#i mean he's like idk a disheveled dirt boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-missann · 8 months

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So, I always get infatuated with characters even if I have no idea who they are lol. So instead of ignoring my urge to write for them, I'm just gonna do it and just not bring up the series. Idk if I'll name this, but it's a good way for me to write about other stuff.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading!

I'll be here for whatever and whenever you need me.

It seemed impossible for those words to actually be doable. The sentiment was sweet, but it didn't seem realistic. Yet, here Mika sat waiting for the boy who told her those words.

She hadn't been expecting him to actually show up, but just minutes after she texted him, there was knocking at her door.

"Hey, I'm here. You didn't fall asleep did you?"

Mika playfully rolled her eyes and got from under her warm blanket to open the door. In front of her stood her strangely disheveled friend.

"Why would I call you and fall asleep?"

He smirked. "You've fallen asleep on calls before."

"Because someone refused to let me end the call." Mika went back inside, allowing him to join her.

"Well, while you might be obviously remembering things wrong, maybe you can remember why you asked me to stop by."

Mika got back under her blanket while he sat on the chair beside the couch she was on.

"Before that, even though I really didn't think you'd actually show up whenever I needed something, what did I take you from?"

He looked to his body and seemed unbothered by the dirt caked into the seams of his shirt, unconcerned by the red bruises on his chin and cheek, and even flat out ignoring the fact that he was missing his usual accessories-- specifically his bag, which he carried his entire life in.

"Oh, I was working."

"You got a job? When? You didn't tell me about it."

"Because I was gonna surprise you with a gift on your birthday."

Mika narrowed her eyes. Knowing it was strange how quickly he volunteered an explanation.

Mika sighed. "This is exactly what I called you over for... Gino, why are you getting back into all that dangerous stuff again?"

"What? You know I quit that. I don't roll with that crowd anymore."

"Yet you still hang around those places? Look, Damara saw you waiting around 9th street. We all know it brings nothing but trouble."

Gino let out a sigh and ran his hand over his hair. "She shouldn't have told you anything..."

"Why? We're still friends and I get worried about you knowing you're still screwing around with those guys."

"That's the thing, I'm actually not. I'm not wrapped up in anything bad."

"Then what are you doing? And don't try to lie, otherwise you must think I'm stupid and can't tell you're all bruised up."

"Of course I knew you'd notice, but it's not from some stupid street fight. I just kind of can't tell you what it's from though."

Mika sighed loudly and put her head in her hands. "I swear, this is exactly why I broke up with you. Here I thought maybe if we were just friends you'd open up a bit more to me... Looks like things are the exact same no matter what."

Gino got up and sat beside her. "Wait a second, that's not what you said before. You said you didn't wanna be with a thug."

"That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't why I broke things off. If I said the real reason you would've started lying even more."

Gino took a breath. "I did listen though. I got out of the Trizards, cut things with almost everyone I knew, and got a legit gig... Kind of figured it would patch things up between us."

"If you did all that then what the hell is the problem with just telling me what you're doing?"

Gino said nothing. They stared at each other and the room's silence weighed on them. Mika's eyes, especially locked on Gino.

"I'm sorry... I just can't-"

Mika released the breath in her throat and turned her back to him.

"Look, I know, I'm being an asshole. I swear though, I'll tell you everything once things settle down."

"And that's suppose to mean something to me?"

"How about this then?" His hand on her shoulder manged to get her to look back. The deep scowl on her face made Gino avert his gaze, but he took out his phone and scrolled through the images before stopping and presenting the screen to her.

"See? These guys, I work with them and I pretty much trust them with my life. They'd never let me slip back to my old ways."

Mika saw Gino standing around a group of people. They were all smiling and seemed to be enjoying themselves. This was a stark contrast to who she knew Gino hung out with before.

"You can show me them, but not tell me what it's about?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I kind of don't wanna jinx it by telling everyone about it then it blows up in my face. I promise that's the only reason I don't wanna tell you. If that wasn't the case, we'd be up all night talking about everything I've been doing."

Mika couldn't help but smile at his near boyish excitement. He always got that way when he wanted to talk with her. She almost forgot she was upset.

"Then you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"You have to come by my place just so I know you're not... dead or something."

Eagerly, he responded. "That's not a problem, but it's a little strange if you're gonna be going out with other guys and stuff."

Mika sighed. "I think you mean to say it'll be weird that we're not dating."

"You said it."

"You're so annoying. Look, I obviously never wanted to break up. I pretty much never stopped... loving you either."

Gino tried to hold back his smile, he failed however. "You sure can hide your feelings though. I really thought you were done with me!" He cupped his palm on her cheek. "But I'm so happy to know you actually weren't."

Leaning closer, his eyes closed and Mika was right there with him and their lips met just as their eyes closed.

Gino held Mika's face and kept her still while pushing her back against the arm rest of the couch. Mika let out a concerned muffled moan and pushed against his chest, stopping him.

"I know exactly what kind of kiss you're giving me and I'm not doing that tonight."

Caught red handed, Gino smiled at her. "I can't change your mind?"

"No, but I can do you one better. We can cuddle instead, but only if you change out of those clothes. You're filthy dude."

Gino chuckled and gave her a peck on her lips before he sprang off the couch and started to strip right in her living room.

"You still got my hoodie?"

"Exactly where we said you'd pick it up at."

"I'm guessing my sweats are there too?"

"I just washed them."

Gino smiled eagerly taking off with the outer layer of his outfit in his arms.

Mika smiled seeing him again. She felt an immense wave of gratitude wash over her knowing she could always reach out for him.

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artbymintcookies · 4 years

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if ur taking requests still.. could we get foggy antagonizing matt in the office? i read a fic once where karen didn't know about dd and came back in the middle of an out of control throwing-shit battle instigated by foggy who kept throwing things at matt's head to see if he could catch them (he could) anyway matt didn't want to out himself to karen so he took a textbook to the face n that scene lives within my brain forevermore

hope you don’t mind more words! Also Idk if this is what you had in mind but these boys are straight up mean to each other. under the cut bc long

wait how did this lowkey turn into a full kinda sad fic i’m so sorry

Foggy was angry at him. He knew this because Foggy had told him as much, but also because there was no way any person who was not driven to insanity through passionate rage would put rancid coffee in the coffeemaker. It was from the tin at the back of the cupboard that no one dared touch, liquid tar sitting in their kitchenette just to waft into Matt’s nose until someone did something about it.

Foggy, meanwhile, had a nice steaming cuppa from the coffeeshop across the street. He had bought one for Karen as well.

Finally, noon rolls around, and the stench had been looming around the office for long enough that he broke. He dumped it into the sink, worsening the smell as it coated the drain.

Tersely, he brought the empty carafe into Foggy’s office and plopped it down onto his desk.

Slowly, Foggy looked up to him.

“Can I help you?” he asked sweetly.

“Do I have something to apologize for?” Matt shot back.

“Was there something off about the coffee?”

“I’m not doing this right now,” he said, storming out of the room and trying to focus.

Foggy clicked his pen when he was peeved. It was usually only semi conscious, with the added benefit that it bored into Matt’s skull every time.

Matt could take precisely 6 minutes of it before he stormed into Foggy’s office, felt around for a capped pen, and replaced it in Foggy’s hand.

“This is a red pen. I’m not writing notes with this,” Foggy said flatly.

“As long as the clicking stops, I don’t care,” Matt retorted. “Is this also part of my torture?”

“I’d hardly call it torture.”

“You’ve been rude to me all week, and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“If you don’t know, you don’t know.

Foggy continued not to talk to him for another week. Matt developed an urgent need to punch something. So he did, repeatedly and hard, every night for a week, and then he stumbled into Karen’s apartment with bloody knuckles because he sure as hell wasn’t going to talk to Foggy about it.

“Woah, hello there, Mr. Devil. Doesn’t your partner usually look after you?” Karen asked, opening the window to let the man enter.

“‘Usually’ being the operative word,” Matt spit bitterly.

“On the outs again?”

“Rough patch,” he corrected. “I’ll fix it. I just need to find out why he’s being so pissy.”

“Ouch,” Karen deadpanned. “Why can’t he just be legitimately upset at you?”

“I haven’t done anything.”

Karen sighed. “What do we know? Inaction can sometimes be as harmful as action. Willful ignorance, negligence leading to serious harm, what have you.”

Matt paled. “What did I miss?”

“Well, a couple weeks ago, you were supposed to meet Foggy for dinner with his mother.”

“The Rosalind dinner,” he said, horror dawning on his face. “I had to stop a bombing on the other side of town. Did he do it himself?”

“I had to come to his rescue, a half hour late. Apparently, when he had told her she’d be meeting his partner, she had assumed he had meant business partner. She congratulated us on our engagement, by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, she hated that I was the tardy type. She said she’d ‘loathe to have her son tethered to a flaky type.’ Now, usually, I would hate to agree with the reason Foggy has to take Xanax, but just this once, I see where she’s coming from.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don’t tell that to me. I wasn’t the one losing out there. Foggy is a surprisingly good kisser.”

“Okay, yeah. Just invite me to the wedding,” Matt waved at her over his shoulder, booking it out the window.

“You owe me one!” she called after him.

The window to Foggy’s bedroom had a trick lock. Normally, it wouldn’t matter because he lived on the 11th floor and no one was ever trying to open it from the outside. Matt thought maybe he should let Foggy know as he shook it open and climbed inside. He could hear Foggy in the kitchen, which wasn’t good because it smelled like he was eating sugar cookies at 11pm, which was a definite depression meal.

“Hey,” Matt said, tapping Foggy on the shoulder. He dropped his plate and it shattered in a deafening noise.

“Get out.” Barely a whisper, and barely concealed irritation.

“I came to apologize.” He put his hands above his head in a show of surrender. “I’m sorry I missed dinner. I’m sorry you had to suffer Rosalind alone.”

Foggy paused for a long moment and shoved him out of the way to get a broom.

“I wasn’t alone. I had Karen.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way.”

It earned Matt a jab in the ribs. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t as violent as it could have been, so he took it as a good sign. “Shut up, I’m still mad at you.”

“And how can we expedite your anger so you go back to loving me?” Matt was suddenly glad no one else seemed to be able to hear heartbeats, because it was hammering in his chest. His palms were clammy in his gloves. What if Foggy still refused?

Foggy was silent as he cleaned up the stray ceramic. The pieces jangled into the trash before he spoke. “Just be better, Matt. I’ve been begging you for years.”

Shedding his gloves, he places them carefully on the counter, and his mask along with it. He felt all the ways his hair is disheveled, the myriad directions it was being pulled. He wanted to look away, but he needed Foggy to see his face.

“I can’t do that if you don’t give me another chance.”

“How many more will it take, Matty? How many other chances am I supposed to give you?”

“I’ll get it right one day, don’t you think?” He tried to smile sheepishly, and hoped it didn’t read as smug.

“Your track record says otherwise.”

Matt frowned, felt his muscles lurch downward grotesquely. He took a step forward and reached for Foggy’s hand. It was selfish, but he wanted to chase it when Foggy slipped out of his grasp. “I can’t lose you, Fogs. Don’t tell me that ship’s already sailed.”

A sigh. “You know, for the first time since maybe ever, I think Rosalind was actually proud of me. She was happy that there’s a firm out there with my name on it big enough to have employees, and that it’s competent enough to win cases more than it loses. I mean, I’m still poor as dirt, but at least I’m not a failure. She was proud that I found a smart and pretty woman to love me. You know what she said?”

“Foggy-”

“She said, ‘thank God you’re not so attached to that Murdock fellow anymore. You were getting a little codependent, were you not?’ I mean, what can I say to that? It’s not like it wasn’t true. She had investigators look you up. Came in with a stack of files three inches thick on everything that you’ve done that might reflect badly on me. And that’s just the Murdock side of you. Can you imagine if they found out about Daredevil?”

Matt felt his chin quiver.

“She called it a proposal. She wanted us to split. And it was so tempting, you know? All these years later, chasing her green light. Pathetic, don’t you think?”

“Is this a break up?”

Foggy shook his head. “No, Matt. I told her to fuck off, and that you’re my best friend and that she won’t be the one to split us up. Stormed out of there faster than Rosalind could be billed. Because I show up, for you, Murdock. I can’t do this if it’s not reciprocal.”

“It’s reciprocal I swear. I had- I’m sorry, I know it’s not an excuse, but there was a bombing on the other side of town.”

“Yeah, in Queens. You could have let Spider-Man handle it. Hell, he showed up to the scene faster than you did, according to the Bugle.”

Matt scrubbed at his face. “Okay, maybe Rosalind scares me a bit,” he admitted.

Finally, it got a chuckle out of Foggy. Dry and barely amused, but present nonetheless. “Yeah, she scares me, too.”

Before they could help it, they were laughing and collapsing onto the floor, and melting into each other’s arms.

“I really am sorry, you know. I’ll never let you face her alone ever again,” promised Matt, finding Foggy’s pinky finger to loop it around his own.

“See to it that you do. And you’re paying next time.”

“I can work with that. Just don’t leave me. Please.”

“It’s a deal, I guess.”

#under the cut bc long #mattfoggy #but hardly #matt murdock #karen page #foggy nelson #gen fic #Anonymous #matt fucks up and everyone's upset about it #there's a bit of karenfoggy because guess what i ship that too #daredevil #marvel #my fic

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makethanproud · 5 years

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my heart is lost // e

a/n: i fucking love this song and i fucking love ethan so it only makes sense. !!! mentions of drug use !!! it’s a blackbear song what do u want from me :P

summary: ethan takes care of you while you ride out a high. kinda. idk.

you rested your chin in your hand and tapped your nails on the counter. you had ethan’s contact pulled up on your screen as your phone sat in front of you, daring you—taunting you, even—to call him. it had been nearly two weeks since you last saw him, since you last spoke to him, and you weren’t about to break your radio silence just because you were high. at least, that’s what you told yourself. that’s what you told yourself last time too, and the time before that. you quickly grabbed your phone in a fit of impulse and tapped his number.

“hello?” your heart was pounding out of your chest. immediate regret. you didn’t know why you were calling him. “y/n? hellooo?”

“where are you?” you smacked your hand to your forehead and squeezed your eyes shut.

“uhhh,” he forced an awkward laugh. “i’m in beverly hills right now.” you bit your thumb to stop you from speaking without thinking again. “why, where are you?”

“i’m, um, i’m in my house. do you wanna come over?”

“hold on.” you could hear him talking to someone, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying.

“i’ll be over in like 15 minutes.” the tension you held in your shoulders released.

“oh. sweet. well, i’ll be here,” you said through a halfhearted laugh. it was quiet for a moment before ethan mumbled a goodbye and the line went dead. you returned your phone to its original spot in front of you and stared at the black screen.

“what the fuck,” you breathed, running your hand through your hair. you weren’t sure why you were so flustered. after all, it was you who called him. and it wasn’t like ethan didn’t care about you. he always came over when you called, even though he knew you’d ghost him when the night was over. it was practically routine at this point. god, you wondered why he stuck around.

you were removed from your thoughts when your phone chimed.

come outside, the text read. you slid off the barstool and grabbed the vial from the counter before stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, then pulled the hem of your hoodie over the lump.

you shook out your body to relax your muscles to not seem so eager. the bright lights of ethan’s bmw blinded you when you opened the door, forcing your hands over your face to shield your eyes.

“agh, fuck,” you grumbled, stumbling down the front steps. you pulled the handle to the car open and plopped down in the passenger seat. you looked over at ethan and blinked slowly with a soft smile. “hi.”

“jesus, y/n. are you on something right now?” he huffed, resting his arm on the window. you itched the tip of your nose as a reply and he rolled his eyes. “i thought we were over that.” he shifted the car into reverse and started down the driveway.

“oh, no,” you shook a finger at him, “you are over it.” you took the cocaine out of your waistband and waved it next to his face. you started talking again before he had time to react. “where are we going, anyway?” you watched as his mouth moved and you heard that he was speaking, but you weren’t listening. you were too focused—he was just so pretty. he wasn’t even trying. he didn’t have to.

you were absolutely enchanted by him. you were fixated on his distinct features as the street lamps illuminated the high points of his face, pulling you deeper into your trance. he turned to look at you and cocked an eyebrow when he realized you were staring at him.

“can i help you?” he asked playfully. you faced forward and folded your hands in your lap. your cheeks were hot. was ethan making you nervous? you felt your eyebrows stitch together and shook your head softly, concluding it was just a side effect of the blow.

you sat up as ethan pulled into a dirt parking lot on the side of the road. he came to a quick stop and put the car in park. “we’re here.” he got out and jogged to your side, opened the door, and held out his hand. you looked at his open hand then back up at his eyes. he wiggled his eyebrows and stifled a laugh, bravely reaching for you since you wouldn’t reach for him.

he led you over to a cluster of boulders near the edge of a cliff and climbed to the top of the biggest one. he grabbed your hand and pulled you up to sit with him.

you laid your back against ethan’s chest as you both watched the city lights of los angeles flicker beyond the edge of the overlook. gingerly placing your small hand on ethan’s much larger one, you sighed contently. you felt him rest his chin on your shoulder and lean his head into yours, closing the space between the two of you. your cheeks were burning now, only this time you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the cocaine.

your moment was cut short by the repetitive vibration of ethan’s phone. he pulled it out of his pocket carefully, trying his best to not move too suddenly. he silenced the persistent buzzing and tossed it beside you. the phone lit up once more before finally fading to black for good.

“who was that?” you questioned innocently.

“just some girl.”

“well why didn’t you answer?”

“she’s not important.” he brushed it off as if it were nothing. you knew he was lying, although you couldn’t place exactly why.

“throw it.” he gestured towards the cliff. your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

“throw it?” you wailed. “ethan that’s almost two hundred fucking dollars!”

he shrugged. “throw it!” his voice echoed through the hills. he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again. “throoooow it!” he flashed you a huge grin as you stared at the vial you held so tightly in your hand. you shifted your feet anxiously and raised your arm over your head, before releasing the vial into the night below. you froze when you realized what you just did. you turned, wide eyed, to find ethan hollering and clapping.

“i can’t believe you just did that,” he laughs, doubled over to catch his breath. when he steadied his breathing, he stood up and rested his hands on his waist. “alright let’s go.” you opened your mouth to protest, but decided to stay quiet and complied anyway. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you started towards the car.

the ride back to ethan’s house was much quieter than the ride from yours. it was a comfortable silence, though. you didn’t feel like you had to speak, you felt safe in the comfort of his presence. ethan kept his hand entwined with yours as he drove, eyes concentrated on the road in front of him. before long, you were at his house and he was dragging you inside.

he pressed a finger to his lips as the door creaked open. “my brother is probably sleeping,” he whispered. you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, making the hair on your arms stand up. you nodded and pursued forward into the darkness, hands stretched out in front of you to guide you. ethan’s body was pressed against yours, hands delicately placed on your hips so that he wouldn’t lose you.

“it’s this door on the right,” he spoke softly. you blindly turned into the room and stretched forward for the bed. you felt the comforter on your fingertips and climbed in, waiting for ethan to situate beside you. to your surprise, he announced that he would be sleeping on the couch.

“i want you to sleep here,” you whispered. “with me.” he opened up the covers and got in, body instantly fitting into yours. you couldn’t help but feel you were meant for each other. he wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his face in your neck. your breaths became rhythmic with his, and you became sleepy within minutes. it was the first time in weeks you were able to sleep without some kind of drug in your system. ethan, you feared, was about to become your brand new addiction.

you rubbed your eyes and rolled off the bed. it was morning. ethan was still snoring softly on his side, reaching out when he felt that you were no longer in his arms. he swatted the empty space beside him, settling for a pillow to pull into his chest. you shuffled out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen in search of some food.

“who are you?” you jumped at the sudden voice behind you. there stood a boy who oddly looked just like ethan, although he was a little taller and much broader. you quickly concluded that he was probably his brother, who wanted to know why a random girl was rummaging through his cabinets.

“i’m uh, y/n. ethan’s friend. hi.” you stuck your hand out to be polite. the stranger shook it seemingly unwillingly.

“you’re y/n? you’re her?” you pursed your lips and nodded.

“whatever that means. i’m ‘her,’ i guess,” you laughed lightly. he didn’t. the boy continued to study you through cold eyes before turning around and grabbing two plates from the cabinet.

“oh i’m not—”

“it’s not for you,” he said flatly. you retreated to a chair at the island and didn’t speak again. you sat in awkward silence for what seemed like forever before he left and ethan emerged in the doorway.

his hair was sticking out in every direction and his shirt was disheveled. somehow, he looked just as pretty as he did the night before. his pale pink lips parted as he gave you a lazy smile, leaning on the doorframe. you couldn’t take your eyes off him. you had sobered up in your sleep, yet your feelings for ethan remained. you finally accepted your fate:

you were fucked.

a/n: i didn’t proofread this at all so sry if it isn’t coherent lmao. this took four days to write because i couldn’t stay motivated. hope it’s not complete trash but idc if it is B)

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