way out to the living room. 

Foggy was having a good morning. Marci had been up before him, miraculously, and had coffee ready for him when he woke. His favorite bakery hadn’t run out of everything bagels when he got there, which was practically unheard of on a Sunday morning. And now, he was making his way over to Matt’s to get proof of life. Which was only slightly dampening his good mood. 

He’d be less worried if the asshole had picked up his call this morning. Foggy and Marci had tried to get ahold of him, to see if you and Matt were alright after the gala, but he didn’t answer. Marci had called you a few times with similar success. So, Foggy had volunteered to go in person. 

Knocking less than politely on Matt’s door, Foggy nearly fell into the other man as the door flew open. 

“Fuck, Foggy, it’s not even 9. You want to wake the whole floor up?” 

“Thank the Lord, Saint Matthew lives another day. If you don’t want me breaking down your door this early, answer your fucking phone next time.” Foggy plastered on a smile, voice laced with false positivity. Barging past his friend into the apartment, he spun around, arms wide. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re alive, my friend. I was having a nice morning and finding you half-dead in your Devil gear really would’ve ruined that.”

“Foggy—“ Matt’s voice was low in warning, but Foggy ignored him. 

“Anyway, what happened last night? You never let us know if you two were ok.” 

“We’re fine. Snyder was being a bitch and it sent my fake girlfriend into a panic attack. Now, I’m sure you have a wonderful day with Marci to get back to and I have to get dressed for church.”

“HA! You think you can bullshit me, Murdock. Only a freshman in Matt-ology would believe that you attend regular Sunday mass. You prefer to go at night and speak directly to the clergy. What are you hiding in here?” Foggy set down his bagel, peering around corners as if expecting there to be a surprise hidden. 

“I’m not hiding anything, I just wasn’t expecting you.” Matt’s voice was hushed as he tried to herd Foggy out the door. 

“Am I not allowed to drop by anymore? What is going on with you?” 

Before Matt could respond, his bedroom door opened to reveal your startled face, which sat above an outfit picked entirely from Matt’s wardrobe, Foggy noticed.

A shit-eating grin broke out over Foggy’s face as he said your name. “Funny seeing you here.” 

You grimaced, “Hi, Foggy.” 

Matt made his way over to you. “Did we wake you up? I was trying to tell Foggy to be quiet.” 

“No, no!” You jumped in reassuringly. “I was already awake. And I’m—I’m sorry for falling asleep last night, I didn’t mean to crash here.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m sure you were tired.” Matt ran a hand over your arm before pulling you into a hug. Clearly, they had forgotten that there was a captive audience. 

Foggy cleared his throat. “So…you slept here?” 

The two of you jumped apart. Matt stepped in front of you, “It’s not like that, Fog. I gave her my bed and slept on the couch.” 

“Hey, don’t need to explain anything to me. Anyway, glad to know you’re both alive. I, um, have a…thing.” Hurrying out of the apartment, Foggy rushed home to Marci. Their plot to unite two of their favorite people was actually coming together, despite the wrench Matt had thrown into the plans by nominating you as his fake partner. 

About a month after the gala, Foggy was seriously wondering if he’d been left out of the loop on Matt’s relationship status. You and Matt were hanging out more than ever and yet didn’t admit that you weren’t pretend-dating anymore. He supposed he would need to see evidence a bit more damning than Matt comforting a friend after a tough night or spending more time with them one-on-one, but he had his suspicions. 

Sitting in his apartment, mulling through paperwork as quickly as he could, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the events of that morning. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Matt had been tucked away in his office when he arrived. Foggy didn’t plan on staying for long, since he had intended to work from home that day, but he needed to grab some files that were relevant to the case he was working on. 

Eventually, Foggy heard a door open, and—assuming that Matt was leaving his office to finally greet him—he ran out into the central room. 

“Hey, Matt, I know I said I wouldn’t be in today, I just needed to grab the Anderson files.” Foggy spoke as he walked out of his own office. But, as he looked up, he realized that Matt was still in the other room. Instead, you stood before him, holding a brown paper bag and looking like he’d caught you breaking and entering. 

“Hey Foggy! I didn’t expect you to be here. Is Matt in…” you trailed off with a vague gesture. As you pointed to Matt’s office, his door opened, revealing the blind lawyer who faced you curiously. 

“Hey, I thought I heard you. What are you doing here?” Ignoring Foggy completely—the blond looking after him incredulously—he marched over to you, a crooked grin on his lips. 

“Well, I…um—“ You stuttered, very much unable to ignore Foggy at this moment. “Remember that bakery I told you about? The one that just opened up by the Pilates studio?”

Matt nodded and you continued. “I told you that I thought you’d like their almond croissants and, I don’t know, you mentioned that you had a bad night so I thought I’d bring you one to cheer you up.” You scuffed your shoes on the floor, no longer looking at Matt. 

“That’s so sweet of you.” Matt spoke, smiling at you softly. He was a bit shocked, but more than touched by the gesture. 

“And I’m really sorry, Foggy! I would’ve gotten you one but, when we chatted last night, Matt mentioned you wouldn’t be in today so I—“ 

“Hey, no problem! I have to run home anyway. Have a good day, my little lovebirds!” Foggy brushed off your concern. You squeaked, embarrassed at his comment. Foggy waved goodbye, and headed off, hearing Matt ask you if you wanted to split the pastry as he went. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shaking his head at the memory, Foggy really hoped you two would come to your senses soon. 

A couple weeks after the croissant incident, Foggy found himself in desperate need of a break. 

“Matt, hurry up! Karen and I are thirsty!” Foggy rolled his eyes to the blonde as they waited for Matt to quit burning the midnight oil and go out with them. It was Friday, and they had just had a major breakthrough in their current case that had seemed unwinnable for weeks. 

“Alright, alright! I’m coming.” Matt shook his head fondly at his partners, grabbing his coat and cane. 

“Josie’s?” Karen questioned. 

Foggy snorted. “Do we ever go anywhere else?” He sent a text to you and Marci, letting you both know that you were invited to celebrate with them, though he did not expect Marci to take him up on that offer. 

“Why would we?” Matt grinned, taking Foggy’s arm as the three made their way to the dive bar they frequented. 

Arriving at Josie’s in record time, Karen offered to buy the first round while the guys grabbed a table. 

Foggy inhaled deeply. “Smell that, Murdock?” 

“Stale beer and vomit?” 

“No! The smell of our impending success!” 

“It doesn’t trouble you that your brain associates our success with vomit?” 

“Gah! You’re impossible!” Foggy threw his hands up as Matt smirked. 

“What did he do now?” Foggy cheered as he saw you approaching them. 

“You’ve gotta help me out. Your boyfriend is refusing to admit that we are going to win our case this week.” Foggy mock glared at Matt. 

You sat down next to Matt, laughing brightly as he began to argue. “I never said that! I said, it’s weird that you link our winning a case with such an unpleasant sensation.” 

“Oh god, we just got here and they’re already going at it.” Karen murmured to you as she returned with drinks, chuckling with fond exasperation. She handed you a beer and you accepted gratefully as you slid under the arm Matt moved around your shoulders. As you nestled into his side, he and Foggy continued to bicker about what winning should smell like. 

Eventually, Karen broke in and offered them their beers. Mostly for a moment of quiet, you assumed. Taking a drink, Matt turned to you. “How was your day, angel?” Karen and Foggy looked at each other, ‘Angel??’

“It was awesome, actually! My boss approved my proposal!” You sounded thrilled. 

“That’s fantastic!” Matt was beaming at you. “Did you get to show her the mock ups?” 

“I’m sorry,” Foggy cut in with a smile. “What proposal?” 

“Shit, I forgot I hadn’t told you and Karen! I’m sorry guys.” You grimaced sheepishly. “I had been noticing some recurring names when I sat in court this month so I did some digging and found 4 property managers that have dozens of documented issues. I’m talking constructive eviction, unhabitable units, actions in contempt, a whole mess of stuff. So I wanted to ask my boss if we could set up some clinics in the area for hearing counterclaim filing and to help people file a case against their landlord preemptively.” 

Matt’s focus was entirely on you as you spoke animatedly, absolutely ecstatic about your new project. 

“I had a solid framework but I was having a really hard time working up the nerve to ask her if I could do anything. Thankfully, Matt had some great ideas and helped me put together a whole presentation at dinner last week!” You grinned, looking up at him. 

“What dinner last week?” Karen inquired, her eyes flirting between the two of you as she barely concealed her knowing grin. 

“Oh!” You shifted in your seat slightly. “Well, we’ve been having dinner once or twice a week to—um—“

“Get to know each other!” Matt suggested, helpfully. 

“Exactly! In case we have another event and have to speak to people about each other, or whatever.”

“Right,” Foggy confirmed, eyebrows raised. “Well, I’m glad that it went well! And, that you’ve been getting this workaholic out of the office. I was wondering why he’s been so chipper lately.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that has more to do with this ‘impending success’ I keep hearing about.” You bit your lip, fidgeting with the half empty glass in your hand. 

“It’s not all work-related, sweetness.” Matt nudged you, grinning. 

You smiled into your beer, draining the rest of it. “Sure, Murdock. Though, I’m afraid you’ll have to try harder to sweet talk me into buying you another drink.” 

“Hmm, guess I’ll keep trying.” Matt followed you out of the booth, taking your arm as you both walked up to ask Josie for a refill. 

Karen gaped at Foggy. “You weren’t kidding!”

“I know!” Foggy said, throwing his arms towards the bar after their friends. “They don’t see it!”

Karen snorted. “We are in for a world of hurt.” 

After the group had chatted for a bit, Foggy suggested that you and Matt play him and Karen in pool, to “settle the smell of success debate once and for all”. Everyone seemed excited about the proposition, but you hesitated. 

“I’ve never actually played pool before.” You admitted to Matt, quietly, as Karen and Foggy got the table set up. 

“That’s alright, pretty girl. I’ll just have to teach you.” He flicked your chin softly before raising his voice. “I promise it’s not that difficult to beat Foggy. I could do it with my eyes closed.” He jested, making you laugh. 

“How dare you insult my honor in front of this fair maiden!” Foggy crowed, feigning chest pain. “I’m hurt, truly hurt!” 

You giggled at their antics, sliding out from the booth and pulling Matt with you. “Better teach me fast, Matty. I have a feeling Nelson won’t be taking it easy on me.” 

While Foggy and Karen were having a good time battling you two in pool, it was becoming almost irritating to watch the two of you flirt and exchange soft touches without acknowledging the authenticity of your relationship. Matt kept holding your waist to help you position the pool cue, giving you a kiss on the cheek when any of the balls landed in a pocket. And, as the two of you became more tipsy throughout the evening, you started sitting atop of Matt’s lap, playing with his hair and resting your nose against his cheek, while waiting for Foggy or Karen to finish a turn. 

It was adorable, sure, but aggravating nonetheless because anytime someone questioned it, you and Matt brushed it off as ‘keeping up appearances’. 

As you lined up your cue to take the final shot, Matt announced your intentions for you. “8 ball, far right corner pocket.” Giving the cue ball a firm tap, the 8 ball sailed into its intended receptacle. 

You and Matt cheered as Foggy and Karen yelled in frustration. As you gave him a hug, Matt twirled you around. 

“Great job, angel. I’m so proud of you!” He pressed a kiss to your hairline. You leaned into him, treasuring the moment. 

Foggy and Karen just shared a look, shaking their heads, before Foggy asked “Anyone up for a rematch?” 

Foggy, Karen, and Matt were tiredly running over their case notes for the upcoming Jones trial. Their last few cases had all gone well, but this case was incredibly taxing. They were having a hard time getting their two key witnesses to cooperate, and the judge had denied their request for a continuance which squished the timeline in a less than optimal direction. 

Sighing, Foggy rubbed at his eyes. “Is there anyway we could get the sister on the stand? She was so much easier to work with.” 

“There’s no way we’d be able to prepare her in time.” Matt grumped, tension headache steadily brewing. 

Karen closed her laptop with a frustrated sigh. “Alright gentlemen, I don’t know about you but I will be absolutely useless if I keep working at this without food. Dinner?”

“Yah let’s go grab a pizza and give our poor minds a break.” Foggy rubbed Matt’s shoulder, hoping the idea of food would be enough to tempt him away from his computer. 

“You two go ahead, I’ll see if I can find a weakness in the opposing argument here.” 

“Matt, c’mon—“ Foggy pleaded. 

“It’s fine. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, I can feel it…” Matt turned back to his computer, putting headphones in his ears before hearing his friends’ responses. 

Foggy simply gave Karen an exaggerated eye roll before the two headed out to grab dinner. 

The pizza place wasn’t too far from their office, so they fully expected Matt to be honed in on his case notes when they returned, but instead he was leaning against the table in the conference room. His phone held against his ear, Matt had a small grin on his face as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. It must have been you. No one else could break Matt’s intense focus so easily. 

Foggy and Karen were as quiet as possible as they brought the food into the conference room. Matt’s grin fell a bit as they entered. 

“Ok sweetness, Nelson and Page are back with food so I have to go. Call me when you get home safe tonight…yah I know you will. Love you.” Matt ended the call, placing his phone on the table.

“I found a clerical error in the original filing of the case. Should help us at least weaken the validity of the prosecution's claims.”  It was dead silent for a moment before Matt prompted “Are we going to eat or have we taken those pizzas hostage?” 

Foggy pried his jaw from the floor, looking to Karen who appeared equally shocked. “No, uh, we can eat. Yah, let’s eat.” Foggy set the boxes down as Karen rummaged around for some plates. She gave him a pointed look, her eyes swiveling between him and Matt. 

Internally debating whether to ask Matt about the terminology used at the end of his phone call, Foggy opened his mouth but Matt held up a hand. “Before you even start, she was out with friends at a bar. We both agreed to act like a couple when in public and she explicitly told me she was ok with it.” The blind man turned to his work with a barely noticeable glower, clearly exasperated by his friends’ questioning. 

“See, buddy, that’s cool and all, but you do see how this looks right?” Foggy nervously took a bite of pizza, eyeing the other man. 

“What, like I’m forcing her to say things she’s uncomfortable with? That I’m holding her back from finding someone she actually wants to be with? Yes, Foggy, I’m aware.” Matt’s scowl deepened. “I beat myself up about it constantly. I really don’t need you both breathing down my neck about it too.” 

“Wait, Matt, you think that’s what we’ve been talking about?” Karen prompted, clearly as taken aback as Foggy felt. She placed a hand on Matt’s arm in a gesture of comfort. “We’re not worried that you’re making her uncomfortable.” 

“And we certainly aren’t worried that you’re holding her back!” Foggy added. “Why on earth would you think we were worried about that?”

“Clearly you are! That morning after the gala when you rushed out after seeing she was still there, you were biting your tongue the whole time, Fog!” Matt ran his hands through his hair in distress. “It’s like everytime one of you sees us together, you’re always pointing out the illegitimacy of our relationship or calling us a name. Not to mention, the night at Josie’s where you and Karen were frustratedly saying I was causing a ‘world of hurt’?” Fully pacing now, Foggy had to stand to stop the other man from wearing a tread in their carpet. 

“Matt, that’s not what we’ve been trying to say.” Foggy broke in, slowly. 

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched. “Really, because everytime she gets nervous around me, we suddenly end up alone. If you couldn’t bear to watch what I was doing, you at least could’ve told me that you thought I was hurting her if it was so hard to watch.” He turned away, biting his bottom lip in irritation. 

“What we meant when we said those things,” Karen jumped in, also coming to stand in front of Matt. “Was that it seems like the two of you aren’t fake dating anymore. It seems like you’re actually dating and you don’t realize it. And, you aren’t making her uncomfortable, Matt. She adores you.” 

Matt’s nostrils flared as conflicting emotions danced across his face. “Matt, buddy, all this time you’ve been chastising yourself for holding her back? Have you stopped to consider that she might enjoy being with you?” Foggy reached out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, but the other man pulled out of his grasp, pacing again. 

“Enjoy being with me? That’s fucking rich.” He bit out. “She’s so smart and funny and thoughtful and—“ his voice was breaking now. “All I’ve done since I brought her into this was get her hurt. She’s way too good to be stuck with me.” 

Snatching his red glasses, cane, and computer, Matt huffed before throwing a few sheets of paper down on the table. “Here’s the court's error for the Jones case. I need some air. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Matt stomped out the door, Foggy and Karen guiltily watching him go. 

“Ok, we may have done some damage here.” Foggy grimaced. 

“How did we not realize that their own doubts are shaping their interpretation of this?” Karen groaned.

“It’s an embarrassing oversight, I’ll admit.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, Foggy turned to her. “The question is now, do we go after him?” 

“No. He needs to work it out on his own.” Karen stared back at her friend glumly. 

“Ugh. You’re probably right.”

End Notes: A huge thanks to @acewritesfics and @samspenandsword for sharing the beautiful post dividers!

Tag List: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #human disaster matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #marvel's daredevil #mcu daredevil #daredevil fic #charlie cox #foggy nelson #karen page #my writing #mm #wake up

[little-bumblebeeee]

Moonlight - part 4

Word count: 1.3k (almost 1.4)

Part 3, part 2, part 1

"What's wrong with Steve?" Eddie can't help but ask, the question coming out a little quicker than he'd like to admit as worry etches itself across his brow, betraying him completely.

"I don't know, I just.. he's not answering the phone, his car is in the driveway but he's not home, and nobody knows where he is." Nancy tells him, her arms still crossed in front of her chest as she bites the inside of her cheek. Eddie looks outside, it's not a full moon, so where would he be? If he went to the woods, wouldn't he call Eddie for help for their weird agreement? Wouldn't he have told someone?

"Who else did you go to?" Eddie asks. Nancy stops biting the inside of her cheek with a small pop of her lips, shaking her head quickly like a dog. "Just- it doesn't matter. I'm just worried about him." Nancy says, stepping into the trailer and looking around, wrinkling her nose at the smell of cigarettes and Eddie's weed.

"It kinda does matter though, if you wanna know where he is. What if he's just hanging out with a friend or something?" Eddie says, going to his laundry basket to grab an old shirt that hasn't been washed in... he doesn't actually know, it's not a shirt he wears often. He gives it the quick sniff test to make sure it doesn't at least stink before tugging it on over his mass of wild curls that he's pretty sure has crumbs in it from laying on the couch he also eats Chips Ahoy cookies on.

"He's not, he basically only has Tommy and Carol and they're out on a date." Nancy replies, following him down the hall. Eddie refrains from asking if Steve is also on that date, even if it's a real question he has. Sure, he's worried, but it's Steve. And he says that.

"Look, Steve isn't some damsel in distress, he'll be fine wherever he is. I know you're worried, but he's Steve." He tells Nancy, and she lets a breath out from her nose, looking off to the side. He's never been great at reading expressions, but it's clear she's pretty damn annoyed.

"I'm not cheating on him." She says, clenching her jaw. She huffs when Eddie doesn't bother to hide his confusion, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "It's stupid, but he saw me with Jonathan and now he's basically throwing a fit over nothing." He's heard that word to describe Steve a lot. But this time it's his actions, and not his brains. Sure, compared to himself, Eddie doesn't think Steve is stupid, but that's his own self deprecating brain speaking. In his eyes, Steve is perfect. Too perfect. Rich, popular, a jock, attractive. And Eddie is what? A freak. A stupid, unwashed, freak.

Eddie just walks over to the small cramped kitchen to stir the pot of Spaghetti-O's, not wanting to bother with this anymore. "Steve is gonna be fine." Is all he says, and not even he knows why he's saying it.

After a few more moments of silence, where Eddie is hoping Nancy will just leave him the hell alone so he can eat his Spaghetti-O's in peace without talk of Steve, because lately everything has revolved around that idiot. That stupidly perfect, rich, popular, idiot. But then she speaks again.

"I know you've been talking to him." Nancy says, taking a step forward. "Has he said anything weird?" She asks. Anything other than the fact that he's a werewolf? Anything other than the fact that his parents are horrible? No, not really. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose, a habit he picked up early from his uncle, and a clear sign he wants Nancy to leave him be so he can be alone. When he doesn't answer, she nods, looking around once more before she finally leaves.

And yet Eddie can't stop thinking about Steve. Is something wrong? Should he call? Should he check? No, he shouldn't.

But he realizes he's already out the door, shoes on his feet and keys in hand. He finds Steve with Tommy and Carol at the movies– despite what Nancy said about the two being on a date. Tommy is holding onto the bottom of a ladder as Steve climbs, Carol having spray paint at the ready.

"Steve? The hell are you doing?" Eddie calls out, the sound of his own voice echoing against the brick, making Steve look over his shoulder.

"Nothing." Steve says firmly, shaking the can of spray paint. Jesus, if Eddie was caught doing something like this he'd be in the back of Hopper's car, and Steve? He'd probably get a slap on the wrist. "Looks like something you'll regret."

"Go home, freak, nobody wants you here." Tommy says without a glance towards Eddie, eyes still on Steve as if he worships the dude. Eddie steps closer anyways, not caring if he'll get beaten or not, he's gotta stop Steve from doing whatever the hell he's about to do, whether he goes home with another vague thanks or a black eye. He doesn't know why he cares– he doesn't want to care, doesn't need to care. But there's a nagging feeling in his chest, right in that spot between his ribs that feels like there's a hook there, pulling him towards the situation. He should go. Nobody does want him here, he should go.

He should go.

But he doesn't, stepping forward only still, crunching the leaves that scatter the sidewalk as he approaches Steve and his two Igors, who finally turn to look at him, about to speak and spew their filth. He feels the need to step back, as if their words really will stain his already dirty white reeboks with green and brown sludge.

"Get down from there, whatever you wanna share with the town probably isn't worth it." Eddie tells Steve, looking up now, pushing past Tommy and Carol who he can feel glaring at his back, their eyes practically burning holes through his pajama shirt and skin. Steve just.. looks at him. Up and down. Then he tosses the spray paint can down, a loud sigh escaping his lips.

"Nancy–" He starts, going down a step, but Eddie raises his eyebrows.

"I talked to her. Nothing happened, and you just disappearing like that had her worried enough to show up to the trailer park." Eddie says, not looking fondly on the memory from 10 minutes before because if she hadn't come over then he'd be lounging on the couch in his Garfield pants with his beloved pot of Spaghetti-O's... he's still wearing his Garfield pants. Dang it.

"She showed up to your place?" Steve asks finally stepping down and turning to face Eddie, running a hand over his face and pinching his nose, his eyes having a sheen over them Eddie has never seen before.

"Yeah. She was worried– looked annoyed though. You might wanna go apologize, you two are good together." Eddie says before even taking another breath, needing Steve to be distracted and be around him less and less until he can be gone from his life for good. He tries to think of something else, anything else. The fact he left the stove on, the fact he's wearing Garfield pants, the fact he probably left the door wide open. Why was he in such a hurry to find Steve? Steve, of all people on this earth, had Eddie leaving the stove on and the door open. And Eddie doesn't even know why.

Because he refuses to like Steve. Refuses to feel anything but hate for the boy with honey eyes and golden skin.

"I shouldn't be here." Steve says, looking back to Tommy and Carol as if just now realizing the fact. "Ya think?" Eddie can't help but say.

"C'mon, Tweedledee and Tweedledum can do this on their own." He adds, nodding over his shoulder. He shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be still talking to Steve or motioning for him to follow. Shouldn't be letting him follow. Shouldn't be doing any of this.

But he also feels he shouldn't be a lot of things, and he is anyway. He is with pride, without disgust or guilt. So why can't he just love this boy for a day?

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

tag list: @manda-panda-monium @anaibis @irregular-child @gregre369 @cartercaptainofthemoon @oatmilk-vampire @she-collects-smut

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington #joseph quinn #eddie munson #joe quinn #steddie #Moonlight steddie fic #I like this chapter :) #I'm getting better at making my fics longer #I wanted to make this one longer but I'm sick n I need sleep

[rickyschicky]

🌌Void🌌

A Ricky x Fem!Reader (Angst/Fluff)

Summary: You have been having an extremely hard time for a few weeks, but today was just the one day that topped them all... So Ricky had to step in before he lost you to yourself.

Warnings/Mentions: Depression, Drug usage (prescribed medications), self-deprecation, LOTS OF CRYING, Pet names (Squirt, Honey, Sweetie, Maomao, and Darling), very small amount of violence? 

Hello everyone! I finally have completed my very first ZB1 fanfic and have truly become an official writer of Zumblr! This work has a lot of my emotions or feelings into it and was very self-indulgent when thought of. As many of my previous followers may have noticed, I’ve changed my user to “rickyschicky.” Yes, I’m going to mainly be writing about ZB1 from now on, but no I’ll still write for other groups/idols. But they most likely will be my ult biases or Idols that have a special place in my heart. This fic is coming out a lot later than I originally wanted it to due to a lot of personal things happening in my life. Now that this is released, I’ll be working on a proper pin that has a proper about me, rules for the blog, rules for asks and even an anon list for those who wish to SECRETLY stick around! Im very excited to have my fresh start, so perceive me well, pretty please! Feedback is always appreciated, and if you see mistakes don’t be afraid to send me a DM!

Cup. Pop. Gulp.

     This routine was normal for you, a dreaded ritual if anything. If you didn’t do this every morning and night, you know your life would be in shambles and unlivable. Curling into your favorite (F/C) blanket, you let out a sigh of emptiness as your feet mindlessly kick around in it. 

Managing depression, sucks.

     Mindlessly watching whatever was playing on the tv, the heart inside of your chest sunk deeper and deeper. Yet anything you put on couldn’t entertain you, not even rewatching your favorite shows. You can’t decide what’s worse; not remembering how many days it’s been since this started, not eating or hydrating enough, or the fact that you have shut all your friends out with your boyfriend being the very next one. You hear your best friend’s custom ringtone blare though your phone speakers at least twice a day, but you couldn’t help but sigh and say, “not today, (F/N)”. Everything from blaring sounds to the soft fabric currently on your fingertips felt like it was hardly there. Your body feels like over-used putty, numb and worn out from so much usage. It’s impossible though, it has felt like you haven’t moved from this spot in months. Who knows the actual time you even were here on the couch of you and your lover’s shared house.

     It’s pitiful how you couldn’t even jump from surprise when Ricky touches your head softly, “I’m home, squirt. I’m sorry I was out late, I wanted to finish getting a certain verse right.’ Only humming in response, you sit up and turn the tv down in an attempt to listen to him. By all means it wasn’t because you weren’t interested, it's far from that. It’s just hard to control your fuzzy mind and have it focus on something emotional at this moment in time. He didn’t like the lack-of response he received, gracefully walking over and sitting next to your cocooned form.

     “(Y/N), honey. Please look at me.” You tear your gaze from the random spot you decided to zone out on and look into his gentle, cat shaped eyes. They were full of concern and distress. You almost hated how he could easily read you like an open book just by the way you act or look. 

     “Sweetie don’t start crying, I am far from mad at you. I just want you to talk to me, tell me what you feel.” Ricky takes no time in using his large thumb to brush away the tears that unknowingly fell from your lash line. He lets his long arms wrap around your figure, pulling you into his comforting lap. 

     The first thought you could even think of through the numerous tears was ‘why am I like this?’. Feeling disgusted with yourself, you choke out a sob harder and limply lay your head on his shoulder. You take your medicine day and night as prescribed, so why are you still feeling like a hollow doll that’s incapable of nothing? Even in the love of your life’s arms, you couldn’t feel an ounce of happiness.

     Ricky sensed this, pulling your chin up and bringing you into a sweet and gentle kiss as he whispers soft praises of how strong you are. “Hey hey hey, don’t work yourself up too much (Y/N). We both know we will feel like shit, and I’ll call Hanbin to let him know I can’t come in to practice because you are just sooo sad.” He gives a cute pout, tickling your sides in mockery. Through your tears, you let out a huff that quickly turns into a squeal. You quickly throw your fists up and start lightly punching him in his wide shoulders and chest in an attempt to get his fingers away from your sensitive sides.

     “The last thing I need is for you yelled at by mother, Shen Ricky.” You scold, feeling a breath of life flow through your veins. It was hard to be upset when he acts silly or in this case: say something utterly stupid and cute. He chuckles, noticing how you were starting to change right before his eyes. He knew he had to continue before you slip back. 

     “Well, I can always bring you to practice?” 

     “Ricky, WakeOne literally won’t let me, even if you beg.”

     You sit in silence before just snorting at his antics. You shimmy out of the blanket and take care to put it around you and him, straddling his lap so you can lay your head on his collarbone right under his chin. Soon your body melts as you go limp once more. Ricky quickly accepted this new position by wrapping his arms around your lower back snugly, giving many annoying kisses to your temples and forehead. He felt you changing again and wanted to halt the process. Deciding this was too annoying right now, you attempt to pull the blanket above your head. Not liking this, your boyfriend quickly grabs the blanket with his teeth and starts tugging on it playfully, tickling your sides ferociously.  

     “What are you, a dog?” 

     “Actually, I’m a cat.”

     You don’t waste a second to jab your hand in his side, hearing him whimper for you to let up and be gentle. He sighs, giving up and letting you hide under the soft fabric, rocking your curled up form that was on his lap. After being together for a while, he knew your limits and when to stop. You just wanted someone to physically be there for you today, so that’s what he will do. Slowly moving the blanket off the top of your head, he gently clears his throat to sing for you in his mother tongue. You voiced to him before you loved hearing him sing so comfortably in his first language and even encouraged him to teach you a few songs in Chinese. 

     Not soon after you were about to pull the blanket over your head, you heard his deep, breathy voice fill your ears. Stopping your current action, you tuck your hair behind your ears so you could hear him clearly (even if you couldn’t understand a single thing coming from his lips), and let your head lay heavy on his shoulder. Sure, Ricky could be a total annoying brat when he wanted to be, but times like this are when you are the most thankful for him. You felt at one of your lowest points and instead of running or simply saying, ‘suck it up’, he stuck around and tried to learn how to take care of you and cheer you up. He took his time learning your needs, favorite activities and foods, and even points of his personality you enjoyed the most. You were his rose, freshly bloomed and bright red with an addicting scent. His romance, the one that made his heart fall in his stomach and bounce of his rib cage with a simple stare and gentle laugh. If he could, you would be carried everywhere in his pocket wherever he traveled. Ricky truly loved you, just for who you are.

     Not a second after he finished the song, you were wiping tears. You didn’t know what tears they really were at this point. You felt numb, but you at least felt something now compared to earlier. Sitting up carefully, you rub your raw puffy eyes to attempt to see him. Blinking rapidly, you saw he had a gentle smile on, your second favorite smile. Nothing could beat his largest, brightest smile he gives when he is bursting with happiness. Leaning over, you connect your sore lips with his thick, plush ones. Ricky’s chest rumbled smoothly under your hands that were propping you up, humming with the small show of affection. 

     “That’s my girl, so pretty even when she is the saddest soul on the planet.” He coos, large hands once again cupping your jaw tenderly. His eyes were sparkling, looking like the softest pieces of boba you have laid your own eyes on. Everything that exuded him at this moment spoke of love and truth. You lay your smaller hands ontop of his, enjoying the warmth of them. 

     “Maomao, let’s go to bed...I’m just really tired after today.” You confess, guilt laced in your voice. His thumb brushed your lip to hush you, smiling sweetly. 

     “There is nothing wrong with that, my darling. Let’s get some good rest and wake up to a new day. Together.” Your boyfriend promises, gently moving his hands to securely hold your thighs as he stands up and starts walking to your shared bedroom. He lays you down like royalty on the bed, swinging you in properly and tucks you in. By the time you were able to focus your eyes, he vanished from the room. 

     After a few minutes, you hear a familiar rattle come down the hallway as he slips in the room once again. He kneels by the bed a water in hand, and a yellow tinted bottle with a white cap on top. Sleepily, you grab the bottle and twist it open, smiling when you see the water bottle already opened and offered towards you.

Cup. Pop. Gulp.

         Managing depression, sucks.

                               But Ricky makes it suck a lot less. 

#chick writes #zb1 #zerobaseone #tw drugs #dw they are prescribed drugs #tw depression #ricky #shen ricky #ricky shen #ricky fluff #ricky angst #zb1 ricky #ricky zb1 #lots of crying #emotions #fluff ending #ricky x reader #zb1 x reader #pet names #some jokes #my heart #lots of hurt #zumblrnet #zumblr net

[knifedog-machina]

What’s In A Name?

Musings on our names and our relationships with them, particularly around transitioning, OC fictive experiences, established character fictive experiences, and our reluctance to create a system name.

Max

So I'm transgender, and I decided to change my name, as is a common choice among trans folks! I went through several different names before settling on the ones I have for myself now - Kitson, Gray, Finch, for a few examples. I was nonbinary in my teenage years, genderfluid before my gender settled into masculinity as its new home, and I wanted a name that was kinda difficult to nail down as masculine or feminine. I played around with it for a long time, I got silly with it!

My online name is Max now, derived only a little bit from misspelling mackerelgray as maxkerelgray one time! I think it’s a name that ages well, and I really like the potential longform nicknames for it - because I like saying it's short for Maximilian, but it can also be Maximus, Maxime, Maxwell, Maxfield, Maximum, Maxilla, etc. It’s fun! The possibilities are endless!

And on February 29 (wow! a Leap Year!) I got a new addition to it! I was attending the 2024 Centaurus Festival, a three-day online convention centered around mythic and folkloric alterhumans, and it was an absolute blast, especially because of the name thing! 

I was jokingly lamenting that I’d chosen a really boring name to represent myself, when surrounded by the likes of Page or Cynder or Daski, because it does look like I just chose one of the Top Ten Dog Names despite not being a dog. Everyone around me got a whiff of self-deprecation and immediately went about tearing it down, joking about how they came up with their own handles and complimenting mine, and it was honestly really nice? Like I’m not the only one who made up my name in a silly way, or feels like their name is a little underwhelming, and it felt really nice to break up the impression of Big Intimidating Community Names™ with the understanding that we’re all just weird and vibing together!

And Benry said, hey, if it were actually a top ten dog name you’d be a Fido or a Biscuit, and I said, hey, I like biscuits! I’d be a great Biscuit! And in ten minutes I’m being dubbed Max Biscuit in the general chat and giving people virtual baked goods, and honestly, it was so fun and sweet that I’m immortalizing it by putting it on my handle now. Hi fellow alterhumans, I’m Max Biscuit, I was Assigned Baked Goods at the Centaurus Festival and it was absolutely delightful.

Jude

First off, my name is technically short for Judah, and I don’t actually use that name here, for a couple reasons.

Mostly, it’s because Judah is a work name. My handler only used my full name - she wouldn’t shorten it, that’s improper, that’s not my actual designation. It’s a name that I associate with my job, with doing something for people who don’t actually care about me, and it’s not something I use with people I’m trying to get along with. My friends and siblings and partners all call me Jude in friendly contexts, but I’m Judah if it’s for something official, and that’s a signal for me to stop fucking around and do what I need to. I’ll use it as a burner name while talking to strangers, to people I don’t care about. Now that I’m in a system, I only directly talk to people who I care about getting along with, so I just cut out the middleman and introduce myself as Jude.

(There’s also definitely the fact that people see Judah and think I’m a guy, and I hate being misgendered. Jude has a more neutral association that I like better.)

That’s what I have for my first name, but I have more thoughts! About other names I have and their funny little origins, related to being an original character fictive.

See, if you’re talking about my model and serial number, I’m called RK800 476 032 660. In beta testing, before being officially given a name, I used to be called Sixty from the last couple digits. Which is really funny to me, because that’s the usual fandom nickname for the Cyberlife Tower doppelganger in Detroit: Become Human, and that was where Max got the original inspiration for my character! Listen, the moralizing machine characterization compelled them. 

Max just ran with the pieces, glued them together, and wrote that guy into weirder and more canon-divergent AUs until they realized they had fully replaced every part of that man’s characterization and I was the result. They just went full Ship Of Theseus with him. So my name got changed because I was a completely different person, and I don’t identify with that name anymore, but I’m pretty fond of it. And I like Sixty in DBH fandom and fics when I see him, he’s kinda fucked up and feral and feels a lot of things and I can relate to that. He’s just a funny little bastard.

And before I walked in, Max wrote a bunch of different alternate universes with me - and honestly I adore it, I love being known and psychoanalyzed by my loved ones because I like to know what they’re thinking about me. Most of those AUs have different settings and premises - like we’re all werewolves, or selkies, or chefs, or in the Star Wars universe or something. And this usually meant that my name is different, because I need a full name, I can’t just be called Jude. So he settled on Judah Nicholas Rooke, Rooke from RK and Nicholas because it has a good ring to it, and I also have it as a legal name in my timeline.

It’s funny to think about my name in terms of the meta of being a fictive of an original character, because on one hand, Max went through various iterations of a character that would eventually become what I’d recognize as me, including name changes, and that’s really interesting! And on the other hand, I definitely remember talking about what to officially last-name ourselves with my brothers when we finally got the time, because I felt kinda weird about identifying myself by a model number, or worse, a serial number that people never remembered. Watsonian versus Doylist commentary on what went into making me a person, I guess! They’re both real enough, one of them just happened in my life and the other happened in Max’s brain.

Gavin

My name is Gavin Zachary Reed, and I still think it’s really funny that I can just announce that without getting doxxed. Like I don’t think anyone should follow my example, but it’s fucking comedy gold that I can do it. I’m not even revealing my identity to anyone who’s familiar with the video game my source was based on, because my source is so canon divergent that the character who shares my name is fully unrecognizable to me.

If you recognize the first and last name there, yep, I’m technically an iteration of Gavin Reed from Detroit: Become Human. Unfortunately, I’m nothing like him - I look nothing like his character model, his voice is different, his only personality trait is being a dick, and he’s not even 5’2” - and I hate his stupid fucking ass, including the video game he’s from and most things related to its fandom that we’ve interacted with. This kinda sucks, because I’m not going to change my name again just because it’s associated with a character and game and fandom I dislike. I like my name, thanks.

Here’s a brief rundown on how I got my name. Gavin - I’m trans, I chose this name myself. My middle name, Zachary, I also came up with that, because it worked way better with Gavin than my old middle name, and I go by Zach in spaces where I don’t want to use my first name. And Reed is my aunts’ last name, because I moved in with them as a teenager, and I did not want anybody knowing I had ties to my famous older brother or dragging me back to my shit parents. I legally changed it all at once. My aunts were my guardians until I got my own place, and really, they’re way more like parents to me than the people who fucked over my childhood.

So I’m really attached to my name. It carries a lot of meaning for me. I’m annoyed that it’s connected to a character I hate, but I can’t exactly control that, so there’s not really a point in getting tetchy about it. I’ll readily bitch about it in private, but I genuinely like who I am and I’m not about to abandon that by letting a game dictate what I call myself.

System Names

We still don’t have a system name and don’t really care to officially make one, for a couple reasons.

First, there’s only three people here, and we have our individual names already. Addressing us by a collective system name feels like it means losing some of that individuality, because people use the system name because they don’t want to assume who’s fronting or anything, and while that’s understandable, it’s not something any of us really likes. Like, we’re very much separate people! If you wanna talk to one of us, just say it, we’ll probably show up!

On the other hand, I do understand wanting an identifier - like, there’s loads of Maxes and Judes and Gavins out there, we have really common names, there’s gotta be something to distinguish us from another group, right? Like a last name.

Honestly, looking at it like a last name makes it feel better. If you’ve read through the rest of this, you can tell we’re already experts at getting new last names, and this is just another one! So on that note, we’re not gonna call ourselves anything like The X System, but if you have to tag us as a collective, just use Machina as a funny end tag, like how people talk about Sans Undertale.

(Max Machina is a misnomer, since he’s not from Machina, but he came up with the title so he counts. And it’s really fucking funny.)

#personal essay #alterhuman #plurality #fictive #max talks #jude talks #gavin talks

[radioactive-reactions]

FNV companions meet their Fo4 counterparts. What happens? (More specifically, What happens when Arcade finds out he’s replaced by a Ms. Nanny/Synth)

Hmm... I like it! I'm certainly no stranger to cross-game interactions, but 'F4 counterparts' is kind of subjective, given that 4 has vastly more companions. I hope my picks match up with yours!

Raul distrusts Hancock from the moment he's brazenly offered some Jet. From the get-go, Hancock is subjected to the most intense passive-aggressive abuelo act Raul is capable of- "Oh, sure, shoot up right in front of me. Not like you can mess up your brain any worse than the radiation did, hey, boss?" Hancock's anarchistic outlook, regardless of how well the self-appointed mayor-for-life actually adheres to it, makes Raul more than a little uncomfortable- but under all the sarcasm lies a wealth of genuine advice, if Hancock actually cares to look for it.

Boone is, of course, endlessly annoyed by MacCready at first. Snipers though they both may be, Boone is First Recon, NCR's finest- and MacCready is a penniless mercenary from a cave. MacCready sticks a little too close for comfort, always looking over Boone's shoulder, trying to pick up tricks of the trade... and always being stonewalled by Boone's well-practiced stoicism. It's only when MacCready lets the story of his wife and son slip that Boone begins to soften, grumbling less often at his presence and even giving him a few pointers... not that he ever says a word about the sudden change.

Veronica is leery, seeing Paladin Danse as a walking, talking, power-armored icon of precisely the kind of Brotherhood authoritarianism she's been chafing under her entire life. His hardline attitude towards synths, ghouls and mutants certainly doesn't help matters either, and if anything only fuels her distrust in the system. Still, it's not all bad- she manages to wring endless hours of fun out of the fact that he refuses to ever take his power armor off, much to his chagrin. Were she actually a member of his chapter, he'd go straight to Elder Maxson for disciplinary action... but as it is, he's forced to grin and bear it.

Cass and Cait manage to tear through the Dugout Inn's hard liquor supply between the two of them before even learning each others' names. It takes a drunken brawl, a hazy night spent ducking the city guards, and a bleary awakening in the same bed, but they're soon inseparable drinking buddies. Of course, Cait being utterly enthralled by Cass' many (slightly exaggerated) stories of hardscrabble caravan life in the Wastes doesn't hurt at all. Cass, on the other hand, gets to occasionally squeeze Cait's biceps, which is really all one can ask for.

Arcade and Curie are, unsurprisingly, fast friends. He doesn't feel 'replaced', per se, but her centuries of research experience compared to his thirty-something at times makes him feel like he's back in elementary school. Even so, he recognizes the immense value her wealth of knowledge represents, and the two find themselves chatting into the small hours time and time again. For her part, Curie is quick to realize that Arcade needs a friend who actually listens to him- not to mention a bit of optimism to break up all that self-deprecation. She's not really programmed for cheering up wayward Enclave doctors, but maybe she can give it a try all the same.

Lily finds Strong to be an "AGREEABLE YOUNG MAN" who perhaps reminds her a bit too much of Leo when he really gets going. Strong is thrown by her demeanor at first, reasoning that super mutants don't really have families... but who could turn down an offer of free cookies? It doesn't take long for him to warm up considerably, finding her a welcome change from the brutality of his Commonwealth 'brothers'. At the end of the day, Lily's just happy to have yet another grandkid- "AND SO TALL, TOO! THE LADIES WILL JUST EAT YOU UP, PUMPKIN."

Rex and Dogmeat spend much of the initial meeting sniffing at each other, each entirely unsure what to make of the other. Dogs are dogs, however, and before long they're wrestling over a stray teddy bear- Rex has the advantage, not that anyone from the Commonwealth would ever admit it.

ED-E and Codsworth have an instant, mutual animosity- Codsworth because ED-E is a creation of the wretched band of mustachioed charlatans at RobCo, and ED-E because Codsworth is a great deal too prim and proper for its liking. The two spend the bulk of their initial meeting exchanging rude stares from their respective photoreceptors, followed by ED-E wooshing away to go hang out with ADA instead. Some robot friendships just aren't meant to be...

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fnv #fo4 #fo4 companions #fnv companions #raul tejada #craig boone #veronica santangelo #rose of sharon cassidy #arcade gannon #lily bowen #fnv rex #ed e #reactions #fo4 hancock #rj maccready #paladin danse #fo4 cait #fo4 curie #fo4 strong #dogmeat #codsworth #most tags i've ever had on a post #that's what two sets of companions will do ig

[ganondoodle]

i barely got any sleep and cried twice already, call it silly if you want, but yes its bc of the whole twitter thing, its crashing an burning and its doing it fast, trying to make people go to other websites im on has proven incredibly hard

its taken a huge toll on my mental health already, since i relied on twitter for alot of social interactions .. and it was the only website i ever gained a following that gave me a reach i never had before, not to discredit tumblr, i have been here twice as long as on twitter and love it dearly, but despite that have less than half of the followers, most inactive too, and the only posts that ever took off here where unfunny memes or self deprecating joke memes i now hate making altogether

i only really realized just how much it helped me with my chronic depression and isolation now that im about to lose it; the few friends i have now i found through twitter, despite twitter being rly unsuitable for comics, destiny has done much better there than here ..

i doubt i will ever get to the point i got over there anywehere ever again, i feel horribly powerless just watching a disgustingly rich manbaby run it all into the ground within such a short time

art is all i have, twitter was surprisingly the website i got the most recognition for it, felt like i reached people who cared about the same things i care about, ppl call it a hellsite just as much as ppl call tumblr a hellsite, but to be honest i have had very few bad interactions, most of which where more funny to me that hurtful

the fact that i can lose something so important to me so suddendly without being able to do jackshit about it is yet another thing to be horribly afraid of, as if i needed more things to be afraid of ...

#ganondoodles talks #i know its not gone yet #if you remove the pilots from a plane it wont crash and burn immediately #itll keep flying fo a bit but will inevitably hit the ground #no i have no hope of it being able to correct course in time #not with lil muskboi at the wheel #been going throguh some of my fav artist accounts to try and see if they posted about where else to find them but most dont #i guess i will just have to come to terms with the fact i will fall back into complete obscurity when it all goes down #perhaps it doesnt matte that much to others #but art and the people i have reached with it is the only thing that has kept me going #finding a bigger audience on twitter had helped me deal with my depression to a point i rarely had depressive episodes the way i used to #especially after losing my therapist #despite that i was doing much better these last few years than i ever had ever since i was a teen #i just hope i wont get suicidal again .. i was so glad to have grown past that

[maestro-of-clockwork]

Larry stood in front of the apartment door, hating that he was trembling slightly. This was his first time reaching out to a fellow teacher ever since the cancellation of the show, and his nerves were going through a hurricane.

Pulling out his phone, he checked the GPS and hoped he had the right address before he knocked on the door. It was only a few minutes, but those minutes felt like an eternity until Sketchbook opened her door to see him.

"Larry?" she asked softly, as though questioning her own sight.

Larry's heart dropped with concern; her eyes were puffy and red, dark circles underlining her lack of sleep. He knew that state of being all too well...

He mustered a sheepish smile, "Yeah...I'm really sorry for not communicating with you guys for so long. I-"

The young man was cut off by his best friend capturing him in a tight hug.

"I don't care," Sketchbook's voice cracked with held-back tears, "you're here now. That's all that matters to me..."

Larry hugged her back, "...I missed you too, Sketch."

Once they let each other go, she gestured for him to come inside, to which he obliged. He felt awful, watching just how quickly she locked the door.

She really was as bad off as Colin told him...

While he took a seat on the sofa, he fidgeted nervously with his thumbs, trying to think of how to explain himself as Sketchbook sat beside him.

She began first, "So, where have you been all these years...?"

Larry looked off to the side, "I've been living off the grid, trying to stay under...his radar, I guess. I made up a new identity and everything...just hiding."

"I think we've all been doing that in some way," she replied. Larry felt the shame rising; she was so understanding, not angry at all with him like he thought she ought to have been.

"Heh...yeah," he bitterly chuckled, turning back to face her. "Colin managed to bump into me yesterday. He told me you weren't doing so good..."

"I figured I should finally man up and talk to you in person," Larry finished his explanation, self-deprecation lining his last sentence.

"So," he tried to approach the subject delicately, "what's been going on? Is it...him again...?"

Larry's heart softened with sympathy when her expression changed. It was like she was in pain just thinking about it...

"Yes...he's-...he's been visiting me, and..."

Noticing she was choking up, Larry reassured her, "Hey. You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, okay...?"

Black streaked down her cheeks as she shook her head, "No, no, I shouldn't have said anything. He's told me not to tell anyone...!"

"But I-..." She stammered, crying, "I can't keep it in anymore...I just can't..."

Anger bloomed inside of Larry. Antonio wasn't only back to torment them, but hearing he was picking on Sketchbook again set a fire ablaze in him...especially after how much he targeted her during the show.

He found his inner guard dog emerging, "That fucking prick. Didn't he already get his sick kicks by traumatizing us?"

"I thought he had. He's been coming around, doing what he usually does best for a while...but he's been acting so bizarre and strange towards me lately," Sketchbook responded.

"What's he been doing?" asked Larry, preparing himself for the worst.

"He's-...he's been calling me his 'daughter' for the past few months...he's been taking me out on trips, doting on me, always getting too close...he still hurts me, but I hate what he's doing so much more."

"It feels so violating," she sobbed out. "And the worst part is that he means all of it."

No.

On instinct, Larry initially decided that she had to get away from Antonio, but then he considered the fact that he always seemed to know everyone's exact location.

There really was no use fleeing.

What could Larry do to help her, then?

"Sketchbook...I'm sorry I can't do more to get you out of this. Really, no one can run from him, but..." Larry thought, his resolve strengthening, "...I wanna be there for you."

"If you wanna talk to someone, you can always talk to me, Colin or Shrig...you know that, right?"

"Y-yeah..." Sketchbook wiped her eyes, sniffling, "But I'm so scared that he'll hurt you because of it..."

"That's what he wants," Larry stated, voice gentle but firm, "he wants to isolate you, wants to make you feel alone and scared...but you don't have to be. None of us do."

Without thinking, Larry leaned over and gave her a warm hug.

"We're here for you, Sketch," the man added, tearing up himself. "We're here for you and we love you."

She stayed quiet for a moment before hugging him back.

"I love you, too. All of you. I'm so lucky to have friends like you guys..." she gently laughed through her tears.

Larry held her tighter, "I can vouch for them when I say we're lucky to have you, too."

#[[ ooc ]] #from the typewriter. {{ t e x t }} #dhmis #[[ in which a found family is blossoming ]] #tw implied possessive behavior #[[ on antonio's part don't worry ]]

[lunarifie]

Rewatching Ninjago

(With no context other than the episode)

The Tournament of Elements episode 3-4

WHAT IS GOING ON

oh Zane’s having a nightmare.

Why a dragon though, you had one as a pet for like a whole season.

Nya, Wu is NOT the one to go for love advice.

Nya: its just, coles like, i connect with him on a deeper level.

Do you?

Nya: but hes always so serious all the time

No hes not

This was literally his goofiest season

I forgot Misako and Garmadon are still married.

Theyre like, husband and wife.

Thats so weird for some reason

Garmadon: theres a lesson to learn from this son.

Garmadon: If you turn your back on your evil sensei. You will not be served creamy biscuits.

Istg sometimes Wu and Garmadon just say shit and see if the ninja will interpret it in a useful way like an english teacher asking you what the poem means to you

Jay: And i thought ninja didnt steal other ninjas girlfriends!!

WHEN WAS SHE YOUR GIRLFRIEND???????

I love Chens character as a villain. All of this is merely for his entertainment and this whole tournament of manipulation is for his own gain. i love villains who are more manipulative than straight up evil. Thats probably why the overlord didnt stick with me that much.

THE HISTORICAL JAY AND COLE FIGHT

i still remember this from my childhood

Jay: One of us has to lose!!! Oh my god its totally gonna be me. Hes got super strength! And what do I have??!?! QUICK, TELL ME WHAT DO I HAVE?!?!

Insecurities coming in hot there Jay you okay?

Yes it sucks that theyre fighting punching bags with each others faces.

but that doesn’t change the fact that they both have a single headshot photo of one another—

Its startiiiing

Jesus christ theyre immediately at it didnt even let Chen finish speaking 💀

Nickname 1: Blue-belle

Yes that nickname was said as an insult

Apparently.

Not one of Coles best…

Zane escaped!

WAIT WHY IS PIXAL SCRAPPED?!?!?

How did that happen

If they never explain how then im headcannoning that instead of Zane putting himself back together. It was Pixal but she couldnt find the right nindroid parts, so she used herself, kinda like a lung transplant or something, in simple words. Especially since she had half his heart.

God these robots have gone through so much

“I was more upset about losing you!”

Ah yes the famed line

Jay and Cole made up so quickly😭

Why didn’t yall resolve this literally a few minutes ago all you had to say was a few words

AND NOW THEYRE FIGHTING TOGETHER

“I got your back!”

“And I’ve got yours.”

Theyre the bestest of friends i love their dynamic sm

Okay but you can tell that beforehand, they were yelling heated words at one another but they never tried to physically harm the other.

Theres so many moves theyre using rn that they didnt even try before

Thought process was probably like ‘okay so i can do this— wait that would actually hurt him.’

Lloyd using garmadons advice!!!!!

“Good work son :)”

When he becomes evil again im gonna be so heartbroken

Jay (now that one of them is being forced to take the jade blade): It should be you! We both know im lucky to even have gotten this far

Jay your really worrying me with your self deprecation at this point

The way Cole knew he would lose his power if he lost. That he doesn’t even really know where he’ll end up other than some sort of factory. But still sacrificed himself.

Got me feeling all emotional

God i could FEEL the euphoria of Kai learning him and skyler weren’t related, that was pure relief right there

Okay but that was some skilled manipulation.

Chen taking away something precious and then blaming it on Cole and Jay being uncooperative so everyone turns on them. Thats like manipulation 101

Smart tho

Kinda sucks that even Kai fell for it 🫠

Cole: you can take my clothes, my power! But you will never take my super strength!!!

Cole (tries to bust open the cell but fails): okay you got that too.

How is that even possible tho

Last I remember Coles super strength wasn’t connected to his elemental power

He picked up trees and shit when Lloyd was the golden ninja.

Cole getting all giddy and picking up a fortune cookie: you know theres a fortune in these right :D

Hes so stupid i love him.

Jay knowing how to roller-skate is so him.

Jay: did i ever tell you i got first place in the mother-son skate off!

Invisible guy: weirdo.

Dont need to be so rude about it damn.

Kai immediately fell on his ass in front of skyler its not looking too great for him

Jay doing flips/tricks in skates in the background, just having the time of his life is something so nice to see

Ninjagos actually pretty good with disabled representation.

Cyrus borgs character is just a good character in general, i like him a lot.

And the master of sound being blind. Yes, when he loses his elemental power he has trouble figuring out where people and things are but later hes shown as very skilled with hearing and stealth just from prior knowledge. Hes almost able to escape. before being fed to the serpentine that is.

OH. CAMILLE. LIKE CHAMELEON. BC SHE CAN SHAPE-SHIFT AND CHANGE FORM-

Chen is so entertaining as a character

Jay: its us against the world Kai!

That is smth so personal out of context

Skyler What the hell!!! Ik ur related to chen somehow but to pit Kai against his little brother?!?!?!

Also why is Kai so easy to manipulate

Youre not even here to win??? especially not against Lloyd. Your here for Zane.

Its so weird that only Kai doesnt know how to skate.

Skating isnt that common of a skill why do all these people know how to rollerblade AND shove people while doing it. Do you know how hard that actually is?

Nya (talking to herself): uhhhh nothing unusual to see here… just aaaa technological advanced mobile base camouflaged as a noodle truck 😀

Shes so funny i love her

Clouse: you were once comfortable with lying… it worked on Misako, didnt it?

now thats a low blow. How does he even know about the love letter.

Jay and Lloyd are so cool as a duo in this

Lloyd: you didnt learn that in your mother-son skate off, did you?

Jay: It was a fierce competition Lloyd 😤

Now i cant stop imaging Jay and edna shoving all these mothers and sons on skates while ed cheers in the back

Jays family makes me so soft

KAI DOING THE LITTLE MARCHES 😭😭😭

I remember doing that when I was learning

WAIT THAT WAS ACTUALLY IMPRESSIVE GO KAI

Jay is such a little bastard 💀

Jay dodging Camille as he holds her jade blade: i got it! You want it! I got it! You want it! Come and get it! Come and get it!!

FINALLY they're all on the ninjas side

Wait wait wait how was Lloyd able to turn the buggy into his own vehicle aren't only the techno blades able to do that?

Garmadon everytime Clouse tries to do dark magic: time to tackle this guy.

Why is he so dramatic just punch the pretentious fuck

Skyler: if all of us quit, what tournament would you have?

I feel like this was a moment where skyler stood up to Chen in a way.

Idk just makes me look at it in a different lense now that Ik they're related.

Cole: Zane!!! Your alive! You look- silver?

Zane: titanium. Cole you look, white!

Cole: (bursts out laughing)

the black cole head cannon is so funny in this moment

Cole sounds so happy to see Zane again 🥹

The voice actors are too good.

Guard: wheres Cole.

Cole: right here big guy! Whats wrong? Looks like youve seen a ghost.

They

Did

Not.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #Rewatching Ninjago

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

A post I made yesterday reminded me of how much I enjoy the absolute reverence Nish Kumar has for John Oliver, and how funny comparisons between the two often are. When he was hosting The Mash Report, Nish was often lauded as “Britain’s John Oliver”, as though John Oliver were the only other person to ever host a topical comedy TV show. Though actually comparisons were getting made even without that, as you can see in the start of this short compilation, from before The Mash Report began. At that point Nish was just considered similar to John Oliver because he did political comedy, as though John Oliver were the only other person to do political comedy.

But to be fair, I do see the comparisons beyond just the fact that they both do political comedy and hosted... or used to host... a TV show about it. There’s a similar outlook on the world and a similar “voice” behind it. A particular way to approach serious topics, by starting with just a monologue of things they genuinely believe, and then interspersing jokes and pop culture references and sort of compulsive self-deprecation every few sentences. And if we start with the idea that anyone who’s appeared on a topical comedy panel show has “done political comedy”, then John Oliver and Nish Kumar are both a lot more informed than most people you’ll see talking about that stuff (not more informed than other actual political comedians, but more than what you’d get on an average Mock the Week). They also both have the style I like of filling their points with asides and caveats, to let in room for nuance.

As Stuart Goldsmith delicately pointed out in that first clip (I say “delicately” because he was clearly trying to avoid accuse Nish of “ripping off” John Oliver, and I hope it’s clear that I’m not trying to do that either, comedians being influenced by others is normal and good; it’s how the best parts of comedy carry on as it evolves), I don’t think that’s a coincidence. The views Nish Kumar presents are his own, and so are the jokes obviously, but he was clearly influenced by John Oliver when developing that style. And not just television John Oliver – Nish Kumar has talked before about having been a long-time fan of The Bugle before he started appearing on it in 2016. He’s complained at times about how some of the running jokes in the Zaltzman and Oliver-era Bugle had meant he could never look at Florence Nightingale the same way again. The Florence Nightingale jokes started in 2008, when Nish would have still been in university and just starting to develop his comedy style. Of course that helped shape it, and I’m glad it did. There are thousands of aspiring comedians out there being influenced by Joe Rogan; I’m very happy to see some good guys also occasionally pass on a bit of their craft to the generations that follow them.

So at some point in Nish’s career he did start getting called “Britain’s John Oliver” a lot, by various people for various reasons. Except for Andy Zaltzman, who thinks it’s hilarious to call him “The British John Oliver”, a subtle difference that makes it much more of a dig at the actual John Oliver. Nish’s rise to fame coincided with John leaving The Bugle, where Nish literally replaced him as a Bugle co-host, and Andy Zaltzman dealt with that by making a lot of jokes about John being a traitor, just one of which suggesting that Nish had replaced him in all senses of the word (there were others, and they were just jokes and I’m sure Zaltzman and Oliver were on good terms in real life, but I have heard the words “Fuck you Percy Primetime” out of Andy’s mouth with what I’m fairly sure was at least some genuine bitterness, during the peak of John’s messy and prolonged departure from The Bugle). Now that I think about it, between the early 2010s and the late 2010s, Nish Kumar took over John Oliver’s place as Andy Zaltzman’s Bugle podcast partner, and as a go-to person in Daniel Kitson’s stand-up stories about his friends. It’s possible that Nish Kumar did actually just wait for John Oliver to cut ties and then steal his entire life.

Anyway, this is a short compilation of clips with Nish Kumar + John Oliver (just Nish talking about John, and one brief clip of John responding to the comparisons - I don’t think I know of any video or audio evidence of those two actually interacting with each other, though I might look that up now). The clip at the beginning is funny, as it’s Nish Kumar explaining that you’ll never get accused of ripping off a comedian who isn’t of your race because people never put comedians of different races together in their mind. Obviously, that interview occurred before Nish got famous enough so everyone did, in fact, start comparing him frequently to a white guy. It then goes into some Bugle clips and one from The Mash Report, all of which are, to use a technical comedy analysis term, fucking adorable. Genuinely adorable how obviously Nish reveres John Oliver, how excited he was to finally meet him and get to chase him all over a field, how he was genuinely willing to metaphorically throw hands with Piers Morgan to defend him, and how he took a moment out of his actual TV show to mention it. I’ve heard him go into more detail in some interviews as well, breaking down in more intelligent detail why he admires John Oliver so much, but I really like these clips where he’s just being funny while being really excited about his hero.

[pumpkincanoes]

Modern AU Xiaoae: Shutter Chance

Inspiration: しゃったーちゃんす by みきとP ft. IA Setting: Aether moved back to Liyue and was reunited with his highschool classmate, Xiao, who is now his neighbour. week 2 of having dinners together

"are you still living in that town where rain drizzles down?"

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"...Anyways, You need to stop ordering takeout and learn how to cook, you know."

Aether called out from the kitchen. Most likely talking to himself, as he could hear some mumbling before that, but Xiao responded anyways.

"I don't see the need to."

He says simply, closing his book and walking to the kitchen. "Takeout and convenience store lunch boxes will suffice. And there's really no need to make dinner for me every night."

Well, that came out colder than Xiao meant, but it is what's on his mind. Aether didn't need to call him to his place to have dinner together. Sure, he ordered takeout a lot, but Xiao was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He didn't understand where the need came from. If Aether felt obligated to do this, and why.

"No, I just do this because I want to. Dinner's more fun with friends, and there's not much difference in making one extra portion. You pay your share of the ingredients too"

Aether put on an unreadable expression as he said this. Hands moving almost on autopilot, seasoning the fried rice, cutting up vegetables. They fall into a busy silence as Xiao took out plates and set them on the table. Or maybe they were just keeping themselves busy as a way to avoid the elephant in the room.

l just do this because I want to.

The words rang in Xiao's mind like a spell, each time the meaning changes slightly, yet it still made him happy. Confused, but happy.

"Then why not have dinner with your friends? It's been a month since you moved and it seems like you've gotten to know more people than I have my whole life."

Aether chuckled at the statement.

"Haha! yeah, no, I befriended a few people. I also met a few of our old classmates, and sure, I'll invite them over sometime..."

'When I mentioned you were my neighbour they teased me for the huge crush I used to have on you.' Aether thought, but kept it to himself. He really didn't know how to proceed with this. But fuck it, what'a there to lose, right?

"But I want to do this with you." Aether said finally.

"It's... more fun this way."

Time felt like it had stopped as Aether waited for a response. Xiao had a thoughtful expression. like he couldn't understand what Aether was saying.

"More fun..." Xiao repeated.

In all honesty, he really did not understand Aether's motivation. He wasn't someone who's 'fun to be around', and not in a self-deprecating kind of way, but just as a matter of fact. Xiao didn't enjoy other's company that much either. If it wasn't Aether, he would've refused the offer in the first place.

"I see." he grunted. An unfamiliar warmth rising up to his face. Maybe he's getting sick. He should tell Aether to stop inviting him for a while... That's a shame, he really enjoyed the time they share together. --Midway through his train of thought he realized he hasn't given an adequate reply, so he said simply:

"It's more fun for me as well."

He paused for a second and added, "with you, I mean."

Aether's mind felt like it was going to implode. But he kept it together, hoping the blush on his cheeks would go unnoticed. The smile that crept up his face he disguised as a joking laugh.

"Aww, thank you. I didn't know you learned how to exchange pleasantries" He teased Xiao as they sat down the dinner table.

Xiao wore a confused expression.

"? I don't think I 'exchanged pleasantries' exactly, I still think they're unnecessary. I only said that because it was true."

If Aether's blush weren't visible before, they're definitely visible now. his mouth was agape as he processed what Xiao just said.

That's it. If he keeps this up I will actually be back to being hopelessly in love with him.

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#little did he know he was already whipped #he actually was whipped he whole time #xiaoaether #xiao #aether #drabble #theyre in love your honor #writing #canoe works