#ok I’ll be normal on the dash now

[pocji]

the thing about both gukkie and pyoji is at some point I just became so aware of their struggles with mental health and hardships they had in their careers (especially the way gukkie still shoulders all the guilt that comes with bap and what happened to them) that it stopped being an attraction thing for me like. I love them both dearly and I am just proud of them :’)

[apathyfairy]

i always said that once i stop caring what other people think about me it’s over for you bitches and it’s finally happened i’m literally untouchable

[magiccath]

The Doctor's Coat

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which you're not that cold, you just like wearing the Doctor's coat (ft. a bit of Martha) (Based on a request from @internet-stranger-says-hi)

As always, it was supposed to be a relaxing trip. A normal weekend getaway in a fancy hotel. The Doctor felt a bit bad about all the running you had been doing, so he wanted to treat you and Martha. 

But, trouble followed the Doctor, that much you knew. So, frankly, you weren’t that surprised when you ended up running around the massive building fighting off homicidal aliens. At this point, it was just another day for you. As annoying as it could be at times, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Doctor gripped your hand tightly in his as you ran, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours. He was very prone to grabbing your hand at the slightest suggestion of danger, but you seemed oblivious to this. Surely he must do that with everyone, right?

“I’ll hold them off!” Martha called from behind you, going down a separate hall from you and the Doctor. You knew she could more than handle herself, but you still worried. You didn’t like it much when the three of you separated. The Doctor, on the other hand, was more worried about getting you to safety. You were always his first priority. 

He turned a corner sharply, almost ramming into the wall. His dirty old Converse thudded against the garishly patterned carpet as he rushed for the hotel’s kitchen. You struggled to keep up with him, desperately trying not to trip over yourself. 

The Doctor led you through the winding halls at a surprising speed, the walls rushing by in a blur. You weren’t sure where you were, or where you were going. The only thing you did know was the Doctor would get you to safety. He always did.

He dashed through the closest door, casting worried glances over his shoulder. In his rush, he didn’t pay much attention to where you were going. He guided the two of you into a room without really looking inside and shut the door behind him. You were too busy catching your breath to pay much attention either.

“We should be safe in here,” he said reassuringly, peering out of the small window on the door. He still seemed entirely oblivious to your surroundings. 

Your breathing started to steady and you looked around the room. A frost covered the walls and the metal racks, small crystalline structures stuck to anything they could latch onto.

“You put us in a freezer,” you pointed out, starting to feel the chill on your skin. It wasn’t unbearable, just noticeable. 

The Doctor looked around, just now realizing where the two of you had ended up. 

“Well…” he winced, peeking back out again. The kitchen appeared to be empty. 

“We should probably be safe to make a run for it,” he suggested, pacing back and forth. “We could reconvene with Martha and get out of here?” 

“Let’s,” you shivered, the cold starting to penetrate your sweater. The sooner you could get out of here the better.

The Doctor moved to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked it repeatedly and even tried kicking it. He pulled the Sonic Screwdriver out, buzzing around the door. Slowly, he turned back to look at you with a nervous smile.

You’d seen that look many times before. You’d seen it when he left you stranded on Mars on accident, when he crashed the TARDIS into the side of your Grandparent’s house, and when he neglected to tell you he replaced the ship’s toilet with a DIY chemistry lab.

“You locked us in here,” you gasped, throwing your hands up in frustration. 

“I’m sorry,” he winced. You could see on his face how much it upset him. As frustrating as the situation was, you couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him. You never did, no matter how bad he messed things up.

“It’s ok,” you whispered, shuffling your feet. You could handle a bit of cold, it’s not like the Doctor did it on purpose anyway. 

“Here,” the Doctor said, slipping his coat off, “take this, it should help keep you warm.” 

“What about you?” 

“I don’t get cold,” the Doctor shrugged, pushing the coat into your arms. You stared at it for a moment, surprised to even be holding it. The Doctor’s coat was one of his most prized possessions, even if something just like it could be found in just about every charity shop across London. 

Slowly, you slid your arms through the coat, shrugging it on. The fabric was a well-loved cotton, softened from years of wear and wash. Strangely, it was very warm.

“Better?” The Doctor asked, worried. You wrapped the coat tightly around yourself and smiled, nodding your agreement. 

This was much better, and not because you were a little cold. The coat smelled like the Doctor - exactly like the Doctor. It felt like being hugged by him, and you relished the feeling. You burrowed further into the jacket, closing your eyes blissfully. You could stay like this forever.

“Hey,” The Doctor put his hands on your shoulders, “don’t fall asleep on me,” he urged, figuring that you were much colder than you were. 

“Martha should be around soon and she’ll get us out, I promise,” he reassured, rubbing his hands up and down on your arms to create friction. You peered out from under his coat to look him in the eye. His face was riddled with anxiety, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring at you with worry. 

You blushed a deep red, finding his concern adorable. You really were fine, especially now that you had a coat to keep you toasty. Even if you were cold, you wouldn’t really mind it considering the circumstances. You were wrapped up in the Doctor’s coat as he rubbed your arms lovingly - it was like a dream.

The Doctor misread your blush and assumed that the cold was flushing your face. He moved his hands up to your face, cradling it. He knew his hands weren’t exactly warm, but maybe the contact could keep the cold out. His thumbs rubbed soft, concentric circles into your skin. He traced the words of a language only he knew into your skin, trying anything to comfort you.

“I’ll get you out, it will be ok,” he reassured again. He moved his hands to wrap the coat tighter around your body, pulling the collar up to shield the lower part of your face. “Hang in there for me,” he urged, eyes still pained with anxiety.

You let out a soft shiver, the constant contact making you incredibly flustered. Again, the Doctor misread your responses to his affections. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure out a way to warm you up. If he lost you to frostbite due to his own obliviousness he would never forgive himself.

“Shh,” he hushed, even though you hadn’t said anything. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms again, desperately trying to warm you up. 

“I’m so sorry that I got you into this situation,” he sighed, still rubbing you gently. 

You shook your head quickly, “s’alright.” You would never admit it to him, but you were really enjoying this. Maybe being trapped in a freezer wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“No,” The Doctor shook his head, “it’s really no-”

Suddenly, the door to the freezer opened and Martha popped her head in. “What on Earth are you two doing in here?” She asked, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. The Doctor was known to do weird things, but this had to be high up on the list of strange hiding places. 

“Martha!” The Doctor cried, overjoyed to see her. “Hurry, we need to get them out of here,” he urged, already guiding you out of the freezer. He practically pushed you out, his hands never leaving your body.

“Please check on them, they’re freezing,” he urged, guiding you to a seat. You were perfectly capable of directing yourself, but the Doctor seemed adamant on it. He was babbling incoherently, waving his hands about in distress.

“How long were you in there?” Martha asked, she had split from you less than an hour ago. Surely you couldn’t have caught frostbite in that little time. She leaned down in front of you, her fingers resting against your neck to check your pulse.

“10, maybe 15 minutes?” The Doctor started wringing his hands anxiously. 

After taking your pulse she placed both hands on your face, gauging the temperature of your skin. You were chilly, but nowhere near cold enough to warrant the Doctor’s distress. 

“They’re fine,” Martha shrugged. 

“Are you sure? Check again,” the Doctor begged, his eyes still seeping with anxiety. 

Martha sighed exasperatedly, “I’m sure.” 

Behind her, you turned a deep scarlet. It was embarrassing to watch the whole interaction, but you were too flustered to admit that you really just liked wearing the Doctor’s coat. It was easier to let them argue than admit you had a crush.

“Look!” The Doctor cried, pointing at you, “They’re all flushed! Something has to be wrong.” He fiddled anxiously, bouncing slightly on his feet. Looking at him you’d think you had grown a second head or something terrifying. 

Martha looked over at you, her eyebrows furrowed. You avoided her gaze, picking at your hands absentmindedly in your lap. She quickly picked up on what was happening and rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” She whispered to you sharply. You pursed your lips, shrugging slightly in response. 

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” The Doctor asked, growing more worried by the minute. 

“Please tell him, this is getting ridiculous,” Martha groaned, her eyes pleading with you. There was only so much of this she could put up with.

“Tell me what?” The Doctor was hovering now, fiddling anxiously, “is everything alright, what’s wrong?” he asked you this time, moving closer to you. 

“I’m gonna give you a minute,” Martha said, her eyes darting between the two of you. You tried to open your mouth to protest but she was already slipping out the door, leaving you alone with the Doctor.

He crouched before you, his hands resting on your knees, “what’s wrong?” He asked, looking up at you. You could tell he was holding his anxiety back, trying not to let his own worries affect you.

“I’m fine,” you blushed, looking down at the floor. You really didn’t want to admit your feelings for the Doctor, especially like this. You supposed you didn’t have much else of a choice, Martha had made sure of that.

“I-I just,” you whispered, not really wanting the Doctor to hear you, “liked wearing your coat.” 

“You what?” the Doctor gasped, surprised. He wasn’t entirely sure he had heard you right.

“It smells like you,” you mumbled the justification more to yourself than him. 

“You’re not sick?” He asked, clearly more worried about your health than your confession. 

“I’m perfectly fine,” you let out a small chuckle, “nothing to worry about here.” 

“You’re not cold?” 

You shook your head, you were far from cold now. In fact, the anxiety was making you sweat.

“You just liked wearing my coat?” He clarified eyebrows furrowed as his brain struggled to keep up. Could this mean you liked him? He tried not to get his hopes too high.

Embarrassed, you nodded your head meekly. God, this was awful. You wanted nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Is that so?” He laughed, a cocky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Oh shush,” you scolded, hitting his arm lightly. Of course, he found this amusing.

He smiled softly at you, his eyes softening as he realized you were going to be ok. Better than ok. He brought his hand up to your face, cradling your cheek in his soft hand.

“Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?” He smiled inquisitively. 

Your eyes widened, your face turning the deepest red it had been since getting into the freezer. Perhaps he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“Maybe,” you whispered, it’s not like you could really hide it anymore. The Doctor’s face immediately lit up, a large grin taking over his entire face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you frowned, confused by his sudden excitement. He should be upset, kicking you out of the TARDIS, or making excuses for reasons he couldn’t love you back. Instead, he was still sitting there looking at you with that stupid grin. It was impossible to fight back the small smile tugging at your lips when he was looking at you like that. 

“What if I told you I had a crush on you too?” He whispered mischievously, his eyes twinkling with excitement. 

You stiffened, shocked by his admission. “If you’re having a joke I’m gonna throw you into an exploding star.” 

The Doctor chuckled, the sound dancing around the room. “No, I’m not.” 

“You really fancy me?” 

“How could I not?” He hummed, stroking your cheek gently. You were stunning. You were always stunning to him, no matter the conditions.

The Doctor leaned closer to you, hoving slightly over your lips. His warm breath fanned your face, sending shivers down your spine. He stayed there for a moment, giving you plenty of time to pull back. When you didn’t, he brought his lips gently into yours. 

He kissed you like you were his entire world, his hand still holding your face. He was soft and gentle, but incredibly loving. You melted against him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer to you.

Martha silently poked her head in the door to check on you, just in case. She sighed when she saw the two of you in a tight embrace, closing the door to go handle the alien invasion on her own. 

[dansemacabre]

are you stuck trying to decode the book of bill but you don’t want the keys handed to you? i was in your shoes literally three days ago! i failed and looked up codes on reddit (because a good grade in book of bill is a normal thing to want and a possible thing to get) but now you don’t have to!! here are some BOOK OF BILL CODEBREAKING HINTS designed to kindly shove you in the right direction!

my credentials are: one summer cryptography class i took in high school, autism, weirdly good pattern recognition (probably because of the autism), and a desperate need to make things make sense. sorry in advance if any of this seems patronizing. hints below the page break!!

general tips:

- A and I will become your bestest friends. like 99 times out of 100 any single letter is a or i. try those out first

- the apostrophe will also become your bestest friend- especially x’x, which will almost always be i’m (except there’s one place in the book where it is not. don’t make my mistakes.)

- themysteryofgravityfalls.com is SO so helpful. for non-symbolic ciphers u can lowkey put in codes and button mash caesar and atbash. godsend. devilsend? idk someone sent it and it’s wonderful

- call every phone number, visit every website. they bought those domains for a reason! i think!

- any list of numbers 1-26 is a1z26. like that’s simply a truth

cipher specific hints now !!!

RUNES (characters taken from norse runes)

- there is a key for this one in the book! maybe u spotted it right away but i did not lol, so look for an instance of 26 rune-y characters!

- the rune code on the inside cover is a graffiti joke- translates to a common thing people write on walls or carve into books made out of brain matter ig

THERAPESE (found in the last few pages during bills court-ordered therapy)

- bill’s picture is labeled in this section, so those characters translate directly to “bill cipher” ! once you have those, you can apply them to other instances of the code and go from there

- the rest of the names of the… things around him on the inpatients page are puns, titles, and/or weird words. they might look wrong until you have Every Character- trust ur key! use the rest of the instances of this code to find the missing letters first, make sense of it and laugh at the clever little joke later

BROSCODE (only two instances, found in journal 3 lost pages)

- the name is a hint by itself- this is stanley and stanford related! both stans use it once somewhere in the book!

NEWBILL (the most common symbolic cipher in the book)

- if you have journal three, the characters are VERY similar to a code there- not the same though, so don’t try and use that key. but like journal three, this code will (almost) always be bill speaking.

- ok lowkey i think the best way to explain this is just to give you one answer. i cracked this by randomly guessing that the small writing by the galaxy drawing on the journal three page “a voice form the past” translates to “forget the past”. go from there my loves

- that being said. everything else from journal three uses the same characters, but a different code. haven’t cracked it yet. looking for advice tee bee haych. i’ll edit this once i find it out

- also: dipper uses this code in his section. that’s pretty helpful to get most of the rest of the characters!

now some page specific hints!:

silly straw page. Oh god

- damn that themysteryofgravityfallsdotcom sure is helpful! Anyway,

- the numbers code is Weird. but the number don’t equal letters. notice the spaces between number groups- pair the groups, try and add a dash somewhere within the first group and a colon somewhere within the second group. you’ll have to use your resources a little

- if that made zero sense: “uhvrxufhv” phdqv brxu idyrulwh ghhsob ohjdo wy vkrz ylhzlqj zhevlwh. ru brxu kxox dffrxqw

- sorry for the vagueness but i really don’t want to spoil this one- i got it spoiled but i think figuring it out on your own would be really rewarding and worth your Time

messages on your tv

- there are strange boxes on the bottom of the page. gonna be so honest don’t know how they mean anything at all to anyone but allegedly it’s a code! i’ll look into it. idk man

okay. i think that’s all i’ve got? please comment if u have questions for me or other folks on here or suggestions on how to sound less like a fucking nerd talking abt this shit. idk i love that people are set on cracking this book asap but i hope this helps ppl who prefer The Thrill Of The Chase and also like to feel smart and important and so very talented

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Waste away with me

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 6

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, brief descriptions of illness (obligatory sitcom sick episode alert), Matt being dumb, disgusting levels of pining

a/n: This was originally part of Heaven Help the Fool but that chapter would've been almost 9k so I split it up. I'm pretty proud of this half so I hope you all like it! As always, reblogs and comments are especially appreciated.

w/c: 4.4k

Swaying your hips to the rhythm of the song blasting through your headphones, you scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot of food on the pan you were cleaning. Your sock-covered feet bounced from side to side as you danced, traipsing around your kitchen as you washed the dishes. Waltzing another sudsy item over to the drying rack, you giggled to yourself as it nearly slipped from your grasp. 

It had been ages since you’d danced around a kitchen, something that had brought you joy since you were little. You were hesitant to let yourself act so carefree, even in front of Jen and Oscar. The only person who had ever witnessed your uninhibited performances before was your mother, and spinning around on the wood floor of your kitchen when you were home alone was a great cure for your homesickness—giving you a taste of home right here in New York City. 

As you rinsed soap from the rubber gloves you were wearing, you were startled out of your daydreaming by a shrill ringtone. Peeling off the banana-yellow gloves, you answered your phone with a frown. 

“Hey Matt, you ok?” You weren’t sure why this call had already set off alarm bells in your brain. Perhaps it was because of how frustrated Matt had seemed lately, even after you’d helped him organize his room. The poor boy was drained, only more so over the last two days because Foggy had fallen ill and Matt had taken it upon himself to nurse the blond boy back to health. 

“Uh, yah. Yep, I’m good.” Matt’s voice was breathless and almost sluggish, the words spilling through the speaker just too far apart from one another to sound normal. The response did nothing to quiet your concerns. 

“Ok…did you need something?” You prompted after he failed to explain himself. 

“Oh right, um, it’s raining and I, uh, I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?” Was he drunk? His sentence was a complete thought, but it seemed like he was barely stringing it together coherently. 

“Yah, of course.” You responded, slipping a pair of shoes on and searching for your keys. “Where are you, trouble?” 

“Er, the pharmacy by the auditorium.” 

“Ok, trouble, stay dry. I’ll be there soon.” You promised, hurrying out the door and into the stormy weather. 

When you arrived at the pharmacy, your chest squeezed in sympathy at the pathetic sight before you. Huddled on a bench under the awning of the pharmacy was Matt, his hoodie soaked with rain. You could see your poor friend shaking from the cold, arms huddled around his waist as he waited. After parking your car hastily, you dashed over to him with an open umbrella, understanding beginning to flow through your mind as you studied his appearance. 

Up close, his trembling was vicious, shaking drops of rainwater off of his hair and glasses. He was breathing heavily and his nose was bright red. And, perhaps more worrying than all of those things combined, he hadn’t noticed you standing right in front of him. 

Matt always knew when you were around. It was almost scary. You and Foggy liked to joke that he had super powers, but he explained he was just used to relying on his other senses to inform him of his surroundings. 

They clearly weren’t working properly right now, though. 

“Matty?” You asked softly, braving the puddles and kneeling in front of him. Holding the umbrella up higher to shield both of you from the pelting rain, you flinched as his hand shot out, grabbing you by the lapel and yanking you forward before recognition relaxed his jaw. 

“Bug?” 

“Yah, trouble, it’s me.” Shaking off the shock that had brewed in your throat when Matt yanked you to the ground, you continued. “Let’s get you into my car where it’s warmer.”

Taking his arm gently, you guided him under the umbrella and towards your car. Matt’s body sagged against yours as you walked, dampening your own sweater with the moisture from his clothes. Once he was settled in your passenger seat, you closed the umbrella, tossing it in the trunk before racing to the driver’s side and hopping in the car. 

“Ok, Matty, am I taking you back to your dorm?” You asked, restraining yourself from brushing stray raindrops off his flushed cheeks. 

“Yes please.” His voice was hoarse, quiet. Too distant from the charming, velvet tone you loved so much. 

Nodding habitually, you backed out of the parking space and drove faster than normal through campus. 

“Why were you at the pharmacy in such shitty weather?” You wondered aloud, unsure if he had the energy to respond. 

“Getting cold medicine and tissues for Foggy.” He answered tiredly. 

“Sounds like you might need some of that yourself, trouble. How long have you been sick?” 

“‘M fine.” Came Matt’s gruff response, shutting down your genuine concern with two words. 

“Alrighty then.” You said, more to yourself than him, but you didn’t say anything further. 

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, save for a few stifled sneezes that you pretended not to hear for the sake of Matt’s dignity. In no time, you were rolling up to the front door of his building. 

“Did you want me to walk you up?” You asked cautiously. 

“No, I’ll be ok, sweetheart.” Matt sighed, seeming a bit more lucid after warming up. “Foggy is really gross right now and I’d hate for you to catch this.” 

“Ok, well, take good care of each other. And, maybe take a few days off? To rest so you don’t get sick too?” You proposed, hoping he wouldn’t be too grumpy with the suggestion. 

Matt nodded heavily, running a hand under his nose. “Not a bad idea. I'm sorry for calling you for a ride but the buses weren’t running and—“ 

“Matt,” You placed your hand on his thigh. “It’s ok. It’s disgusting outside. Even if the buses are running, you can always call me. Always, yah?” 

“Ok. I’m sorry.” 

You chuckled, squeezing his leg. “You’re forgiven, trouble. Go get some sleep please.” 

“I will. Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe?” 

“Of course. Have a good night, bubs.” With a final pat on his thigh, you watched as Matt left the safety of your car and braved the rain as he headed up to his room. Shaking your head, you hoped he’d hold up his end of your agreement. 

Sinking into the tiny fold-up chair, you closed your eyes as the legs squeaked against their corresponding bolts. The empty chairs bordering yours did nothing to protect you from the draft that kept bursting through the door every time a student entered. Usually, there were two people sitting on either side of you to shield you from the bitter cold in the city outside. 

Holding back a sigh, you wrapped your arms around your stomach in an attempt to retain heat. You were grateful that the boys had stayed home to rest, you supposed, but their absence still weighed on you. Biting your bottom lip before it could shift into a pout, you shuddered against an especially fierce gust of wind as someone stumbled in a minute before class was supposed to start. 

You ignored their footsteps, until they entered your row; the shadow of the newcomer blocking the side of your face from the flickering fluorescent lights as they shuffled towards you. 

A pit formed in your stomach as you turned your head; deep regret surging through you for wishing you had company when you took in his appearance. 

“Matt?” You whispered, laying a hand on his arm as he tumbled backwards into his usual seat to your right. 

If you thought he had looked rough last night, he looked positively deathly now. His skin was pale and shining with sweat, no doubt from the exertion of getting to class. A bright pink flush stained his cheeks and nose, accentuating the hollow circles under his eyes. 

“Oh bubba,” You gasped, reaching out to touch his heated cheek. To your surprise, he flinched at the movement, suspending your hand in midair, doomed to hover around his face as you scolded the dreadfully ill boy. “What are you doing here?” 

Leaning into your touch sloppily, apprehension abandoned, Matt exhaled raggedly. “We had class.” His voice was strained beyond recognition, causing your own throat to throb painfully in sympathy. 

“You sound like you feel awful, Matty. You knew I would be here taking notes, why’d you leave your bed?” You tutted in soft disapproval. Fighting the urge to hold him close in front of the entire lecture hall, you moved your hand to his arm, sliding it into his elbow. His skin was burning, even through his layers; your shivering a distant memory as his fever warmed you both. 

“Didn’t want to be a burden.” Matt murmured, facing the front of the room rather than your surprised gaze. 

“Matthew, you are never a burden for needing help,” You admonished gently, stroking your thumb over his forearm. Before you could attempt to drill that fact into his stubborn mind, your professor began lecturing. “We will talk more about this later. I will take good notes, you focus on not fainting.” You hissed, withdrawing your hand from his arm. 

“‘M not gonna faint.” He muttered, but even he didn’t seem certain of that fact. 

The 150 minute class ticked by idly, the scratching of your pen diligently scribbling on paper slowly drove you mad as Matt slumped further into your personal space; his chin slowly inched towards his chest as he fell asleep to the sounds of your professor’s absurdly boring speech. Every instinct in your body was telling you to grab the kid and bolt, somehow getting him home and bundled up before he contracted pneumonia. 

After what felt like days, your professor finally dismissed you. Sighing harshly, you smiled at Matt’s sleeping face, almost feeling guilty waking him. 

“Ok, trouble, up and at ‘em.” You nudged his shoulder, catching him as he almost tumbled out of his seat with a start. “C’mon, bubs. We gotta get you home.”

“Home?” Matt slid his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes blearily.

“Yah, Matty. Back to your dorm, so you can sleep some more.” You explained, stroking a hand over his back as the students around you filed out of the lecture hall. 

“But…we have class.” Matt’s lips slid into a pout, his nose scrunching in confusion. 

“No, trouble, I have class. You are going to sleep off this wretched bug while I take notes for you and Fog.” 

Matt grumbled, but didn’t argue further. Gently tugging on his hand, you pulled him out of his chair and out the door, holding him tightly against your side as you both braved the freezing weather. 

By the time you reached his building, your jaw was stiff with concern. On an average day, Matt’s movements were graceful and calculated. As he descended into his feverish delirium, however, he began to rely more heavily on your strength to keep him from crashing to the pavement. Dragging him up the stairs, the two of you miraculously stumbled to his door without injury. 

Passing you his lanyard, Matt shifted his weight to the drywall surrounding his door as you unlatched the lock and pushed into the room. The space was shrouded in darkness, a set of thick sheets draped over the window panes to block out all natural light. 

Allowing your eyes to adjust, you rested a hand on Matt’s shoulder as he shuffled into the room. “Hey, Fog. Sorry to bust in unannounced. Wanted to make sure that Trouble here…” Trailing off, your strained eyes flitted over Foggy’s empty bed. Brow furrowing in confusion, you looked back to the dark haired boy for an explanation. 

“Where’s Foggy, Matt?”

“Went back to Hell’s Kitchen for the week.” Frowning, Matt’s brow pinched in distress. “Thought I told you that.” 

Holding back a sigh, you fiddled with the straps of your backpack as you debated how to best help the ill boy who was currently kicking his shoes off and collapsing into bed. 

“Ok, bubba,” You crouched beside him, fussing with his comforter until he was properly bundled. “Have you taken anything for that fever today?” 

Shaking his head, which knocked his glasses askew, Matt’s frown deepened. “Didn’t know I had to.” 

“You don’t have to, but it’ll help you feel better.” Gently sliding his lenses off of his pale face before they were damaged or lost, you scanned the grim space for anything that could help. Lips twitching in satisfaction when you spotted a container of Tylenol, you handed Matt a few pills and his water bottle. 

“There. That should do for now. Will you be ok if I head to class?” 

A muscle in Matt’s jaw twitched as his expression turned stony. “Yes.” 

Brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, you nodded hesitantly. “Ok, trouble. I’ll be back later to check on you. Call me if you need anything.” 

Matt nodded, but you doubted he took your request to heart. 

Shifting your backpack to your other shoulder, you sighed as the weight refused to distribute in a more comfortable way across your upper back. The fluorescent lights above you buzzed as you ran your fingers over another blanket—still unsatisfied with how soft the options were. If they weren’t perfect to you, they might not even be bearable for your friend and his sensitive skin. 

Stopping at Target before returning to Matt wasn’t strictly necessary, but the boy had seemed so chilled in class, you figured he could use a nice soft throw blanket to add to his bed. You weren’t quite sure how to care for a sick person, but you had a few ideas give your own experiences. 

You’d picked up soup from a local deli, printed off the notes you’d taken in class today using the braille printer, and were tossing the softest blanket you could find into your cart before hurrying to check out. Though it had only been a few hours, you were growing increasingly worried about Matt and the fact that he was all alone in his dark room, hopefully not coughing his lungs out or burning up with fever. 

Setting the bagged blanket back in your passenger seat, you blew out a breath before shifting your car into drive. The city lights blurred in the corners of your vision as you jerked forward in the line of evening traffic, worming your way closer to Matt with every lift of your foot from the brake pedal. Eventually, you were able to squeeze into a well-worn parking space. Flipping open your phone, you hoped that your ill friend would be coherent enough to grant you access to the building.

After a ring, an out-of-breath Matt answered with a brief, “Hello?”

“Hey! I, uh, brought you some stuff. Are you able to let me in or should I lurk until someone leaves?” You asked distractedly, craning your neck to see if you could dash for the exit as a group of boys left.

The boy huffed a laugh, knowing you were only partially joking about waiting for entry. “I'll be down in a second, Bug. Please don't scare the regulars.“  His voice was still more stuffy than normal, but he seemed to know what was going on--which was an improvement from this morning.

You snorted in response. ”No promises, Matty. I'm impatiently awaiting your presence.“ Your voice sing-songed with the last sentence, making him groan.

”Alright, alright, I'm coming.“

Sure enough, a few minutes after he abruptly ended the call, a hoodie-clad Matthew leaned out of the door frame and waved you over. ”Hurry up, sweetheart, it's cold outside.“

Smiling at the familiar fond-exasperation and sarcasm that your friend had been lacking lately, you darted across the parking lot, squeezing his bicep as you passed. ”Maybe you should've worn a jacket, trouble.“

“Maybe I should've.” He smiled, letting the door whoosh closed behind the two of you. “You didn't have to come back, you know.” His voice shifted into a murmur, his expression becoming unreadable as he slipped his hand into your elbow thoughtlessly.

Gently bumping your hip into his, your face flooded with warmth as he smiled at the action. “Course I did, trouble. I wasn't about to leave you here to wallow in your misery alone. Being alone when sick is the worst.”

Matt shrugged as you reached the top of the stairs, panting slightly from exertion as he pushed his door open for you. “I wouldn't know.”

Smile falling, you looked back at Matt, his body turned away from you as he closed the door and slipped out of his shoes.

“What do you mean, Matty?” You wondered aloud, settling yourself on his bed and clasping your hands around the handle of the shopping bag you held as you waited for his response.

”Oh, I mean, growing up in an orphanage and all,“ Matt chuckled hollowly, keeping his face tilted away from you, his body desperately trying to stop you from seeing through his stoicism, as you always did. ”Always too many kids and too little time, the sisters couldn't exactly sit at my bedside. And I wasn't exactly popular amongst the kids, so I guess I never had anything to compare the loneliness to.“

Matt tangled his hands together, squeezing them as he spoke, as if he wasn't quite ready to sit back down.

”I mean, I'm sure my dad was good about it, but I can't really remember--“ His voice cracked off into a jagged coughing fit. Sliding from the mattress, you ushered him into a seated position.

”Careful there, trouble. Still gotta breathe.“ Rubbing his back as he caught his breath, you handed him his water bottle--grimacing when he grinned at you maniacally.

”You sure? Choking to death is pretty fun.“ He rasped, sipping the water slowly.

Scoffing through a laugh, you shook your head, planting yourself next to him on the bed. ”That's dark, trouble.“

Smirking as he finished the water, Matt gave a one-armed shrug. ”You've heard darker.“

”Touche.“ Kicking your feet like a child on a swing, you chewed the inside of your cheek. ”About what you said, Matty--“

Groaning, Matt fell backwards onto the mattress, bouncing you with his weight. He threw an arm over his face. “I was hoping we'd just move past it.”

“Were you?” You raised an eyebrow, unsure how truthful the statement was.

“I mean, nothing we can do about it now.” He muttered, his jaw tensing beneath his forearm.

“Well, that's not exactly true...” You argued, unwrapping an item from the thin plastic bag you'd hauled in. Unfurling the large square of fabric, you draped it over Matt carefully, quickly turning back to organize the rest of the supplies you'd brought. “I'll just have to teach you.”

”Teach me what?“ Matt croaked, lifting his head to allow his ears to track your movement as you bustled about, his fingers absentmindedly petting the soft blanket you'd thrown across him.

“How to be sick,” You responded matter-of-factly, not entirely alleviating Matt's confusion.

“Pretty sure I'm doing that just fine without a lesson.” Matt chuckled, gesturing to his pale face.

“Oh, you have definitely got the pathetic wallowing handled.” You nodded, returning with a container of soup and a spoon.

“Pathetic?” Matt pouted, his nose crinkling in offense.

Ignoring him, you withdrew one of his hands from the blanket envelope, placing the plastic tub into it. “I'm going to teach you how to be cared for. Lesson number one: Letting people bring you soup. It's the first step to a speedy recovery“

”These lessons feel incredibly subjective,“ Matt groused, face briefly lighting up as he placed the first spoonful of soup into his mouth, digging into the container earnestly as the taste hit his tongue.

”To the contrary, Murdock, these lessons are based firmly in statistics.“

”I'd like to review your citations.“

Pretending not to hear him, you continued. ”Lessons two and three are soft blankets and rest--two things that I know you're not familiar with, so I'm afraid to say you might not be credible to comment on the validity of these remedies.”

“My blanket is plenty soft.”

“Oh is it? I mean, I can take this back if you don't want it.” As you moved to retrieve the blanket from around him, Matt growled, hands clenching around fistfuls of the fuzzy material.

“I'm sorry, would you like to keep it?” You grinned, your smug attitude seeping into your words.

Matt feigned an eye roll. “Well if the experts think it'll help me feel less shitty, I guess it's worth a shot.”

“See, that's the spirit!”

Smiling, Matt cocked his head at you. “What's next on the syllabus, Professor?”

”This is the best part, Matty,“ You said excitedly, rummaging through your bag to find the item you were thrilled to share with him. ”Jen let me borrow her iPod! I downloaded an audiobook for us.“

Taken aback, Matt had to consciously remember to breathe before responding. ”That's...you didn't have to do that, bug.“

”I figured you'd probably be bored, sitting here without Foggy all day. And, I haven't passed the bar yet, but I'm pretty sure it's illegal to do homework when you feel like crap.“

Matt shook his head with a small laugh. ”What book is it?“

”It's called The Alchemist. I read it with my mom last year when she was undergoing treatment. I think you'll like it.“

”Thank you, sweetheart.“ Matt could feel a flush spreading over his cheeks that was unrelated to his current fever. Feeling entirely exposed and vulnerable, he took a leap. ”I...uh, I really didn't enjoy being by myself this afternoon. I'm happy that you came back.“

”Of course, Matty.” You murmured, stroking stray wisps of hair from his forehead. “I never want you to be alone if you don't want to be. I'll always come back to you.”

The heaviness of that statement didn’t escape either of you. Sitting in silence for a moment, Matt was unsure whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Even if you're ridiculously grumpy when sick.” You sighed dramatically, shaking your head.

Your stupid joke decided his next move, startling a laugh from his mouth. ”I'm not that bad, am I?“

”I guess we'll find out, won't we?“ You giggled. ”But don't worry, I'm not easily scared off.“

Maybe you should be. His brain immediately supplied. Praying his face didn’t betray the immense doubt that abruptly smacked him upside the head, he focused on the feather-light touch of your fingers in his hair. 

Before his mind could spiral any further, you spoke again. “If you ever need space, say the word and I'll be gone. It has been recently brought to my attention that I'm not great at taking hints.” Your thighs brushed together beside him as you shifted nervously. 

Frowning at your words, he leaned into you. “What do you mean, sweetheart? Who brought it to your attention?“

Huffing a bitter laugh, Matt could practically hear your walls going up as you backpedaled. ”It's nothing, Matty. I didn't mean anything by it–”

“Bug, please don't lie.” Sliding a single hand out from his blanket cocoon, he groped around until his fingers found yours, intertwining them. “Talk to me?”

Breathing deeply, you confessed. “At the Halloween party, a couple weeks ago, I heard Everett talking to his friends, they were ragging on him for being whipped or some stupid bullshit and he...fuck I can't believe I'm still upset about this.” 

You scoffed at your own frustration, running a finger over Matt’s knuckles absentmindedly. “Instead of defending me, or even just saying nothing, he called me clingy. And, ever since, he, like, refuses to acknowledge me in public.”

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” Matt felt a familiar rage bubbling in his stomach, churning fiercely at the thought of you being so insecure because of an idiot like Everett.

“It's fine, I mean, I talked to him about it, he apologized, I just...” There was a small thunk as you leaned your head backwards against the drywall. “I dunno, clearly I can't stop thinking about it.”

“You're not clingy, bug. You're sweet and attentive and he's–” He's an idiot if he doesn't think that. He couldn’t say that, could he? God, he was too sick to be thinking this hard. “He's probably so mad at himself for saying it.” He finished. Why was he defending this asshole?

”You're probably right. I just...what if he was right?“

”He wasn't.“ Matt snarled, deflating as your touch reminded him of your fragile emotional state. ”I mean, hell, if you're clingy that would make me a parasite.“

Tutting in disapproval, you nestled closer to him.

Chuckling morosely, Matt continued. ”Fuck, bug, I mean–when you left for class, I almost lost it.“

”Aw, Matt, you should've called me.“ He could hear your brow folding in concern.

”It's fine, I mean, I've done this alone for 10 years, I don't know why it was so hard all of a sudden.“ Matt scoffed, trying not to dwell on how weak he felt for admitting that.

”Well that's probably why, isn't it? This is the first time in 10 years you've surrounded yourself with your people, trouble. Once you've found them, it's hard to let them go.“ Squeezing his hand, your lips twitched up. ”Especially when you're not at your best.“

Nodding in agreement, Matt sighed. “Sometimes, I can hear the voice of my old mentor. Telling me not to trust people, not to get attached. And, when you two aren't here, it's harder to ignore that voice, to remind myself that it's ok to...to not want to be alone.”

“Of course that's ok, bubs. No one wants to be alone, not even your asshole of a mentor.“ Matt laughed at the anger in your tone. ”I know it doesn't make up for the fact that I left, but I brought you my notes so you won't fail?“

Smiling, Matt rubbed his face into your shoulder. ”Of course you did.”

“What?” You giggled, admiring his sleepy grin.

“Nothing, bug. You're just good at this. Taking care of people.” Burying his face in your neck as your arms wrapped around him, he whispered, “I'm so happy I met you.”

“I'm happy I met you too, Matty. Wanna listen to the book as you fall asleep?”

“I'm not gonna fall asleep.” He argued, his words muffled by your shirt.

“Sure, Matty.” You adjusted so that you were properly holding him up, your hand once again taking up residence in his soft hair. The narrator began reading the book's publication details and you settled in, tipping your head until it rested against Matt’s. 

Taglist: @eugene-emt-roe@abbyhaslongshorts@mrs-bellingham@abucketofweird@yeonalie@jadeunstablexx@spider-murdock@0ctober-writes@danzer8705@mattmurdockstateofmind

[writeawaythepain]

Oblivious

Tango Tek x (gn!reader)

Anybody else really miss watching Tango’s videos when he left? 

Word count: 2.4 k

Prompts:

“I would be nervous too in your shoes. But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.”

Doing each other's hair.

Summary:

You convince Tango to finally take a break from his new big redstone project by inviting him over for a sleepover. You start to wonder if it was even a good idea, as your normal teasing back-and-forth banter starts to hit a little too close to home when you realize your crush for the redstoner was just getting worse…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“I would be nervous too, in your shoes,” I try to reassure him with a smile. “ But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.” You look directly into his fiery red eyes.

“….Aaaa- you’re just making me more stressed!!” Tango yells out dipping the nail polish brush back into the bottle. “Why am I even so stressed?!” 

“Cause I made your nails fabulous, and if you mess mine up I’ll never forgive you.” You answer simply, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“You did do my nails fabulously, you did…but I think I’m actually going to go for a more abstract look-'' He flashes you a mischievous smile as he slowly lowers the brush closer to your finger, and nowhere near where your actual nail was. You instantly pull away, gasping in mock offense.

“Don’t you dare-“ You start.

“Wha -at, do you not trust me?!” He says snickering. You eye him suspiciously.

”Not when you say things like that!”

Your plan for making sure Tango took a break from his new big project was going well so far. Sure you felt a little childish when bringing up the idea of a sleepover, but Tango’s enthusiasm dashed most of your concerns instantly…Most, that is, except for your growing concern that you may love your friend in more ways than just platonic….

You usually always push those feelings to the back burner, not wanting to ruin the thing you two already had going, but seeing the way he stuck out his tongue in concentration while still managing to get polish all over your finger wasn’t helping. ”How are you so bad at this?“ You tease, smiling.

”I- you shush! I’m trying, ok! You keep squirming-“ He says trying to readjust his positioning by grabbing and tilting your hand slightly.

”I’m not squirming! I’m laughing. At you.” You say still giggling. He huffs, and eventually decides that his technique wasn’t working, and decides to try a new one. He gets up from his cross-legged position on the floor, pulling his knees up and toward himself to form a resting place for your wrist. His grip on your hand tightens a little as he yanks you closer.

”Just shut up and come here-” The rest of your body follows your hand, and you scooch closer to him, shutting up. Tango doesn’t even seem to notice your close proximity, too focused on trying to paint your nails neatly. After a few more beats of flustered (on your part) silence, he looks up beaming. “There, first hand done!” 

You blink, your brain still catching up, before you inspect his work. The first finger he did was quite bad- unevenly painted and there was some color accidentally splotched onto your skin. But each nail got progressively better, and all in all… “Well- I’ve had worse. And I like the color!” He’d picked a bright red for you, a shade that reminded you of his bright eyes. You picked your favorite color for his nails, and you now wonder if he did the same.

”Ok- ok! See- I’m learning!” He says before holding out his hand again, “other one?”

You give him your other hand, and are forced to look at his adorably concentrated face again as he paints your other nails. You start talking to distract yourself. “So I assume this is your first time ever doing this?”

”Zed’s painted my nails before- but it was with some kinda poison for one of his science-y experiment-o thingies.” If he had been talking about anyone else you might’ve questioned it, but it was Zedaph, so you weren’t really even surprised. “I’ve never painted someone else’s before- no.” He responds not looking up, still entirely focused.

”Really, I couldn’t tell?” You say sarcasm dripping from your voice as you smile. He looks up at you for a second just to roll his eyes.

“I thought I told you to shush-“ He says, almost scolding if it wasn’t for the smile on his face. He rolls his shoulders, and it seems like being hunched over in concentration was starting to make him sore, so he instead leans back a little, pulling you even closer, and holds your forearm between his knees. Ok- this was getting ridiculous, there was no way your face wasn’t getting a bit red now. 

“Do you want me to just detach my hand and give it to you?” You laugh trying to keep your composure.

”No- “ He laughs, seemingly oblivious to your suffering. “-I like you just as you are, all in one piece thanks.” You chuckle, looking anywhere but directly at him until he finally finishes, and releases your hand. ”Done! Now don’t you look absolutely fanta-bulous! The color really suits you-“ He cheers, sending you a wink that makes you wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

The second hand looks even better than the first, and if you were being honest, it really warmed your heart that he tried so hard. “It does look great, the red makes me feel like a model.” You pose in a silly vogue showing off your nails as if in a commercial, and it succeeds in making Tango laugh. He tries a pose of his own, showing off his nails in front of his face and pursing his lips. He looks at you, and winks. You burst out laughing, and he joins in as you both have goofy smiles on your face. When your laughing finally calms down, Tango looks up at you.

”So, what else do you usually do at sleepovers?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

”Well…me and my friends would sometimes play truth or dare, or do each other's hair-“ Tango’s eyes light up.

“Why not both! Though, I don’t think there’s much you can do with this mop on my head-“ He responds pointing at his spikey blonde hair, “I kinda just have to let it do what it wants.”

You squint at it, sizing up his hairdo like it was a challenge. “I think I can figure something out…”

”Go ahead! Be my guest.” He says sitting up and taking off the goggles he had on. 

You get up to grab some supplies from the bathroom, before returning and kneeling down behind him, trying to find a longer chunk of hair that you can work with. Satisfied with finding a section near his pointy ears, you start braiding. “Right, you go first. Truth or dare?”

”Well, I can’t really move- so truth? I did not think this through, huh?” He chuckles, and you pull on his hair slightly to keep him still.

”Stop moving!” You say, laughing as well. You think for a second, trying to come up with a good question. “Ok…When you first met me, what was your first impression of me?”

Tango smiles, and flushes slightly as he thinks back on the moment, remembering it fondly. You're too focused to notice. “Well- If I’m being a hundred percent honest. I just thought you looked really cool! But in kinda a like- a slightly intimidating way, you know?” You spare him an odd look.

”Really?” You ask, finishing up the first little braid before gently tilting his head the other way to do the same thing on the other side.

”Yea! Then, I got to know you and realized you're just a big ole softy!” He says chuckling. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but you don’t stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

”Yea, yea, whatever.” You chuckle, focusing back on his hair.

”Your turn now, truth or dare?” Tango asks.

“Truth, I’m still trying to finish this braid-“ He takes a moment to respond, giving you just enough time to finish the second braid, so you tie it to the end of the first one, forming a sort of halo around the back of his head.

”What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” He asks. One instantly pops to mind, but you shake your head, dismissing it instantly.

”Actually, nevermind, I'm finished. I switch to my choice to dare.” Tango turns around to face you, almost pouting.

”Wha- You can’t do that!”

”Yes I can, and look!” You pull out a hand mirror you brought and show him what you’ve done to his hair, his frown instantly turns into an excited smile.

”Woah- it’s so cute!” He says, turning his head a little to inspect the braids, grinning. 

”You are! And your hair looks nice too.” You say shooting him wink, he laughs but you swear you saw his face get a little pink. He looks off to the side like he’s thinking, and then turns back to you with a toothy smirk.

”Alright, I thought of a dare. Give me your absolutely worst pick up line. Just- the most cheesy, corny, awful pick up line ever.” Your eyebrow raises a little at his request, and you take a moment to think.

”Worst pick up line huh…? That’s hard cause we both know how amazing I am at flirting.” You say sarcastically, just buying yourself some time to think of something clever.

Tango laughs, “Yep, uh huh. Totally. You're like, the flirting master.” He teases back.

Finally a really stupid one comes to mind, “Tango, are you a campfire? Because you’re hot and I totally want s’more-“ You say, barely able to get it out without laughing.

Tango stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face reddens and he bursts out laughing. “That- that’s actually terrible.”

“Hey you asked! I’m starting to think you just like the idea of me flirting with you.” You joke, turning your back to him so he could do your hair. Instead, he decides to lean forward and whisper directly into your ear.

“Maybe I do~” He pulls back and starts laughing, but you're frozen. Your face feels flushed and you try to calm your racing heart. You keep reminding yourself that it was all just a joke, that you needed to calm down or you’d risk making it weird. “Aw, too much?” He asks.

“I- just-” You stutter.

“Well too bad, it’s my payback for you not letting me work on my redstone stuff.” He says gently running his hands through your hair and…you were just now realizing how bad of an idea this all was. You were supposed to be getting over your feelings for the hot tempered blaze, but instead you’ve found yourself falling for him even more.

“Yea well, that’s what I get for being a good friend I guess.” You chuckle, but it comes out a bit strained. 

“Friends? Is that all we are?” Tango asks slightly…disappointed?

“Alright Tango enough with the jokes, you keep doing that I might actually fall for you.” You try to keep up your chipper and teasing tone, but your voice wavered towards the end.

Tango stops playing with your hair, and moves in front of you again. He seems nervous, and looks down at his hands a lot. You don’t dare hope, you don’t let yourself think anything, too scared to lose the friendship that you two had, no matter how much you cared for him.

“Maybe…uhh…maybe I might’ve actually been the one, that has done the falling…for…you.” He ends it with a dry chuckle, wringing his hands and struggling to keep eye contact. When you don’t respond right away, he finally looks at you. You search his eyes, searching for any sign that this was all some sort of weird bit.

“Are- are you being for real…or…” You finally ask, still not sure.

“Uh…yea? I mean…I thought I was making it obvious and all but I guess...” For some reason you feel tears well up in your eyes. “...Ah! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” You interrupt him, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“No! No it’s fine I’m just- I’m glad! I promise!” You reassure him, a huge smile spreading across your lips. His eyes are still wide with concern, and slight confusion.

“Wait so- I’m confused. Do you also…?” You bob your head up and down, laughing a bit as you try to regain your composure after the roller coaster of emotions that had been the past few minutes.

“Yes, Tango. Obviously, I’ve fallen for you too.” You finally respond, he grins and grabs both your hands in his.

“Well, obviously- neither of us are really good at reading the obvious-” He snickers, gently stroking your hand with his thumb. 

You giggle, “Wow, and now someone has spilled about their crush, we’ve checked, like, all the sleepover boxes but-”

“-but sleeping?” Tango asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“No? No one sleeps at sleepovers, come on dude-” You respond and he laughs, “the only thing we haven’t done is watch a movie!”

“Hey well I’m not complaining. As long as I get to do your hair first, since it was um- interrupted.” He smiles, blushing slightly.

“Why not both!” You say mirroring his tone from earlier.

~ ~ ~

This time when he runs his fingers through your hair, you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You're seated on the ground, while Tango sits on the couch. You're situated between both his legs, as he tries, undos, and retries to braid your hair. You realize you don’t really mind if he ever gets it right, you're just glad to finally relax with the knowledge that he loved being near you just as much as you loved being near him.

”Ok…I’m done…I think?” You hear Tango’s voice from behind you. You haven’t really been paying attention to the movie much, instead just enjoying the redstoner's company, so you lean over and grab the hand mirror.

”Aww, I love it.” You giggle a little,  “But���maybe don’t quit your day job, hot stuff.” You tilt your head up to see his reaction, and he just rolls his eyes and snickers before leaning down and closer to your face.

”Is it good enough to get a little somethin’ at least? For trying?” He smirks, leaning just a little closer. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you smile and sit up, turning slightly, before gently grabbing his collar, and meeting him in the middle. And you swear, when his lips hit yours, you feel fireworks.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[trash-king18]

m pt. 10

this fic is far from over because i have a problem and am literally obsessed with miggy

cw: slightly suggestive

————

his eyes are closed but you can tell if you move too much you’ll wake him up.

his arm is draped over you so you do your best to carefully slip out from under him without him sensing and you’re 3 steps from the door before you hear him

“adonde vas?”

where are you going

damn it

“to get ready, we have work”

“what about breakfast”

“i don’t know grab a bagel or something from the food court, we’re already gonna be late”

he sounds half asleep still, he still hasn’t even opened his eyes

“a bagel? i don’t want a bagel”

“then get something else”

“no i don’t want that” he mumbles sleepily

you just shake your head in disbelief and start to go towards the door again

“regresar”

come back

“no get up we have to get ready”

you reach for the door but you feel something land on your back

“o’hará don’t you dare”

too late. he pulls you back into bed with a web and catches you before promptly.. rolling on top of you.

“see? mejor”

better

“get. off of me”

he still hasn’t even bothered to open his eyes he just cages you in with his body weight. he kept surprising you lately but you didn’t expect the needy cuddly thing. you thought he might be on drugs. you were honestly surprised he was still there when you woke up. also surprised you hadn’t woke up and snuck out yourself

“miguel lo juro por Dios- you’re making me late”

i swear to god

“you can be late, boss says it’s ok”

“Miguel!”

you sounded mad now, he opened his eyes and looked at you trapped underneath him

“get off! now.”

he groans and rolls off onto his back and you get up before finishing getting ready. he doesn’t move just remains laying on your bed listening to you storm around your apartment. you come back in fully dressed ready to go.

“are you gonna get up?”

“i have to go home first i’ll be at work soon”

“well get moving estupido you’re not staying here”

“why are you in such a rush”

“uh because we’re late”

“you’re leaving without breakfast?”

“ay coño what is with you and food”

“..i’m hungry.”

“what so we’d just get breakfast, together .. show up to work, together? late! act like this is completely normal”

he sits up “well i didn’t think-“

“no you didn’t”

“mi cariño i can see that you’re frustrated-“

“no no no. no cariño right now. none of that. right now we are going to work ~separately~. and we are going to do our work, like normal, and we are going to fight in front of everybody, like normal, and just act normal”

“i thought you said you didn’t want to act like this was normal”

“you-“

“ay dios ok ok”

he hops up and follows you into the living room.

“well act normal, i’ll make sure i yell at you extra”

“not an excuse for you to yell at me for no reason”

“mamacita what do you want from me here”

you turn around and give him a warning look.

“fine. i will just.. be your boss today”

you sigh “thank you”

“but i don’t have to be your boss right now” he says before kissing you on the cheek before you have a chance to stop him and then dashing out to the terrace to avoid being scolded again.

“hasta luego”

“will you-“

but he’s already gone swinging away.

you get to the HQ 45 minutes late, which isn’t awful but unusual for you.

Gwen was sitting in there waiting for you while talking to Pavitr Hobie and Peter B.. and of course Mayday

“Hey Gwen sorry got a late start this morning”

you were helping her with a chem project for school and you frequently tutored many of the younger spider people in science since their grades tended to slip after you know.. becoming super heroes.

“All good, you okay?”

“Fine kiddo, gracias… ~Peter~ you know what i’ve said about bringing may into the lab”

“Yeah sorry Y/N i just.. you know can’t leave her out of my sight for a minute”

May reaches out for you and you grab her before she gets bored and decides to climb on the walls and knock stuff over.

“it’s ok, just make sure you.. keep her close”

“Alright let’s see what you’ve got so far”

the boys escort themselves out taking May with them while you and Gwen work on her project for almost an hour.

“Hey y/n can i ask you something?”

“is this about miles..”

“what no… yes”

“look i know what he asked of you is hard, but it’s for his own good. I haven’t met morales, but he has a choice to make and knowing will only make it harder”

“i know.. i just.. i miss him”

you look at her she seems so defeated, after everything she’s lost you can’t help but try and find a way to help her.

“ya know.. i’m sure they wouldn’t notice if you popped in just to check on him. as long as you promise to hold the universe together while you do”

“no ~he’d~ find out”

“i’m not gonna tell him niña, so as long as you play it smart while you’re there, and don’t talk to him”

“i don’t know.. maybe”

“of course officially i’m telling you to follow orders, you know for the good of the multiverse and all that.”

“right of course”

the boys come back in to come drag gwen to a training session. but they stay for a minute before leaving

Hobie “so did you ask her”

Pavitr hits his arm but he just shrugs

“Yeah i did”

they turn to you

“Hey. like i said officially i’m not saying anything but… play it smart, play it safe, and i tell him nothing”

“Tell who nothing?

Suddenly he’s in the doorway.

Peter B “shit”

gwen slaps his arm.

he looks at peter with distaste but instead of yelling at any of them or throwing them out.

“Don’t you have training sessions to get to”

“uh yeah right away”

“sorry boss”

Hobie “nah mate im good”

everyone turns to him, even for hobie who seemed to relish in pissing him off more than you did, you hated when he yelled at the kids. i mean really they were teenagers you got second hand embarrassment

“My fault boss, me and gwen were finishing a school project she was working on and i asked the boys to let her practice presenting”

He raises his brow at you.

Gwen “right”

Pavitr “yes just doing science things in here”

Hobie “i just don’t like being on time”

you shoot him a look, and the other two pushed him out the doors into the hall.

Peters still in there, looking between you two, you wait for Miguel to yell at him but he just opens the door again and gestures for him to leave.

—in the hall—

Peter B: is it just me.. or is he kind of sort of maybe in a little bit of good mood.. for him

Pavitr nods and looks at hobie

Gwen: less grumpy than i’ve ever seen him. He hasn’t thrown anything at anyone all day.

the boys chuckle

they turn to them “what?”

“can you guys not see what’s clearly happened”

Gwen “they’re gonna fight”

Pavitr “no— well yeah they’re always fighting but something.. changed” he quirks a brow at hobie

gwen mouths a silent O and Pavitr nods confirming

they burst out laughing

Peter B: “what? what happened”

Hobie “man’s got laid”

“hu- oh- OHHHH”

they just laugh more

“guess i owe you twenty bucks” pavitr says to peter

gwen: “wha- you guys bet on it”

pavitr “hell yeah we did, we’ve been waiting for this for years”

peter “you can pay it off by babysitting may day this weekend, apparently most parents don’t bring their kids to date night”

pavitr “no hell no here take my money”

—back in the lab—

“tutoring?”

“are you asking as my boss”

he sighs “yes.”

“then yes sir i help the younger recruits out with assignments often to help them manage their responsibilities and better keep their head clear for their work here.”

“good. that’s good”

“anything else? you’re not due for another infusion for a few days”

“that’s all you have to say”

“normal. remember?”

“well yeah but.. no one’s listening”

“you don’t know that. if they don’t hear shouting soon they’ll start to think somethings up”

he starts to get exasperated “you said don’t yell at you for no reason”

“yes, but i could always yell at you”

his voice is flat “i’ll pass”

“will you at least walk out the door looking angry”

“shouldn’t be hard”

“are you mad now?”

“no.”

“mentiroso”

liar

“~i’m not~.. mad.” he sighs “i just thought…”

“thought what?” you don’t even look up you’re just focused on the work in front of you.

“never mind.”

and he ends up genuinely storming out.

Gwen “there goes the good mood”

“you three training NOW”

“yikes”

later that night you were trying not to fall asleep at your bench as you worked on the new injection formula. you were getting so close but something just wasn’t right.

you hear the frosted glass doors slide open faintly but you’re barely paying attention.

y/n… y/n!

can you hear me.

“huh.. yeah yeah”

“what are you still doing here it’s 11 pm”

“working”

“.. you’re barely awake”

“i’m fine. go away i need to focus”

you always got like this, ever since you were a kid, you’d hyper focus and work for hours sometimes days on end without taking a break forgetting to take care of yourself.

you’d been in the same position since before lunch without moving, just running the serum slightly different every time

“you need to go home”

“deja de molestarme i will when i’m done”

stop bothering me

“if i let you stay will you be done soon”

“ay si”

“how soon”

“just a couple.. hours maybe tomorrow morning”

“yeah nope”

you go to protest but he’s already dragging you away from your work

“hey no no no just let me do this one—“

“no. you’re done i’m taking you home now”

he dragging you from the lab

“fine fine i will go home i promise just let me turn everything off”

he looks at you for a moment before he finally lets you go and of course you immediately run back in and try to close the door in his face and go back to working but he pulls them back open and grabs you before you can.

“hey! let go”

“then cooperate”

“i will”

“no you won’t, let’s go”

he throws you over his shoulder, much less gently than he had the first time he did it.

he turns all the computers off and puts the vials you had out back in the fridge/incubator while you hang trying to squirm out of his grip.

“miguel bájame ahora mismo así que ayúdame dios te dispararé en el pie”

put me down right now or so help me god i will shoot you in the foot.

“mi cariño if you shoot me i guarantee you will just made me more mad”

“stop calling me that!”

you hear him mutter to himself

“i’ll call you whatever i want”

before he reaches up and pulls the gun from its holster on your hip. he checks the safety’s on but he puts it back. you couldn’t grab it from this angle even if you wanted to.

you shout a string of things you would never dare repeat in front of your nephews in english and in spanish. there’s no spider people left as far as you can tell. he walks into the elevator with you still banging onto his back with your fists, but instead of pushing down he pressed the up button.

“my car is downstairs genius”

“we’re not taking your car”

the door dings open and he steps out onto the roof.

“oh no.. oh hell no you are not swinging me anywhere o’hara do you hear me?”

“not up to you”

he sets you down for a second to put his mask back on.

he grabs your waist with his lasso since you immediately headed back for the elevator and pulls you back

“do that one more time o hara”

“miguel”

“not sure what point you’re trying to prove but this is not helping your case”

“not proving anything sweetheart just being a gentleman, taking you home”

“you call this being a gentleman”

“i call this.. taking you home”

“god you are so infuriating do you know that”

but he doesn’t answer he just picks you up again by the waist and shoots a web onto the nearest rooftop.

“do not do it. i’m serious”

too late. he jumps and you’re swinging from rooftop to rooftop, suddenly instead of fighting your way out of his arms you’re clinging to him with your head buried in his shoulder.

you don’t look up until you feel him land on a solid surface.

he puts you down and you mutter to yourself

“god i always hated that”

he’s confused because he doesn’t remember when you would’ve had to but he doesn’t say anything

you look up and you’re ~not~ at you’re apartment. you’re on a rooftop close enough that you can still see HQ in the distance.

“where are we”

“home”

“no my apartment is the other direction”

“never said your home”

he just starts walking to the stairwell.

“seriously?”

but he just opens the door gestures for you to walk in.

you look around and realize you’ve got no choice so you march past him.

“see? gentleman?”

“cállate”

you walk down into the hallway where his suite is. he picks you up out of the way, unnecessary, to unlock the door. and then holds it again for you to come in. you just stare at him refusing to move before he takes your hand to pull you in and shuts the door behind you.

“bathrooms down the hall on the left in case you wanna shower, i’m gonna go get changed”

you just keep standing there staring

“what?”

“what are you doing”

“getting ready for bed, uhm there’s clean towels in there already you can use the black ones”

you just scoff and turn towards the door

“where the hell are you going”

“home”

“how you gonna get there?”

“walk”

“no you’re not”

“yes i am”

“that’s not safe”

“i have a gun”

“i remember”

you go to unlock the door but he stops you

“o’hara i’m warning you, get out of my way”

“you gonna shoot me cariño?”

you sneer.

“i get you want to act professional at work but do you have to be so..”

“so?”

“impossible?”

“you’re not helping yourself.”

“it’s true”

“you can’t keep me here. that’s kidnapping”

“you’re an adult”

“not how that works”

“leave if you want, i’ll just follow you” he turns back around and heads toward what you assume is his room

“oh and when you turn on the water make sure you turn it all the way up first otherwise it won’t get hot”

and then he just closed the door and leaves you standing in his kitchen.

“son of a..”

you consider going home, you know he’s not bluffing, he’d probably just bring you back here anyway. but you end up in the bathroom showering, and when you get out you rinse your mouth with mouthwash since the jerk hadn’t even considered that you didn’t have anything here, including clothes. you dry off and wrap yourself tightly in the biggest towel you can find

you’re about to put your work clothes back on but you hear shuffling outside the door so you open it to find him right there, holding clean clothes out

but they weren’t yours.

“i’m not wearing your clothes.”

“feel free to stay naked, i won’t mind”

you grab them from his hand and close the door harshly in his smirking face again to get dressed. the shirt is huge on you and fits more like a dress and the only other thing.. is a pair of boxers.

they were clean but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. not that he could see them anyway.

so you opt for your own underwear and throw them in a pile with your clothes which you gather and stuff into your work bag.

you come out and he’s still right there. his eyes sweep down your body

“not one word”

“are you really still gonna act like this”

“you dragged me away from an important breakthrough and then basically made me a hostage in your apartment”

“you’re not a hostage i told you you can leave”

“so you can stalk me back to my place”

“..is it stalking if i’ve spent the night twice?”

you sneer at him and push past back into the kitchen.

“why did you bring me here”

“so i can keep an eye on you and sleep in my own bed. if i hadn’t you would’ve just snuck back to work anyway”

“why not just install cameras im surprised you haven’t already”

“that’s not fair”

“really? it’s not? because this whole thing is starting to go from annoyingly overprotective to controlling real quick”

“i’m sorry if you’d let actually take care of you i wouldn’t have to do this”

“that’s right blame your border line feral control issues on me.”

“i’m not blaming you!”

“it sure sounds like it.”

“Y/N!”

“what!”

he sighs harshly and then takes another breath “nothing.”

“nothing?”

“nothing. i brought you here so you wouldn’t overwork yourself and end up sleeping on the floor of your lab. as much as you all accuse me of just being a grump and needing an attitude adjustment or whatever; i have been trying to be restrained and keep my cool with you but i can’t do that if you keep turning everything into a fight because you don’t know how to talk to me like a grownup. i’m done yelling, i’m done fighting with you. it’s late. i’m going to get in bed. you can sleep out here i’ll get you sheets or.. in my room. or if you insist i will take you home, but i mean take you home you’re not walking in the dark by yourself. ok?”

you’re stunned. he had yelled at you countless times over the years, teased you, made fun of you, besides the day in the office recently it had never even come close to anything like this.

he sounded exhausted “will you please just say something”

you’re quiet for another beat.. but softly you finally say

“i’m hungry.”

“you’re— what?”

you ignore him and start opening cabinets. but there’s nothing besides ingredients. not a snack guy. so you open the fridge as he just stands in the hallway watching.

you look around until you finally see something you can just eat now. a container of strawberries. he must get his groceries in another dimension because no one was growing fresh fruit here.

you take them out and literally just start eating one after the other silently. he still hasn’t moved.

you look up at him finally

slightly defensive you offer up

“i didn’t eat lunch or dinner im starving”

he just walks over to you there’s no anger left in his face. he doesn’t say anything as you turn to him but he just gently places both hands on your hips and then picks you up.

“hey i’m eating tho-“

but he picks them up too with his free hand once he has you secured in his arm. wordlessly he carries you into his room and hands you the strawberries so he can open the door.

he walks in and places you down on the floor, puts the strawberries on the nightstand and pulls the covers back before immediately picking you up again to place you in bed.

“o’hara what-“

he walks out and comes back in a minute later with a glass of water and a plate. he leans down to set them down next to you. he stands back up and finally speaks.

“am i staying or going”

“what”

“am i staying in here or am i sleeping on the couch”

“i- that’s up to you it’s your-“

“i don’t want to fight about this in the morning, i want you to give me straight answer”

you stare up at him and realize he’s completely serious.

“i- i don’t know”

he sighs and turns for the door “don’t get food in my sheets please”

“o’hara— miguel wait”

he stops and turns his head.

“you can’t sleep on the couch in your own apartment”

“it’s fine i don’t mind, just try to sleep”

“~miguel~” you say slightly frustrated. he was really going to make you say it

“you can sleep in here”

he turns back around and pauses for a second before he finally moves to the other side of the bed and gets in. you both don’t say anything. he fidgets to take his watch off and set it on the nightstand and you self consciously pick up another strawberry. once you start you finish the whole container before you even realize.

there’s dim light from the hallway under the door and the moon in the window but other than that it’s dark and you both don’t speak.

he’s leaned back against the headboard next to you. his eyes are closed but you can tell he’s not sleeping

“im sorry”

“hmm?”

“im sorry.. for today. i get really focused on my work and i hate when i get interrupted, but i also forget to eat and i just.. get a little aggravated”

he’s silent and you sigh before laying down when he doesn’t answer

“are you telling me.. this is all because you were hangry”

“i don’t get hangry”

his one eye opens and he looks down at you now facing him looking quietly amused

“if i had known all this time all it took to get an apology out of you was to feed you that would’ve made my job a lot easier”

you lay back on the pillow trying to hide the slight smile “shut up”

but he shuts you up as he rolls over and places a bruising kiss on your lips. you kiss back but he pulls away.

“mm strawberry”

you laugh “knock it off” you cover your face with your hands.

but he gingerly pulls them away.

“no te escondas”

don’t hide

you can just make out his face with the little light in the room. after everything he’d lost you never considered that he would want anything more than.. relief again. but you started to think maybe you were wrong.

you both fell asleep soon after, at some point in the night he had pulled you fully on top of him. you don’t know if it was when he was awake or not when he did it.

you woke up and looked at the clock.

3 am.

you realized he was awake too tracing lazy spider web patterns on your back

you push up just enough to look at him, he looked half asleep and exhausted

“did you sleep at all”

“yeah yeah just woke up a little bit ago, sorry i didn’t mean to wake you” his voice is groggy, you knew he was lying

“it’s ok, you didn’t”

you go to roll off him and resume sleeping on your side but he stops you.

“y/n..”

you look at him

“que es?”

what is it

“i meant it”

“meant what”

“what i said earlier” he was starting to drift off “i don’t…” he yawns slightly “want to.. fig…”

and then he’s out.

you didn’t lay down again until your heartbeat returned to normal even though he was asleep now. you laid your head back down on his chest and tried to fall back asleep. it took a while but the rhythm of his breath and the warmth of his skin lulled you back to sleep eventually.

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @marcswife21 @l3laze @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl @simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman @dammittjanet

[cyberhopper]

Wet Floor Sign

Characters: Luigi, Daisy Genres/themes: Minor injuries, early friendship Also posted on AO3

--------

From the moment they first met, right in the middle of the Spring Tennis Tourney at Peach’s Castle, Luigi had known that Daisy wasn’t someone who often listened to reason. Her thoughts were like a wild river twisting and turning through an unexplored forest, every new idea like a splash of water hitting whatever unsuspecting person happened to be closest. As for the woman herself, he wasn’t sure whether “tornado” or “fireball” described her better.

Daisy was someone who did whatever she liked, and Stars forbid anyone try to stop her. Of course, this led her into trouble more often than not. Nothing serious ever came from her shenanigans - until one day, Luigi saw her slip and hurt herself because she chose to dash through a bathroom in wilful ignorance of the very noticeable wet floor sign.

She went over backwards and smacked her head on the cool tiles, and Luigi, who had been behind her at the time (it was a unisex bathroom, alright, he wasn’t a creep), only had time to suck in one sharp breath before panic set in.

He’d always hated having to be responsible in scary situations, preferring to let someone more suitable - like his brother or Princess Peach - take charge. His tendency to flail and flounder aside, he hated the idea of something going wrong because of his decisions. But when it came to Daisy, he wasn’t sure if he could consider her the responsible one between them.

And there hadn’t been anyone else in the room at the time.

He waited all of five seconds, desperately hoping that someone would materialise out of nowhere and take charge, before his instincts began to push him forwards. Daisy might have a head injury; she wasn’t moving; she could be unconscious; if he didn’t act now she might--

His knees hit the floor and his hand carefully slipped beneath her head, both to cushion it and to check for open wounds. Auburn hair, damp with sweat, caressed his fingers. He found himself idly wishing that he wasn’t wearing gloves.

Her eyes fluttered open, but didn’t seem entirely focused. They aimlessly wandered the ceiling for a moment before forcing themselves to settle on Luigi’s face with what looked like obvious difficulty.

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t move,” he said - not because she’d tried to but because he knew the idea would enter her mind soon enough.

“Weegee?” He was relieved to hear her voice sounding normal - if a little dazed - but more relieved to hear the familiar nickname falling from her lips. She recognised him. Good sign.

“Don’t move,” he repeated. “You just, ah, fell and hit your head. I need to call for the medics.”

Her head rolled in a feeble imitation of a nod, pushing against his hand. He wondered if she was in pain. “Yeah, OK. I’ll just... stay here, I guess...”

Despite not wanting to leave her, Luigi propelled his wobbly legs into action, got outside, and managed to wave down a group of Toad medics within five minutes. He dithered in the doorway like a spare part while they clustered around Daisy and piled her with questions (“Do you know what day it is?”, “Do you remember what happened?”); to his relief, she was able to answer all of them with only a moment’s hesitation. The Toads put her on a stretcher and took her to the hospital anyway, despite her insistence that she was fine.

“Head injuries should be taken seriously, Miss!” one young Toad squawked. “You might have... internal bleeding!!”

The next day, Luigi was sitting at the edge of one of the tennis courts, watching the sky fill with clouds and wondering if today’s matches would even be able to go ahead, when he saw a familiar yellow and orange shape approaching out of the corner of his eye.

“Weeegeeee!”

Compared to the last time he’d heard that word, it was spoken in a tone of utter confidence. He instinctively got to his feet (was it rude to stay sitting while a princess addressed you?) and was promptly pulled into a hug vigorous enough to be considered a form of attack.

“Uh, hi, Daisy...” he said meekly. It came out muffled because his mouth was being pressed against her upper chest. He tried very, very hard not to think about this.

She pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, but her hands remained firm upon his shoulders. He had never seen her grin so widely, and that was saying a lot.

“Thanks!”

“...What for?”

“For helping me out, obviously! I remember everything that happened. I slipped and fell in the bathroom, and you were the only one there, and you got the medics for me!”

“Oh. Well... you’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me. Any decent person would have done it.”

“Yeah, but not everyone is decent,” she said, nodding wisely. “So thank you for being a decent person, Luigi.”

And that was pretty much where the conversation ended, because right at that moment, people started showing up for the tennis matches. For the rest of the day, Luigi’s interactions with Daisy consisted mostly of her hitting balls at him as hard as humanly possible while he flinched and let them fly by unchallenged. His doubles partner, Birdo, gave him a lot of peeved looks that day. But Luigi didn’t even care, because he had Daisy’s praise playing on repeat in his brain.

They had never exactly been friends before, but after that incident, Daisy never let him believe they were anything else.

[lockandkeyhyena]

ok!! all time favourite mlp fic recs GO!!

I’m limiting myself to one fic per author for this list or else it’d just be filled with mushroompone and monochromatic fics haha

anyway if you guys want specific types of fic recs, shoot me an ask!! this list is based on my personal taste which tends to lean darker/dramatic/emotional/tragic.

now, these are just the ones i have reread relatively recently and as such can give adequate descriptions of, as well as me not being a professional reviewer by any means, so you’re not going to be getting any deep analysis, i honestly just want these fics to get more attention.

side note, you’ll have to have mature content enabled for some of these fics due to darker and more explicit themes seen in some of them.

Threshold

As the rest of her friends found happiness and fulfillment, Rarity was left behind. Now, trapped in a dead-end relationship, she can feel herself slipping away in more ways than one. The return of her dear friend Rainbow Dash might mean salvation, but as the world crumbles around them the girls begin to question their place in time and in each other's lives.

CW - Abuse/A Central Abusive Relationship, Self Harm, Profanity, Narcotics, Violence, Death

Look, if you’ve followed me for any significant amount of time, you’ll know how much I adore this fic. It’s one of my all time favourite mlp fics, if not my absolute favourite. The way it explores themes of abuse and something being not quite right just absolutely makes me adore it. Having it focus on one of my favourite ships is also just a cherry on top. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot because experiencing it firsthand is an amazing experience, so I’ll just say if you like ~liminal space~ vibes, you should give it a read. I will warn you again, it is an extremely intense read and delves into themes of abusive relationships, depression and things along those lines but if you feel you’re in the headspace for it? It honestly and truly changed the way I read all fiction. I have to write up a proper thought-out review of it sometime. In fact, it’s just about time for my yearly reread…

Administrative Angel

Principal Celestia always has wings in her dreams. They got her into trouble, once. She let herself believe that they meant she was an angel. Then she grew up, and learned some hard lessons about what being an angel really required. Now six magical girls have just fought a demon in front of her school. And her phantom wings are itching. Her life is turning upside down ... and she hasn't even heard about Equestria yet.

What can I say about this fic except the fact that if you have to only read one Equestria Girls fic, let it be this one. The way it explores Celestia’s character and understands her better than almost any other fanfic I’ve read has done is phenomenal. It’s a short read, so you can get through it in an hour or so and wow. As a certified Celestia lover I give this fic my stamp of approval.

Cinéma Vérité

In the shadow of Nightmare Moon's rule, the ponies of Equestria live in uneasy peace. Vinyl Scratch refuses to accept the new status quo, making seditious films in secret out of a hidden basement below the streets of Manehattan. Octavia, meanwhile, busies herself with running a successful nightclub, finding audiences for illicit screenings of Vinyl's films, and preparing for the day when they draw the wrong kind of attention. Vinyl might be willing to die for her art, but Octavia refuses to let that happen.

Do you like Vinyltavia? Do you like Nightmare Moon Wins aus? Do you like intruige, drama and tension? Then I am begging you to read this fic. Please its so good. Plus it has one of my favourite Photo Finish characterisations out there.

A Life Lived In Hundreds

It was a normal life, until Twilight Sparkle fell out of time and into her lap. Then things started getting complicated. 100 words. Fragments of a life. Each year, every year: as the years march forward, unstoppable, unceasing, Granny Smith wonders what it all adds up to.

A ship and an experimental format that i never expected to see by themselves, much less paired together, but somehow making it work. The short, punchy chapters really submerge you in the story and the constraints of the word limit contribute to some fantastic prose.

The Enchanted Library

Everypony enjoys myths and ponytales, even if they know such things aren't real. Alicorns fighting against a spirit of chaos? An ancient princess trapped in a library under a tree, waiting to be found? Quite enchanting and fantastic tales yes, but nonetheless as fictional as Daring Do and other such stories. At least, that's what Rarity used to think. She doesn't anymore.

Come on, you guys knew this was coming. If you consider yourself a Raritwi fan you have to read this fic and it’s sequel/s. The way Monochromatic manages to write such gut-punch moments right next to the sweetest Raritwi fluff you’ve read in eons is just. Chefs kiss. I know it’s a big time sink but it is absolutely worth it.

Want more fic recs that I love just as much as these but haven’t read so recently? Shoot me an ask or check out my All Time Favourites List on fimfiction!

[likecastle]

ST Femslash Week - women’s wrongs

A quick ficlet for @strangerthingsfemslashweek, for the prompt “women’s wrongs,” which I basically interpreted as Nancy being a complete mess (I love that for her).

Content note for underage drinking, attempted drunk driving, and other dubious decisions made under the influence.

She can hear Robin’s footsteps over the drone of music from inside the house—the fast slap rubber on pavement catching up to her. She tries her key in the lock, but it won’t turn.

“Nancy—hey, Nance!” Robin’s voice is almost right behind her. “What’s the hurry?”

Nancy ignores her. That’s what she’s supposed to do, isn’t she? Just ignore the problem and it’ll go away. Like Nancy hasn’t been waiting and waiting and waiting. Everyone else seems to have no trouble forgetting. They can just dance and drink beer like the world didn’t end. She tries the key again, can’t even get it to budge.

“I mean, I’ll admit, the music sucks,” Robin says. She tries to make it sound like they’re just having a normal conversation, but she’s panting a little from dashing after her. “And so does the company—with a few notable exceptions.”

Nancy’s eyes focus on the jacket on the passenger’s seat, a green and white Hawkins Tigers letterman, and she finally realizes why her key won’t work. She looks up, trying to remember where she parked, and her head swims. She takes a step back, and Robin’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder, steadying her.

“Whoa, hey, are you OK?”

Nancy twists out of Robin’s grasp and stumbles in the direction of her car. It’s parked away from the crowd of partygoers, out of the way on a secluded side street. Some things never change.

“OK,” she hears Robin mutter behind her, “obviously not.”

This time, her key fits in the lock, and she slings herself into the driver’s seat, the momentum making her stomach lurch.

“Should you be driving?” Robin asks, catching up with her again.

“Why not?” Nancy knows she sounds petulant, knows Robin thinks she’s just some spoiled little rich girl making bad decisions.

“Uh,” Robin says.

“Why can’t I just do what I want?” Nancy feels like she might throw up. She leans on the steering wheel, head between her arms. “Why do I always wind up hurting someone?”

It’s like everything she wants winds up poisoning things somehow. Barb—Steve—now Jonathan, too. How many people are going to wind up collateral for her own desires?

“I’m pretty sure someone will definitely get hurt if you try to drive home right now,” Robin says.

“I just—” Nancy looks up at Robin, standing there with one hand on the driver’s side door, her hair deep bronze in the suburban dark. “I thought I’d feel better, when it was all over. I thought I wouldn’t feel like it was my fault anymore, or at least like I’d . . . made up for it, somehow.”

Robin’s expression is so unbearably soft it makes Nancy want to break something, but when she reaches down to brush a strand of Nancy’s hair out of her face, Nancy doesn’t pull away.

“Doesn’t it make you so angry sometimes?” Nancy says, turning her cheek against Robin’s palm. Robin’s skin is soft and warm and it makes Nancy want to close her eyes, so she does. “We did all of that and everything just went back to the way it was. Doesn’t it just make you want to scream?”

“Yeah,” Robin says, her hand sinking deeper into Nancy’s hair. “Sometimes it does.”

The drag of Robin’s fingers in her hair makes something flare in the pit of Nancy’s stomach, and, oh, this is a bad idea. It’s such a bad idea, but she wants it, wants it the way she wants to smash glass, sometimes, and she pulls Robin down on top of her across the station wagon’s long front seat, leaning back until the armrest digs into her and Robin’s weight is a single warm line.

“Nancy,” Robin begins, a question or a caution in her voice, but Nancy draws her in with a kiss, silencing her. Maybe this will be the time she gets what she wants without ruining it, Nancy thinks. Maybe this will be the thing that makes it better.

[littlemisssatanist]

Yeah… (Kamisato Ayato/Reader

I woke up a few days ago with a craving and wrote this in one sitting. It’s not finished. It has not been proof read because my beta-reader would have a conniption if she saw this (lesbians amiright).

Uhm.

Reader is gender neutral.

Not really smut.

Ayato is touch starved.

You reading this:

You sighed as you leaned back in your chair as the last of the flame spluttered out, leaving you in total darkness. Tossing the quill you were holding aside, you pushed back your chair.

Rain was pouring heavily outside. It was drizzling earlier, clouds grey and tired, but that was just regular Inazuman weather. Lightning thundered once, then twice. You grimace. The Shogun must be extra angry today.

It wouldn’t be such a problem normally. Normally, everyone living at the Kamisato Estate would be inside the manor by this time of night. The rest of the servants had already gone to bed.

So why were you still up?

You scowled, standing up to grab a matchbox from the tiny shelf attached to your dresser-desk. It was a mix of the two, really. You walk back to your chair, fumbling with the match and huffing to yourself when light filled the room again.

You scanned over the report you had been writing. Technically, this responsibility fell to the Head of House. Technically, the Head of House took care of all paperwork.

The scratching of the quill against parchment relaxed you slightly. It was a familiar sound, one that joined you at least once or twice a day. You didn’t mind doing part of the paperwork. It was part of your job description, as the right hand of Kamisato Ayato.

Paperwork was his responsibility, yes, but helping him was your responsibility.

You glanced outside the window again, sighing once more when the rain showed no sign of stopping.

And still Kamisato Ayato was nowhere to be found.

He had left the Estate in the morning, to go someplace he hadn’t told you, which was unusual in its own right. You knew everything about where he went and what he did. (A wonder that knowledge didn’t drive you insane sometimes. Kamisato Ayato had a tendency to be a bit unbearable sometimes).

But you had no clue where he was right now. Which was the reason for the tight and uneasy feeling in your chest. You play with the skin around your fingernails, getting irritated.

This was absolutely ridiculous.

A thud outside your room brought you out of your thoughts. You startle, looking towards the door. It’s handle turned with a creak, and you reached for the blade hiding beneath your skirt.

The door opened. Kamisato Ayato fell through. Speak of the fucking Devil. You must have done something terrible in your past laugh, because Celestia was laughing in your fucking face.

“My lord!” You gasped, watching as your employer stumbled across the room towards you. He was holding a hand to his abdomen, something red dripping down onto the floor. “What- what happened!”

“Close- close the door. Please.” Kamisato Ayato breathed out, collapsing. You lunged forward, attempting to cradle him in your arms, but Archons, he was heavy.

“Just. Just close to the door.”

You nodded, frightened, dashing to close it. Then you rushed back to him, unsure of what to do next.

“Take off my clothes.” Kamisato Ayato instructs you next, wincing as he tries to sit up.

You stare at him. He notices, raising a thin eyebrow.

“Could I just- what the fuck happened?”

Kamisato Ayato let’s out a breath, shifting slightly. “I went out.”

“You went out.” You said in a flat tone. “Without telling me? Or anybody, for that matter?”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, and his blue eyes looked at you with something like guilt in them. Your breath might have been taken away, but who can really say for sure. “I’ll let you know next time.”

You inhale sharply, glancing at his abdomen. “Never mind that now. Why are you bleeding?”

“Hm.” His voice definitely sounded a little less lifelike then. “Fight went wrong. Didn’t see it coming.”

“Ok. Ok.” You fling your hands around frantically, panic finally seeping in. “What do I do?”

“Take off my clothes.” Kamisato Ayato repeated. “Just the top parts. You can leave the pants on.”

“Yes. Uhm.”

You quickly set to work with untying the knots on his uniform. Why were there so many fucking layers? You cursed under your breath as you finally shrugged off the shoulders of the final kimono, revealing his smooth, pale, unblemished skin. You tried very hard not to think about the proximity, or what scandal might be started if someone were to walk in on you two that moment.

You held back a gasp at the sight of the bloody mess that was Kamisato Ayato’s stomach. It has been sliced open, blood still oozing from the wound.

“Rip apart some of the fabric.” He says in between short breaths, chest falling up and down. You watched the movement very carefully. “Wrap it around.”

You nodded, doing as he said so, glad that the ghastly wound was no longer visible.

“I think it might scar.” You mutter.

He lets out a laugh, immediately wincing.

“Let’s get you into the bed.” You say, wrapping your arms around his torso, feeling him tense.

“Are you alright?” You ask, worried, but Kamisato Ayato shakes his head and stands up on shaky legs. You shoot up after him, guiding him to your bed. He relaxes into it with an exhale.

“Do you need me to do anything else?”

He shakes his head again. His eyes were lidded now, as is he could barely keep them open.

“Are you hungry, my lord? I have some left over bread from dinner.”

He levels you with a stare, opening his mouth. You want to frown at him for expending too much energy but what he says next makes all thoughts fly out of you brain.

“Call me Ayato.”

You blink rapidly. The world might have ended. You wouldn’t know. Your heart was pounding too fast for you to hear anything, and your head was filled with that one sentence for you to think about anything.

“Hello?”

Your eyes slowly focused back on the scene in front of you. Ayato tilted his head to the side, focusing intently on you.

“Anybody in there?”

“Oh.” Your mouth seemed to be working again. “Oh.”

Or maybe not.

Ayato’s lips quirked up. He looked almost amused. Part of you wanted to feel annoyed at that. The bigger part of you was still trying to figure out what to do next.

“You’re red.” Ayato observed.

Your eyes snapped towards his crystal ones, and suddenly your mind cleared.

“Ayato.”

He no longer seemed amused. His face turned very serious. “Say that again.”

“Ayato.”

He shifted, hands coming to grip your biceps, pulling you to tower above you. The air around you shifted.

“Again.” He breathed.

“Ayato.”

“Again.”

“Ayato.”

“Again.”

And so it went. You must have said it at least a hundred times, whispering when your voice got hoarse. Every time you said his name, Ayato would shudder beneath you. Just the slightest of trembles. You could feel his skin underneath your fingers, hot where you touched him.

You slide your hands up to his hair, brushing out any knots. Your fingernails scratched against his nape, and Ayato let out a delicious sound.

He was breathing harder now, as you touched him everywhere. His bare shoulders, his strong back, his warm cheeks, his arms that were still tightly gripping yours.

Yeah that’s it.

Maybe if this gets 100 likes I’ll actually write the smut but writing straight people smut scares me so… don’t expect anything.

[sl-newsie]

Stop The Press (Spot Colon x Female Newsie) Chapter Thirty Eight: Bedridden

Hey! I know you are kinda done with ‘Stop The Press’ but I really like your writing and I was wondering if you could do a chapter about Spot getting sick and we have to take care of him? It’s just a question don’t feel like you have to say yes. But yeah I love your stuff! Carrying the banner! Sorry it took so long!

Series beginning: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/738276721033428992/stop-the-press-spot-colon-x-female-newsie?source=share

“God it’s hot out. How is it this hot?”

I pause in-between knitting a scarf to gape at my husband. He’s hot? In January?

“Go on and think that,” I tease and stand up slowly. 

It's been getting more of a challenge due to the growing baby. I’s had to wear more loose skoits instead of pants. Thankfully I’ve had lots of help from the Brooklyn newsies. Normally we’d be staying in our new apartment but Spot insisted that I have help while he’s out working.

Spot blocks me from the door. “Becca, you’s staying in today.”

“And why is that?” I ask cockily. “Just ‘cause I’s pregnant don’t mean I can’t get some fresh air.”

“It’s cold and icy outside. I ain’t let’n ya slip with a baby on the way.”

“You was just complaining ‘bout how you’re too hot!”

Spot starts to argue but is stopped by a sneeze. “Achoo!”

“Bless you. I won’t be out too long, just a quick walk-”

“Achoo!”

Bucky walks by and gives Spot a funny look. “Spot, you ok?”

I reach over and put a hand to his forehead. “Oh God, you’re burning up. Are ya sick?”

I shoulda noticed it. He looks terrible. Those blue eyes have lost their spark and have become hazy. I’s been so busy worry’n about the baby that I forgot about Spot’s health. And it looks like he did too.

The stubborn man moves his head away and brushes it off. “I ain’t sick, just tired- Whaddya do’n?”

I grab his hand and start drag’n him to our bedroom. “Bringing you upstairs. You’re sick.”

“But I-”

“Even the King-a Brooklyn is allowed a day off,” I clarify firmly. “Bed. Now.”

Spot rubs his tired eyes and feels a hand on my stomach. “What ‘bout the baby? And the little ones”

I place my own hand over his. “I can handle them by myself for a day. I’ll have Nellie help me. Right now you need to get bedda.”

He’s still not move’n. “Becca-”

“Sean Colon, get up those stairs right now or I will not sleep with you for a whole week.”

That gets him go’n. Spot freezes as if I just slapped him and then dashes up as fast as his sick body will carry him. I hear our door close and the sound of creaking mattress springs. Good. He listened.

“Ouch. I think you struck a nerve.”

I let out a heavy sigh and walk back to the kitchen. “I need to be tough on him, Bucky. You know how stubborn he is. And he’s gotten worse since my stomach’s grown bigger. I’m gonna make some soup for him. Do ya mind-?”

“Not at all,” the man answers quickly. “He’s in good hands. Nellie!” He calls down the hall. “We need some help.”

Nellie appears and points to the children’s room. “Story time?”

“Story time,” Bucky says.

I smile gratefully. “Thanks, guys.” 

Now to make Spot better. Since I’m gonna be a mother I’s been learning more recipes from Sarah. Her and little Sam have given me loads-a tips for motherhood. Not a week goes by without a letter from the Kellys. A few oddas keep in touch too. Race, Specs, Crutchy. Even Mush and his new fiancée Caroline.

What to make, what to make. Maybe he’ll like beef stew. I gather some vegetables and make quick work to clean and chop them, then throw them into a boil’n pot. Now for the meat. If Spot’s gonna get bedda he’s gonna need protein. Once I cook some in a skillet and add it to the mix it’s already been three hours. Time flies when you do chores while pregnant. 

Time to see if he’s still asleep. I scoop some stew into a bowl and slowly make my way upstairs. The lodge’n house has been quiet thanks to Nellie and the older boys is still out sell’n. I get to the door and open it a crack.

“Spot?”

“Huh?” he groans in a groggy voice.

“Ya hungry?”

“I’m starve’n,” he tries to joke but ends up cough’n. 

“What hurts?” He doesn’t answer so I give him a stern frown. “Stop being ‘all man’ and tell me what hurts.”

He grunts and brings a hand to his cheek. “My neck. My face.”

“And you feel weak, yeah? Like an aching feeling?”

“Yeah,” Spot groans.

“Here. Lemme see.” In the dark I reach out and gently feel Spot’s swollen face. “It might be the mumps. You’ll have to stay up here ‘til they’re gone so no one else catches it.”

Spot tries to jump away but is too weak. “But you’ll get sick too!”

“No I won’t,” I say calmingly and lower him back onto the mattress. “Already had ‘em when I was three. Lie down, Spotty. I’m gonna put a warm cloth on your neck. Be right back.”

I hurry back down as fast as my legs will allow. Once I’m downstairs I see more-a the newsies have returned.

“Listen, all-a youse!” I bark. “Spot is sick, and is contagious. No one is to go see him until I say so. Understand?”

“That bad, huh?” Bucky says.

Joey peers up the stairs. “Will he die? Ness told me about someone who got sick and died once.”

“No, no!” I assure him and pull him away. “Spot ain’t gonna die, Joey. Everyone pass the woid!”

I grab a rag and soak it in warm water. Or, lukewarm water. But it’s the best we got. Back upstairs I find Spot trying to cover himself with more blankets.

“HowmIcold?” He slurs. “Iwzjstwrm!”

Um… Is he saying he’s cold now? 

“That’s the fever,” I say and press the cloth to his cheeks. “You, Spot Colon, are taking an extended leave of absence. No working until I say so. That means no chores.”

“Awww,” Spot whines. “Beauty-”

“Don’t ‘Beauty’ me. Here. Eat something.”

I hold up the bowl-a stew and he digs in. Spot might be sick but at least he’s still got an appetite. Should I call for a doctor-?

“I gots a meet’n next week,” Spot murmurs distantly. 

“If you’re well enough.”

“Can’t miss it… ‘S a new job.”

My head jerks up. “Job? What job?”

Spot stops chew’n and takes a deep breath. “My new job. Becca… I gots a new job. A real job.”

Somehow I knew this was gonna happen eventually. Sell’n papes is no proper income for a family, especially with a child on the way. But after see’n how some jobs literally beat grown men down to skin ‘nd bones the thought makes me shutter.

“I’s second-hand to a dock manager,” Spot slurs as fatigue takes over him. “One day I’ll be promoted. See, Beauty? Told ya I’d provide…”

A dockworker? Thank the Lord! It's a job close by and not in a factory. And Spot luvs the dock. How have we been blessed with so much?

I caress his sore cheek and press a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t gotta prove anything, Sean. I’m so proud of you. But right now you gotta get some rest.”

I stand up but Spot holds out a weak hand. “Stay with me?”

What kind-a poison would I be if I decline? I take his hand and climb into the mess of blankets with my wonderful husband. He’s always keep’n me warm. ‘S ‘bout time I returned the favor.

[schizosupport]

This might be extremely niche topic but I find it incredibly funny that for me, when I’m having a tough psychosis day I’ll take my medication aid and then I’ll be like “it’s not really hitting I’ll take one more that’ll do it” and then five minutes later the first one starts working and I never learn to never take a second one (To be clear my doctor is ok with me taking a second one) but there seems to be an overlap between people who take drugs to get high and me who takes medication to feel normal and how we both decide to take more right before the desired effects take place. Like I’m going to be a little out of it for the rest of the day. And by out of it I mean more normal than an average joe lmao. Anyway your blog came up on my dash and I thought about you and wanted to say I hope you’re doing well and to maybe lighten the posts on your blog a bit cause they can get heavy topic wise

I had this ask sitting for so long lmao, sorry, but I read it and appreciated it a lot already when you sent it!

I think it's so classic honestly for all manner of short acting agents taken as needed. I think it's bc we all have a tendency to put off taking the drug until we're completely sure we need it. And by then we will be unwell to a degree where it's really hard to wait for the first pill to kick in and keep any track of time. And then one can also get scared that maybe the one just wasn't enough and oh god, don't wanna wait for the second one to kick in before any relief and better take it quick! Afterall we might now realize we should've taken the first pill quicker.

It's definitely a situation I can recognize, even with something like otc painkillers.

Can I ask out of curiosity what you've been prescribed as a psychosis aid? I'm thinking of whether there's something that could work for me in that way when needed.

And thank you for the wellwishes!! I'm doing ok on average I would say, though I'm under a lot of pressure.

I'm working an internship two days a week at a daily ware store. I'll be done in December, and then most likely I'll be approved for the flex job/partial disability scheme in my country. I'm very happy about that.

I hope you are well too!

[vash-the-trans-catboy]

Just One of Those Days

Summary: Virgil is having a rough day but Roman is there to comfort him

Taglist: @diamondwind99 @c1rcus-c0re @thatboiblastey @nightmare4thebroken2 @ivaryn0 (Let me know if you want to be added)

Word count: 1398

Ao3

TWs: Mental health, anxiety mentions

“Maybe he needs some space.” Patton took a sip from his decaf tea as he watched Roman frantically reach for his phone, again.

“I know Virgil pretty well. If he needed space he would have texted me, not ignored all my texts from the past 24 hours,” Roman let out a sigh of desperation, “I just need to know that he’s okay.”

‘Hey, Stormcloud’ Sent: 4:56 pm

‘How was your day?’ Sent: 7:06 pm

‘Do you wanna see the cutest kitten and puppy cuddling I found on insta?’ Sent: 9:43 pm

‘It’s getting pretty late. Have a good night my Stormy Prince. I know you’re probably already asleep, but if you see this please respond I’m worried’ Sent: 1:35 am

‘Morning Virge!’ Sent: 11:57 am

‘Are you alright? You usually answer your texts pretty quickly’ Sent: 2:39 pm

The first six texts went unread without a response but Roman was willing to attempt a 7th time.

‘It’s not like you not to answer for this long. I’m coming over to make sure you are alive. If you hear the door open in around 15 minutes that’s just me.’ Sent: 4:36 pm

Roman dashed to his bedroom and grabbed the first shoes he could find. The left one was a red sneaker with gold specks on the side and the right one was a maroon slip-on. There was no time to worry about matching shoes.

On his way to the key rack, he collided head-on with his roommate.

“Watch where you are going, kiddo!” Patton playfully rolled his eyes as Roman gathered his things. “Are you going to Virgil? I thought I told you he needs space.”

“If he needs space he can kick me out once I know that he is alive. Virgil is practically glued to his phone. There is something off about him not responding.” Roman gave Patton a quick half-side hug before rushing out the door.

Upbeat Disney songs blasted through Roman’s earbuds as he jogged to Virgil’s apartment. Normally it would take Roman 20 minutes to walk there but his adrenaline got him there in less than 10 minutes.

He glanced at the broken elevator before murmuring a curse under his breath. Seven floors straight up, this ought to be fun he thought.

By the third floor, he could feel his heart quickly beating. By the sixth, he was ready to give up. The journey up the last flight felt like it took years. He finally arrived on the dreaded top of the building, floor seven.

Roman took the spare key that Virgil gave him for emergencies and opened apartment 714.

He glanced around, “Virgil? It’s me, Roman.” Finding no one in the living, he checked Virgil’s bedroom. The door was open ajar. The tv stood frozen with a sign that read “Are you still watching?” Virgil was curled up in the middle of his queen-sized bed looking dreadfully awake.

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman’s voice had a hint of softness to it, “Are you alright?”

Virgil blankly stared at Roman, seeming completely disassociated.

“Can you hear me?” Roman moved slowly to the edge of the bed and sat on the corner, giving Virgil a lot of space.

Virgil’s eyes shifted slightly upwards towards Roman, a sign Virgil could hear him.

“Blink once if you can talk, twice for signing, or three times if you rather not do either.”

Virgil blinked twice. He shifted to free his hands from underneath him.

“Would you rather us both sign, or you’ll sign and I’ll talk?” Roman asked Virgil.

‘You speak. I sign’ Virgil signed back to Roman.

“Ok, that works.” Roman pointed to the bed, “Can I join you?”

A flash of desperation spread across his face as he signed ‘Please.’ ‘Don’t leave me alone right now.’

Roman climbed into the bed. He shifted Virgil to lie down with his head in his lap. “This alright?”

Virgil nodded yes.

He wrapped his arms gently around Virgil. Virgil nuzzled into his chest. For a second, a sense of calmness brushed over Virgil. He looked up at Roman, ‘You smell nice.’

Roman leaned down to kiss his boyfriend’s temple, “I’m glad you find it comforting.”

……….

Buzz buzz buzz.

Roman’s phoned vibrated on the coffee table. His screen lit up with a picture of him and Virgil on a date.

“Hi, Dark and Stormy.” Sounding as cheerful as ever Roman answered the phone.

Virgil’s tone was very somber, “We need to talk…”

Roman paused then stuttered into the phone, “A-are you br-breaking up with me?”

“No, but I need to tell you something.” Roman sighed in relief, “Can you come over as soon as possible.”

Roman hung up the phone and then ran to Virgil’s apartment. The working elevator dinged open as soon as he reached to lobby. After two minutes of uncomfortable small talk with strangers in the elevator, he knocked on the door.

Virgil peeped through the small opening on the door. Once he saw his boyfriend on the other side, Virgil opened the door and led Roman to the couch.

“Is everything alright?!?!?” Roman said in one gasp. He quickly checked over Virgil to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Virgil patted Roman’s arm, “Don’t worry I am fine.”

“Why did you call me here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, it just sounded very urgent.”

Virgil took a deep breath before taking Roman’s hands in his own. “You know how sometimes I’m unable to talk for periods at a time.”

Roman nodded his head yes, not sure where Virgil was going with this.

“I have selective mutism. I started when I was adopted by my parents at around 5 years old. They took me to a psychologist and they were told I have a pretty bad anxiety disorder, general and social. After a few years of speech therapy, I started to talk a few words at a time.” Roman could sense this was hard for Virgil to tell him so he gave Virgil’s hands a light squeeze. “My anxiety disorders are much more under control than when I was a kid but sometimes I still find it too difficult to talk. Luckily my adoptive parents were the best. They never pushed me to talk when I wasn’t ready. All three of us started to take sign language lessons. My parents figured this would be the best solution for when I am unable to talk.”

Roman pulled Virgil into a hug, “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this.”

“After talking to my therapist for a few years, I was finally ready to tell you. That’s why I urgently called you over here. I wanted to tell you before I chickened ou-"

Before Virgil could finish his sentence, Roman blurted out “Could you teach me sign language?”

Tears welled up in Virgil’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. Was that offensive?”

Virgil pulled Roman closer and sobbed on his shoulder, “No it’s just that except for my parents no one has ever been nice enough to learn an entirely new language for me.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Roman’s eyes sparkled with love.

“You’re the best,” Virgil whispered under his breath before leaning in to give Roman a soft but sweet kiss on the lips.

……..

“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” Roman asked Virgil.

Virgil shook his head no.

“I understand. It’s just one of those days. I promise you, it will get better.” After years of dating Virgil, Roman learned his favorite form of affection was butterfly kisses. Roman leaned down and brushed his nose against Virgil’s.

The despair in Virgil’s eyes went down a level.

“Is there anything else I could do to comfort you?”

‘Cuddles. A lot of cuddles, please.’ ‘You’re so warm’ Virgil signed to Roman.

“That I can do!” Roman adjusted both of them so he would be spooning Virgil, “Now get some rest. If you need anything and I mean absolutely anything, remember I’ll be right here.” He pulled the comforter over Virgil and himself.

Virgil hummed in contentment.

Roman brushed his fingers through Virgil’s hair in a soothing motion. After a few minutes, Virgil’s body relaxed and he fell deeply into well-needed sleep.

Not sure if Virgil could still hear him, he whispered in his sleeping boyfriend’s ear, “I love you.” Not very long after, Roman drifted off into a deep sleep.

[aerospectrum]

Unsure if I sent a response back sorry adhd brain is bad sometimes LOL but it’s been lovely talking to you too! I don’t have anyone to talk about the show with besides my mom who watches it with me but I still have Yellowstone brainrot. Again I’m a Beth girlie but it’s nice to talk to others in the fandom and discuss. I think the show is great because they’re all such victims of each other and the family dynamics are just horrifically toxic. Every relationship John has with his children is abusive and volatile in some degree. Branding Kayce because he disobeyed him. Pushing and punishing Jamie because he’s not who he wants him to be, sending him away to college when that’s not what he wanted. Beth is extremely loyal to him to her own detriment because I personally feel like she’s trying to make up for killing her mother and taking his wife away from him, but no matter how much she tries she won’t ever make that up in John’s eyes. Anyways, you have a good one 💕

Aaaahhh I have so many thoughts also the adhd brain is a mood for sure my dude! sorry it took me forever to get to this! I’ll put my stuff under a cut again only because I tend to ramble and I gotta save the dash sanity for others lol

ok first I wanna go back to Beth lmfao. god she has such depth to her and I feel like we’ve been cheated by T.Sher so badly. Her trauma is unreal and so unprocessed and so unexplored and it’s not faaaair. When it’s Christmas and she is terrified of what’s happening to her??? puberty and she’s terrified, my poor child, I felt so sad that that was such a scary moment for her and then she was already in pain too and her mom was just like “now I have to make sure you’ll survive this man’s mans world and make you ultra haaaard” that made me so sad because I feel like she already was trying so hard to survive as a child. then the flashback to her mothers death. Genuinely I still feel so much rage over it. She was clearly uncomfortable and did not want to be on this big animal that she wasn’t comfortable controlling and unsure of being on and her mom just idk completely disregarded her and basically told her “you’re shit outta luck man up” like girl what??? Your young daughter is feeling very unsafe on a dangerous animal, I get pushing your kids to face their fears but like why did it have to be a joke to East Jesus nowhere??? Then ITS NOT EVEN BETH’S FAULT, Evelyn’s horse spooks(it’s not even looking at Beth, Beth does nothing wrong and nothing at all to affect her horse) but yeah it spooks it’s fucking self and obviously crushes her but Beth is already weeping and scared and blaming herself and Kayce is so intune with the needs of everyone so he pleads for her to let him go get John and she LOCKS EYES WITH BETH AND BLAMES HER!!! straight up is like nah Beth’s the reason my horse spooked it’s her fault my horse crushed me she made this mistake being a completely normal scared child she has to fix this mistake

Beth didn’t even hardly know the way back her horse bucks her off, she gets hurt she runs back she’s already internalizing the grief of this unfair blame she’s saddled with and then what happens???? JOHN YELLS AT HEEEEER. crying screaming throwing up dyyyyying. home girl literally got blamed by her mom for killing her and then he dad yells at her for crying and being hurt and scared oh my gosh I’m so mad lmao. Um…. but yeah. Beth clearly struggled with anxiety and security at a young age and I think she wanted to make her mother proud and prove she was hard enough to survive “with the boys” so she could survive her own survivors guilt that Evelyn forced her to experience maybe???

also yeah!!! I do think John blamed Beth for his wife’s death and she’s desperate to make up for it but also resents John for moving on with any other woman because I think he made sure she felt she was responsible for Evelyn’s death and his unhappiness afterwards— maybe somehow that ties into like her resentment of what Jamie did to her too? Like maybe it triggers this massive guilt in her where she subconsciously thinks well fuck I stole my fathers happiness so my brother stole mine??? God idk what even is meta? Probably not this lol.

not me writing a novel on Beth’s childhood… but then a few years pass and she asks Jamie for help and yeah he fucks it up because well idk part of me does feel it was lazy writing on Tshers behalf again, because they had to be teens in the 90s and sterilization on Rez’s stopped in the 70’s I’m pretty sure idk still. But also like I just think with the fear of failing and the deep rooted trauma of “inate otherness” that Jamie clearly carried around from a young age I just don’t genuinely feel like it was in his character to allow Beth to suffer like that. He would’ve spoken up or argued with her about how he wouldn’t let her go in that clinic. They would’ve fought like shit but he would’ve convinced her that John finding out was better than being cheated out of motherhood and idk Beth and Jamie are just so goddamn conniving (in a good way) that they would’ve saved Rip from John’s wrath.

John’s undying love for the land and his egos unquenchable thirst for false pride and accolades is definitely his downfall as a father in my mind. They definitely are all victims of one another’s traumas and John’s refusal to acknowledge he’s the creator or root/epicenter of it all. All the siblings deserve so much better and I’ll never forgive the writing for completely wiping Lee out of the story too!!!

I also think about how if this is along the storyline that the Rez is still sterilizing women then John was completely ok with Kayce forcing that torture and agony on Monica if it meant protecting the pride of his ranch. But suddenly he’s upset Jamie took Beth there, like is he blind to his own double standards? Fuck but I love johns depth too. They’re all so weirdly complex and i end up thinking damn this man has a lifetime of unfiltered and unfinished trauma too aaaaaaaaahhhhh. I want to write all the things with Beth and John and Jamie lol. They sooth the shallow waters of my weird little soul soil.

sorry I ramble so badly, I can’t tell if that’s the adhd working or if I’m really just bad at staying on track because everything reminds me of something else and then I can’t find my way back to the circles beginning! But I’ve loved your asks they’ve been such high points in my time here thank you so much for talking and sharing in this with me my dude, I hope you have an excellent day/night/afternoon/dusk and beyond lol.

[wowowwild]

Klavier loved to play little pranks and Apollo knew the perfect punishment to fit the crime. Klapollo week 2023 day 2: weakness

Apollo liked to consider himself a patient man. He might be a bit brash and blunt, but he believed he was a very understanding and lenient person, especially to the two teenage girls that were currently driving him batty.

Athena and Trucy had been giggling and whispering and snickering all morning. Mr. Wright had looked rather amused himself, but that didn’t really give Apollo any clues. As it was, he couldn’t focus on his paperwork and he thought his eye might twitch off his face in annoyance.

“Ok, I’ll bite. What is it?” “Nothing,” was the immediate synchronous response from them both.

If he wanted answers, one of them would have to crack. Trucy was too good at putting on a show and evading the answers he really wanted, so he’d go for Athena.

“Athena, what do you two keep giggling about over there? It’s stressing me out.”

It really was and he was sure she could hear it. He almost felt bad, but knowing they were making fun of him made him less capable of caring.

Athena glanced at Trucy with a worried frown. Apollo knew he was winning. Trucy nodded and approached her brother.

“You’re such a worry-wart, Polly. Let me show you something.”

She pulled a mirror out from behind his ear? Apollo was constantly impressed by his sister’s talents, but his technical appreciation was put on hold when he saw his reflection.

“Klavier Gavin!” Trucy giggled. “Uh-oh. Someone’s in trou-ble.”

Athena began laughing again as well. This was the worst! That ass! Apollo had been very appreciative of the goodbye kisses he had received that morning, but now he knew the truth. Klavier had been marking him up with that purple lipstick he had assured Apollo was transfer proof. Normally Apollo wouldn’t care, but he did like to be professional at work, thank you very much.

Apollo grabbed his phone and took a very angry selfie to send to his boyfriend.

AJ: image_013569 KG: I see you found my love notes to you <3 AJ: You are in trouble. How do I get it off? KG: You want to be rid of my gifts? You wound me, Schatz. AJ: Gavin, if your next text isn’t instructions on how to remove your lipstick from my face, you won’t be allowed to kiss me for a week. KG: Use soap and warm water. Athena might have make up remover if you ask. AJ: Thank you. You’re still in trouble.

All things considered, no one important had seen him like that and now that he was scrubbing the lipstick off in the bathroom, his anger subsided. Klavier loved to play little pranks and Apollo knew the perfect punishment to fit the crime.

Apollo stayed a bit late at the Agency that day to ensure Klavier would be home before him. Once he got to their apartment and saw Klavier sitting on the couch waiting for him, he struck.

“It’s over for you now, Gavin!” Apollo made a predatory dash to his wonderful infuriating boyfriend. Klavier recognized that face. He recognized the twitch in Apollo’s fingers. Uh oh. “Wh- Wait! No! I’ll behave, please- Ahahaha, Apollo, bitte, Schatzi, I’m begging you, take pi- haha, pity on me!” Apollo had descended upon Klavier like crows on carrion, attacking his sides with deft hands. “You should have thought about that before you left lipstick marks all over me before work.” “But- but, Schatz! I couldn’t help it! You just look so- hahaha, cute!”

Klavier was doomed. He had been doomed ever since that fateful second date when Apollo had learned just how ticklish his boyfriend was. Klavier Gavin, international rock star and genius prosecutor, was perfect in almost every way. He had only two weaknesses:

Apollo Justice Being tickled by anyone, but especially by Apollo Justice

Klavier squirmed and tried his best to form pleas, unable to properly string together a sentence between laughs and wheezes. Eventually Apollo found some spare mercy lying around and released Klavier from his punishment.

“No more marking me up before work.” “Ja, ok…” He was still catching his breath. “But since you’re not going to work now…” “You’re incorrigible.” “Ja. But you like me that way.” “You’re the worst. I can still put you on kiss probation, you know.” “Nein! I’ll be good.” Apollo chuckled. “Good. Now let’s eat. I’m starving.” “Lead the way, Liebling. Maybe you can have me for dessert.” “Klavier!”