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daredevilkink2015-04-15 05:15 pm
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2015-04-15 05:15 pm
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Prompt Post #1
THIS POST IS CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS.
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #2 TO DO THAT THING.
But please keep filling prompts on this post! Make sure to link any new fic on the complete or work in progress fills posts so it doesn't get missed.
Please read the current rules before commenting on this post.
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #2 TO DO THAT THING.
But please keep filling prompts on this post! Make sure to link any new fic on the complete or work in progress fills posts so it doesn't get missed.
Please read the current rules before commenting on this post.
Rules:
YKINMKATO. Play nice.All comments must be anon.If you fill a prompt, drop a link to it on thefill postso everyone find it.Warnings are nice, but not necessary.Use the subject line for the main idea of your prompt (pairing, kink, general wants).All types of prompts are welcome.Multiple fills are always okay.RPF is allowed. Crossovers, characters from the extended Marvel Universe and comics canon are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 TV show in some way.Drop a comment on themod postif you have any problems with meme or thedeliciousaccount. If you crosspost to AO3, please add your fill to theDDKM collection!
ETA2: we have a
Re: Matt does an MRI
(Anonymous) 2015-04-30 01:39 am (UTC)(link)Matt would be able to tell anyway, the pickling of Foggy's sweat, the uptick and stutter of his heart, the way he's picking at his cuticles (used to be he'd do it till they were bloody, especially during finals). He tries not to smile, knows he fails by Foggy's frustrated exhale.
"I'll be fine, Foggy. Most things are a little loud to me," Matt says, tugging on the edge of his earlobe to make his point. "Blind man's ears are his eyes, don't you know?"
"Yeah, yeah, Return of the Jedi, shut-up, it's not like I've suddenly forgotten about your Blind Ninja Superpowers, alright, it's just. MRIs are loud even for mudane people," Foggy sighs, sounding put-upon. It's part of his mother duck routine, so it's hard to take seriously.
He's finishing up in the changing cubicle, and Foggy's sitting outside on a bench. It's the last slot of the day -- 8pm. Matt's a little impressed they do them this late, but Claire had sent him the number to this imaging place on the Upper West Side, and a name.
Judy Silvestri, don't talk to anyone except Judy, OK -- she owes me a favor, and she'll send me the results directly without anyone else at St. Mary's seeing them. She'll also make sure you're in for a discounted amount since you don't want this being put on insurance. I don't care what you say, Matt, you need the MRI if you're still having the grinding sensation and the pain after two weeks of rest -- especially since you've got sub-q crepetus and that's no joke.
The scheduling had been quick and discrete. One woman at the counter, no other patients at all -- it had been like ghost town; bright, modern facilities, with a large, plush waiting room, three stories below ground level and empty except for three heartbeats outside of his own -- Foggy, Judy at the counter, and one other that Matt thinks is an large, ox-built woman (if her gait is any indication) who must be the tech.
Matt fingers the robe he's pulled off the cubby -- cotton, harsh but clean and starched, free and clear detergent which Matt is so absurdly thankful for that he raises the fabric to his nose for a long minute and inhales.
"Are you even paying attention to me, man?" Foggy asks, breaking Matt's introspection.
"Yeah, Foggy -- MRIs are loud, I gotcha." Matt slips on the robe, folds up his shirt, jacket, and pants, slips them into an empty locker, turns the key and pockets it. Pushes back the wooden slide screen and steps out. The center uses these overhead spotlamps to keep the lighting low, almost spa-like. Each lamp is like a sun-burst of warmth, surprisingly soothing on his neck. He turns his head towards where Foggy is sitting, a ball of aggitation.
"You didn't have to come, you know," Matt offers, raising his eyebrows.
"Oh shut-up, jerkward, you would've fallen down those absurdly tall steps down here without me and you know it," Foggy snorts, grabbing Matt's elbow.
Matt knows Foggy knows he doesn't need the help, but he's not going to call him on it as he leads him over to where the hum of the machines -- big bass strings of electricity, a magnet so powerful Matt can almost put a hand out and push against its gravity -- is significantly louder. Matt's mouth is dryer than he has an excuse for, and he wonders if some of Foggy's nervousness is rubbing off on him. They sit down, and despite the buzz of the MRI machine, he can still hear the tech stomping around inside, adjusting some sort of sliding bench with a hitching whine, and underneith it all, Matt can hear the brass of Shostakovich's Syphony No. 5 -- tinny and in crackling lo-fi.
"Why do I hear classical music?" Matt asks.
"They give you headphones, but it's a bait and switch, man; they do jackshit for the noise," Foggy answers. "You'd honestly be better off asking for earplugs if they have them."
-----
A/N: I gotta run to work, but I'll finish this off either tonight on shift or tomorrow morning. Sorry to make you wait. :(
Re: Matt does an MRI
(Anonymous) 2015-04-30 01:56 am (UTC)(link)Re: Matt does an MRI
(Anonymous) 2015-04-30 02:12 am (UTC)(link)- Clever & caring & so not taking his shit anymore Claire <3
- Foggy's concern & that he went with him at all (in the night, no less!)
- That bit about Matt sensing the energy of the magnet was rad
- Just the dissonance between what Matt's sensing (using the words spa-like, warmth, smoothing) and what we know will come next
Can't wait to read the next part! Hurry back, Anon!
Re: Matt does an MRI
(Anonymous) 2015-04-30 02:25 am (UTC)(link)Re: Matt does an MRI
(Anonymous) 2015-04-30 06:33 am (UTC)(link)