my name is chelsea and my favorite things are iced coffee, over-sized cardigans and projecting all of my issues and feelings on foggy nelson. i write banter and dirty fluff. same name on ao3! my asks are on sometimes.
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You should only write in present tense with extreme caution.
not because it's bad or anything but because if you do it even once you're going to be editing the bits where you shifted tenses out of your writing for the rest of your life
if u write in present tense enough times in a row, you can switch this problem around & get confused when your present-tense narrator is talking abt something that happened in Their past. I recommend this bc it keeps u on ur toes
i accidentally signed up for something expensive & scammy (i am not even going to go into it because i feel VERY DUMB but it happens and it's fine) and none of the disputes i can raise with my credit card company are technically legit so i just picked the closest one and was like "technically i agreed to this but they apparently suck a lot and i can't even use the product and their customer service won't talk to me and please i'm gonna cry please please"
so we'll see.
i am luckily in a place where i can just pay it and consider it a very expensive lesson if necessary. and i canceled my cards so they can't charge me for anything else. so. SO. IT'S ALL FINE. i'm just gonna be sulky.
growing up is revisiting old writing and turning an age gap relationship into the horrible mistake the traumatized protagonist falls into before meeting a nice boy born within the same decade instead of the actual romance part
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for @amazing-spiderling, who is great and donated to a good cause! a cozy winter thing that probably needs a part two soon
---
“You know how sometimes I force you to have the fun that you didn’t get to have in your tragic backstory of a childhood?” Foggy says. “Because I’m your best friend and I love you?”
“Sure,” Matt says, suspiciously, pointedly ignoring the stupid little twinge in his heart that he gets every time Foggy says that he loves him. Which is often because he didn’t have a tragic backstory of a childhood and he knows how and when to say stuff like that.
Matt’s not jealous but he can’t help but note that Foggy has a clear advantage in their friendship occasionally.
“Well, you see, there’s all this snow outside. . .” Foggy starts.
“No,” Matt groans, immediately. “I hate snow. You know that.”
“You hate snow because you don’t have the foundation to love it,” Foggy says, grabbing Matt’s shoulders when he starts to turn away. “I can teach you! I can introduce you to the wonders of winter!”
“It’s cold,” Matt says, “and there’s slush and I can’t see ice on the sidewalk and—”
“I will be there every step of the way,” Foggy says, so earnestly. “I will carry you over the ice.”
“I don’t think you can carry me,” Matt says, smiling despite himself.
“Matthew,” Foggy says, moving his hands to hold Matt’s face instead. “Let me fix you.”
“. . .why do you care so much?” Matt asks, liking this whole situation a little too much while simultaneously wanting to bury himself in the snow to deal with how much he’s blushing right now.
Foggy hesitates for a moment before he drops his hands and claps Matt once on the shoulder, gently.
“Because I care about you, buddy,” he says. “Now, put on a jacket before I put it on for you.”
There isn’t a lot that Matt wouldn’t do for Foggy—something that Foggy either hasn’t realized or isn’t interested in exploring, because a lot of those things involve his mouth and parts of Foggy’s body—so he finds the warmest articles of clothes that he owns and also pointedly ignores that they originally belonged to Foggy.
—-
“Do you really think that it’s a good idea to strap knives to your blind friend’s feet?” Matt asks.
“It’s called ice skating, you drama queen,” Foggy says, clearly happy with himself, finishing lacing up Matt’s skates for him and patting him on his knee. “You’ll love it. Just trust me.”
“If I break a leg, I’ll never trust you again,” Matt says. “That’s going to undo a lot of emotional labor on your part.”
“If you break a leg, I will carry you everywhere until it’s healed,” Foggy says. “Lovingly, like a bride.”
The first five minutes or so of ice skating are terrible and wobbly and then Foggy asks kind of tentatively if he can hold Matt’s hand and help him and Matt gives him a shady look and says, “. . .okay, fine.”
It gets better after that.
—-
“You’re smiling,” Foggy says, when they’re bundled up on a bench drinking cocoa.
“Politely,” Matt says, smiling wider. “I’m humoring you.”
“Sure,” Foggy says. “You’re not having any fun, then?”
“Nope,” Matt says.
Foggy leans into Matt more, resting his head on his shoulder, and Matt can read body language well enough to know that it’s okay to put his arm around him. Friends touch each other and that’s normal, even if the body heat situation feels kind of harrowing.
“I’m having a really good time,” he admits, softly, a few minutes later.
“I had no idea,” Foggy says, turning so he can hug Matt instead.
—-
“We have ice skated,” Foggy says, when they’re walking arm and arm through the park, “we have imbibed the traditional drink of the season, we have made snow angels which I agree was not a great time—I’d recommend a snow ball fight but I guess I’d have an unfair advantage there.”
“I. . .don’t know about that,” Matt says.
“. . .oh, is this like that thing where you’re magically great at beer pong?” Foggy asks, sounding excited.
“That’s just the power of God and prayer,” Matt says. “With this, I’m pretty sure I can hit you as long as you keep making noise. Which I don’t think will be a problem for you.”
“Wow, okay, take your glasses off, Murdock,” Foggy says, laughing. “Let’s fight.”
Foggy definitely isn’t taking him seriously until he takes a snowball square in the forehead and then it becomes a brief and passionate war before Foggy abandons his side to tackle Matt to the ground.
“Ow,” Matt says, laughing so hard he can’t catch his breath.
“I give,” Foggy says, sitting on top of him, straddling his thighs. “You are the snow ball champ.”
“Do I win something?” Matt asks, smiling up at him.
Foggy barely hesitates before he’s leaning down to kiss Matt on the mouth softly, just once, lingering there for long enough that Matt can come to his senses and pull him down into a real kiss.
“Please take me home,” he says, gasping for air when they take a break. “I’m not going to do that again until I’m warm and there are blankets involved.”
Foggy kisses him one more time before he gets to his feet and pulls Matt up with him.
“Blankets?” he says.
“Don’t you think this would be better in a bed?” Matt asks, smiling hesitantly, “and maybe. . .out of these wet clothes?”
“Oh my god,” Foggy says, taking Matt’s face in his hands and kissing him again before tugging him back toward the sidewalk. “I thought I was introducing you to the wonder of winter and now you’re taking things to a whole new level. Let's go.”
I'm a huge sucker for like, accidental daddy kink, so if you could write something where Foggy calls Matt "daddy" kind of as a joke and Matt has Feelings about it but tries to pretend he doesn't, I'd love that. (Also I feel like you've definitely already written something like this but... I'm just really here for your fics so yeah...)
I LOVED THIS.Â
“I hate you for having no morning classes,” Foggy says, sounding too sleepy to actually be angry as he shoves stuff into his backpack. Matt burrows deeper into his bed and smiles.
“You have to register early,” he says, yawning. “I keep telling you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Foggy says. “You’ll teach me to be a productive member of society some day, Murdock, but today—have you seen the kitten?”
Matt fishes her out from where she was hiding in his sheets, laughing when she meows her protest and wriggles out of his hand to sink her claws into his t-shirt.
“I’m so jealous of both of you,” Foggy says, sighing, “but that’s adorable.”
Foggy came home with Goodie on a rainy afternoon, after Matt had been fighting off a shitty mood and spent the last two days in bed, and said, “Someone was giving them away on the corner and I looked into her eyes and knew that we belonged together and, also, I named her after Thurgood Marshall because I really want to see you smile, buddy.”
Matt smiled. Goodie was small enough to fit in his hand and she was warm and purred as soon as he touched her. When Matt falls in love, he falls in love instantly and fully—it happened with this scruffy kitten and it happened with Foggy.
“Skip class,” Matt says, now, reaching a hand out for him.
“Temptress,” Foggy says, but he takes his hand anyway, lets Matt tug him down and kiss him. “You’ll judge me once you’re not all cuddle drunk.”
“Maybe,” Matt says. “She won’t, though.”
He holds up Goodie so she’s close to Foggy’s face and Foggy sighs.
“Unfair,” he says, taking her and crawling into bed next to Matt, sitting her back down on his chest where she pads around contemplatively before she tangles herself in Foggy’s hair and curls up close to his neck.
Prompt: Foggy laments being good at braiding hair, but not being good at braiding his OWN hair, and he pouts until Matt ~reveals~ he's also really good at braiding hair. And then... fluffy things happen.
“Where in your shadowy backstory did you learn how to braid hair?” Foggy asks.
“Foster sisters,” Matt says, shrugging. “I did what I needed to survive.”Â
“You’ve got layers, Murdock,” Foggy says.Â
“…do you want me to braid your hair?” Matt asks, smiling.Â
Foggy gets a little queasy when Matt smiles but he’s getting pretty good at ignoring it.Â
“Only if it means we’re having a super fun sleepover,” he says.Â
“We sleep together every night,” Matt says, then catches himself, stuttering for a second before he says, “I mean–in the same room.”
“I got you,” Foggy says, laughing. “It’ll be like that but, like…popcorn and…pillow fights? I’ve only secondhand experienced sleepovers because of my sister.”
“I’m down for popcorn,” Matt says, “but I’d definitely beat you in a pillow fight. I don’t want to hurt your ego.”
“It’s sweet that you think I have an ego,” Foggy says. “Yeah, braid my hair.”Â
“Get me a hairbrush,” Matt says.Â
As a teenage boy, there are a lot of things that Foggy finds erotic, many of them accidental and some of them mortifying. The fact that he gets hard about the same second that Matt’s fingers brush his neck as he moves his hair makes him want to jump out the window a little.Â
“Is this okay?” Matt asks, a little hesitantly, running fingers through Foggy’s hair.
Perfect is not the word he meant to use but it’s not wrong and Matt seems to take it as a go-ahead, carefully brushing out Foggy’s hair and separating it into three pieces. His hands move slowly and carefully and Foggy spends too much time thinking about them. What else they could do.
“You’re being quiet,” Matt says, midway through. “It’s weird.”Â
“Sorry,” Foggy says. “Distracted. Uhm–what else do people do at sleepovers?”Â
“Truth or dare,” Matt says. “Talk about boys.”Â
“Any boys you wanna talk about?” Foggy asks. He’s joking.
He’s maybe not joking.
Matt’s knuckles barely press against his neck again. Foggy shouldn’t be so hopeful just because Matt’s sitting so close to him, but Matt doesn’t answer, just finishes up and slips the hairband off his wrist that Foggy gave him to finish up.Â
“Can I–can I touch it?” Matt asks, fingers loose around the braid.Â
“Uh huh,” Foggy says, breath catching when Matt runs his fingers from the top to the bottom, like he’s checking his work. He leaves his hand resting on Foggy’s shoulder and Foggy can’t help himself; he turns slowly to face Matt.
“Foggy…” Matt starts, softly.
“I’ve heard that girls practice kissing at sleepovers,” Foggy says, impulsively.
Matt looks startled before he laughs, dropping his head before raising it and smiling brightly.
“I’ve heard that, too,” he says, shifting closer.
“Will you grab the last box from the table and see if there’s anything left?” Foggy calls, from where he’s unpacking clothes in his matchbox sized room in their matchbook sized apartment they moved into a few days after graduation, a few months before law school.
Matt gets up from the least offensive smelling thrift shop couch they could find and accidentally knocks over the box on the coffee table, making a curious noise when something falls out and jangles when it hits the floor.
It’s soft when he bends down to take it. Artificial fur, a chain when he runs his fingers down. . .
“Just one thing left,” he says, smirking and holding the handcuffs up when he walks into Foggy’s room.
Foggy’s heart picks up when he turns around but he just sighs and goes to snatch them away from him and toss them in his top drawer.
“Sorry that you had to find out I’m a sexual deviant this way,” he says, dryly.
“Use them a lot?” Matt asks.
“Like. . .twice,” Foggy says, laughing. “Why? You wanna try?”
Matt’s brain shuts down for a second before he asks, “. . .what?”
“Oh my god, Murdock, I meant. . .borrow them,” Foggy says. “I wasn’t offering to chain you to my bed and have my way with you.”
“Right,” Matt says, laughing even while he feels like something just opened up inside of him.
*
Thinking about being chained to Foggy’s bed doesn’t mean that he’s gay or bi or whatever but Matt’s been thinking about being chained to Foggy’s bed almost constantly for several weeks which isn’t the best sign. So, he might be. . .whatever.
It’s possible.
*
“You want to go outside for a smoke?” Chris asks.
“Oh, I don’t smoke,” Matt says, smiling politely.
His summer job isn’t great but his coworkers are good at convincing him to come drink with them. It’s probably good to hang out with people that aren’t Foggy occasionally, especially given that Matt’s involuntarily lusting after him lately.
“Neither do I,” Chris says, resting a hand on Matt’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly and meaningfully.
*
Matt’s not sure why he follows him out onto the fire escape but he knows exactly why he stays when Chris pulls him into a kiss. This could be a good way to quell his curiosity about what exactly he’s been feeling about Foggy but the feeling of another guy’s body warm against his and a big hand cupping his head makes him think. . .it’s about Foggy but it’s not just about him. It’s about Matt. What he is.
“How did you know that--that I like--” he starts, barely breaking the kiss, and Chris laughs softly.
“I saw that mouth,” he says, one hand moving to rest at the small of Matt’s back, bringing him even closer, “and just. . .decided to go for it.”
That makes Matt feel a little wild so he kisses him first this time, not stopping until he feels fingers on his belt, saying, “Uhm, I don’t think we should. . .not here, at least.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” Chris says, warmly.
*
Matt’s telling himself that it’s healthy to experiment and that he might as well experiment as much as he can all at once when he goes to Foggy’s room to steal his handcuffs from where they’re still in his top dresser drawer.
“Cute and kinky,” Chris says, sounding a little surprised.
“What color are they?” Matt asks.
“Pink,” Chris says, amused. “You didn’t know?”
Matt takes off his shirt, hoping that it will be distracting enough that he doesn’t have to admit that he’s never used them or slept with a guy or felt this reckless about anything other than jumping between buildings in his entire life.
It works.
*
Matt’s arms are hooked above him, making his rickety headboard even louder than usual, and Chris is fucking him. Matt had no real idea what it would feel like but he let himself fall into the feeling of fingers stretching him open, a soft sweet voice telling him he’s tight and hot and good, and he quickly figured out that he likes it. Like. . .really fucking likes it.
His breath catches when he hears Foggy in the hallway, suddenly, ignoring Chris asking him if something’s wrong until he hears Foggy shut the front door behind him and makes a choice he doesn’t completely understand.
“Yeah,” he says, tilting his hips up, raising his voice. “Yeah, fuck me harder.”
He normally at least tries to be discreet if Foggy’s home but he can hear Foggy standing in the living room, standing still and heart beating hard, completely sure that he can hear every word of Matt begging for it.
He comes a few moments after Chris starts to jerk him off, listening to the sound of Foggy getting himself off in the bathroom.
Author/illustrator Trung Le Nguyen has been live posting reading Pride and Prejudice for the first time on bluesky and just hit the first proposal. The replies are basically the sickos meme
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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finally Doing Stuff to my tiny deck thing (in the middle of a heat wave oops). planted pollinatory things and a little bee just chilled in my hair for a while.
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
titsay
izzy806
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