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Y/n quickly wiped the tears from their face at the sound of a knock. ‘Come in.’ They hoped whoever was on the other side of the door didn’t notice the waver in it. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Fundy asked, spotting their comfort object laying nearby. The one they only hold when upset.
‘I think I fucked up.’ Y/n said, flopping their head on his pleather clad shoulder. ‘And why do you think that?’ Fundy kept his voice soft, having been through this before. Y/n had rejection sensitive dysphoria which merely compounded their struggle to communicate and befriend people. ‘I made a joke but no one got that it was a joke. It was a stupid meme based on something said earlier and no one picked up on that—which isn’t their fault. It just they took it as me being rude.’
Running his hand up and down their back, ‘Did you explain what you were referring to after they expressed those feelings?’ Y/n nodded in response, trying to rid themselves of panic. Of the voice in their head going ‘they hate you’ on repeat. ‘Then you can choose to further apologize and mention how you didn’t intend for it to come across that way.’
‘Or I can wait until this passes over.’ Y/n lifting their head up. Frowning when they saw Fundy shake their head. They brought their phone to him, showing him the joke and the aftermath. ‘Hun, they used the not mad tone tag. At best, I think they were just confused.’
‘Really?’ Y/n doubted him. ‘Yes, I’m certain. Miscommunication, it happens and you’ve done the best to clear it up.’
‘Snuggles?’
‘Why of course.’ Fundy quickly agreed to their request, wrapping his arms around them, letting them lean on him. His tail placed along y/n’s waist. Their comfort object still in hand.