#this scene was an absolute nightmare to color but it had to be done for the otp tag

[pearlcaddy]

LOCKWOOD & CO. 1.08

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Safe (M, cold)

Well, here I am.

It's been a few months since I've written anything in the Elliot's universe, but recently someone asked for a Mark-centric story, and this behemoth is what ensued. Allow me to preface by saying this: Mark is basically my self-insert. This was a very hard story to write. If it sucks, my apologies, hah.

In this, Mark gets sick from Matt and wants to hide it from Elijah. It is significantly more hurt/comfort-slash-sickfic than snzfic, honestly. It starts fairly benign, fluffy, and silly and gets really intense a few pages in. There's a lot of musing, a lot of being inside Mark's head. Idk. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. This is the first story I've written on here that has taken me a full week to get down, and that I've written and scrapped multiple scenes. It is very long. I really hope you enjoy it if you read it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but also understand if it's just too long-winded for people to read. Also, there's a real chance of spelling/grammar errors because I just can't look at this monster of a fic any longer, ha.

Anyway. Onward.

CW: Male snz, illness, coughing, contagion. 6K words (almost exactly)

Safe

“Don’t go near them.”

It’s the first thing that hit his ears as he pushed through the swinging kitchen doors; no ‘hi, Mark,’ no, ‘good morning’, just a barked order with absolutely zero context thrown in. Mark whipped his head in the direction of the stern voice of his boss.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, making his way towards the office, where Elijah was stationed, seated, but not doing any computer work. “Who and what are we avoiding?” he asked as he entered.

“The chefs,” Elijah said, moving his chair to let the younger manager in to sit. Mark placed his backpack on the ground, tossed his coat over top of Greyson’s on the second office chair. Waited for further explanation that did not come.

“Okay…” he said, sitting beside his boss. “And we’re not going near them because…?” Mark hadn’t even seen Greyson or Matt yet this morning. The avoiding was being done for him, so what was Elijah’s deal?

Elijah hummed a low disapproval – of what, Mark couldn’t guess – and turned towards his computer. “You’ll see,” he said, shaking his mouse and pulling up an order guide. “Just don’t breathe your boyfriend’s breath, okay?”

Mark colored at the implication; it had only been a couple of months since Matt and Mark had been outed to the restaurant, and the floor manager still wasn’t used to their relationship being casually dropped into conversation. While Elijah busied himself with admin work, Mark stood – time to figure out what the fuck Elijah was on about.

You would think that finding chefs in a kitchen would be a relatively banal business; they’re chefs. They’re cooking. Hardly a moving target – but you’d be wrong. Somehow, the second a front of house manager starts looking for a chef, they become a ghost. They haven’t existed for a thousand years – are you sure this restaurant even has a chef? Mark couldn’t help but ponder how the fuck this hundred-square-foot kitchen somehow became a labyrinthian nightmare the second he wanted to find his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s boss; c’mon, he’d checked the walk-in, the back kitchen, even the dock to see if they were smoking, where the fuck were they?

Maybe Elijah had told the two of them to stay away from Mark and the front of house staff before the floor manager arrived, and they were playing a cat-and-mouse style keep-away game that Mark was unaware of. Or maybe they had gone to the store to pick up chicken or some shit. Either way, Mark was done looking. Elijah said don’t go near them, he thought to himself, heading back towards the front of the kitchen, easy enough.

Of course, it was the moment that Mark decided he was done looking that he quite literally bumped into his boyfriend coming through the kitchen doors.

“Oof,” Matt grunted as they collided. Greyson, not even a step behind him, turned their two-person bump into a three-car-pileup that nearly ended in hot coffee being spilled over all of them.

“Christ, Chef, watch where you’re going,” Matt muttered untangling himself from the middle of the pack.

“Mbe watch where I’mb going?” Greyson asked, wiping his coffee-covered hand on his chef’s pants. “The two of you are practically grinding on each other here and I ndeed to watch where I’mb going?”

Mark clocked it in the chef’s voice immediately – oh. That’s what Elijah meant.

But… he had said both of them… right?

Mark’s head shot up from checking to make sure he didn’t have coffee all over his button-down to look Matt directly in the face – ah. Fuck.

“Hh-! Hh’ITSHZH-ue! HRTSHH-ue!” Matt collapsed to the side to sneeze, seemingly in lieu of responding to Greyson’s dig. “Snf. Fuck off, Chef.” There it was.

“Bless you,” Mark said, attempting not to sound accusatory. Matt just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Sorry.”

Before Mark could respond to the unnecessary apology, Elijah’s voice rang out once again from the office. “Mark, I told you to stay away from them!” The GM stood from his desk chair and strode into the kitchen, physically pushing Mark and Matt away from one another. “Six foot distance,” he said, pointing at both of them. “And you,” he said, addressing his counterpart, “didn’t I tell you to go get some tea and sit the fuck down? We have a big night tonight and I need you conscious, please.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and held up his cup. “I was on mby way to sit when the children starting gyrating on each other in the mbiddle of mby kithcen,” he said. “Don’t put this one on mbe.”

Elijah squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “First of all,” he said, moving towards Greyson and plucking the cup from his hand, “that isn’t tea.”

“The tea we buy is gross,” Greyson whined. “And I’mb ti – hh! Hh...hhuh-ETSHZH-ue! Snrf, fuck.” Greyson took a moment to collect himself, to wipe his nose on his sleeve and cough – a wet, concerning sound – before finishing his sentence. “I’mb tired,” he said, snatching the cup back.

“Which is why I told you to go sit down,” Elijah said, pressing his palms together and accentuating each word with his hands. “And please do not get my front of house manager sick. I beg, Greyson.”

“Talk to him,” Greyson said, thumbing towards Matt. “I’mb ndot the one with my tongue in Mark’s mbouth twenty-four-seven.”

Mark’s face flamed once again, but Matt, either too sick to care or beyond the embarrassment that was a public relationship in the work place, just rolled his eyes.

“Jealous, much?” Matt asked under his breath. Greyson shot daggers with a glance at his sous, and Mark decided it was probably time to step in.

“Listen, how about I go grab the two of you some medicine from down the street, you both take a rest, and then by the time the meds have kicked in, everyone should be good for service.” Mark looked to Elijah for his blessing; his boss was obviously mulling it over, considering. “And this way, I’ll be out of the metaphorical splash zone,” he finished, which finally prompted a nod from Elijah.

“Okay,” his boss said. “Good idea, Mark. You two – come with me.”

The GM led the two chefs back into the dining room to lay in the back booth while Mark let out a sigh. He was happy, of course, to be out of the fight, to have seemingly calmed everyone down, and to have put his boss’s mind at ease.

Unfortunately, he was fairly sure that – despite Elijah’s eased mind – it was already too late for keeping himself away from the newest restaurant pestilence.

***

“Elijah is going to kill me, Matt.”

“Oh, please, he is ndo – ITSZCHH-ue! ndot,” Matt said, swiping the bottle of Dayquil from Mark’s hand and chugging it. “You gonna sit?” he asked, sniffling and patting the milk crate beside him and shivering. Mark sighed.

“I’m not gonna sit, because Elijah is going to kill me even more if he sees me sitting right next to you.”

“I’mb gonna go out on a limb here and say that’s ndot possible,” Matt said, dissolving at the end of his sentence into a chesty cough.

“You’re coughing now, too?” Mark asked, worry about Elijah’s anger usurped very suddenly by concern for his boyfriend. Mark placed a hand to Matt’s head. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry,” Matt said, not bothering to move Mark’s hand. Mark huffed out a little laugh.

“Don’t apologize for being sick. Please,” he said, moving his hand to cup Matt’s cheek. “Even if Elijah might kill us both.”

Matt smiled, pressed his face harder into Mark’s hand. “You might ndot get sick. You ndever know,” he muttered, eyes closing as Mark held his head up.

“Matt,” Mark laughed, “I mean… I don’t think that’s, uh, possible after last night.” Matt’s eyes blinked open at the mention of it, and a little smile flitted across his lips.

The apartment had been quiet.

“Matt?” Mark called as he stepped inside. “Babe, are you home?”

He strained his ears; the shower was on. Mark had an idea.

He tiptoed across the cold apartment floor, quietly stripping as he went; by the time he got to the bathroom door, he was nude as the day he was born. The bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way, so he pushed inside silently and pulled back the curtain.

A fact about Matt that shocked Mark more than anything was that the man did not get scared. He had yawned through their first haunted house together; he fell asleep during the Terrifier movies, for Christ’s sake. So Mark was unsurprised when, instead of screaming bloody murder the way he would’ve if Matt snuck up on his in the shower, his boyfriend simply turned away from the spray and smiled.

“You’re early,” he murmured, ushering Mark in.

“I came right from the gym,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “I wanted to see you.”

“Mmmm,” Matt hummed, pressing himself into Mark’s arms. “That’s nice, baby.”

They stood that way for a few minutes, until Mark tipped Matt’s chin up towards his face. “I wanted to see you,” he said, pressing his lips onto Matt’s neck, “but I also wanted to… do things. With you.”

Matt’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low. “Like what?”

Mark stood back to his full height, and pushed Matt against the shower wall. “Let me show you.”

“Fair enough,” Matt said now, lifting his head. “But, I mbean, are you feeling okay right ndow?”

He was, for the moment. But, Matt had seemed alright last night, and clearly he’d already been on the trajectory towards ill – despite that fact that he had been very good at hiding it. Whatever he and his boss had picked up was certainly quick to come on.

“I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me,” Mark said, rummaging through the drug store bag to hand Matt, who’d fallen into another paroxysm of coughing, the Robitussin. “I’m more worried about you than anything.”

Matt snapped the top off and chugged this medicine as well, seemingly without any concern about mixing two medications. “Babe, it’ll be fine. I kndow Elijah is worried about getting through the weekend, but it’s ndot like any of us haven’t worked with a cold before.” He shrugged then, handed Mark the medicine, and stood. Mark stood as well, and once again cupped Matt’s hot face – this time with both hands.

“Please just take it a little bit easy tonight, okay?” Mark said. “I know Greyson is sick, too, but don’t try to do too much. We don’t need another moment like a few months ago.”

“And to think I’d just forgotten about that,” Matt said, going on tiptoe to kiss his boyfriend. “I’ll be okay.” Mark kissed him back, a little longer than was maybe necessary; long enough that neither of them heard the back door open until it was too late.

“Mark, what the fuck are you doing?”

Oh, fuck.

Elijah.

***

By the end of the night, Greyson and Matt were shadows of their former selves.

“Hh-! Hhhuh… hhNGTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! ETSZCH-ue! Fuuuck mbe,” Greyson muttered as he wrenched into the sleeve of his hoodie – chef coats had been abandoned about an hour into service, when both he and Matt started shivering hard enough to fuck up the plating on more than half the dishes – for the millionth time that night. He attempted to clear his throat, prompting a flurry of congested coughs.

Behind him, Matt was sitting on the cold, industrial kitchen ground, head between his knees. “I’mb gonna pass out, I just kndow I am.”

“Don’t fuckigg pass out,” Greyson growled, pulling his sous to his feet. “You ndeed to get your blood mboving, you gotta stand up. Idiot.”

The two of them, bickering and sneezing in near-unison by the pass, had captivated the attention of both front of house managers, who had turned away from their computer work to watch the mess unfold.

“Hope you like what you see,” Elijah said, finally. “Because that’s gonna be you tomorrow.”

Behind his boss’s back, Mark rolled his eyes. “Boss, I’m fine. I don’t feel sick at all, trust me, I’m going to be okay.” It was mostly true; he’d sneezed a few more times today than was normal for him, yes. And he was a little tired – no more than usual, surely. The rawness in the back of his throat was easily ignored with huge gulps of water. He was fine.

“Mmm,” Elijah said, swinging his chair around to look the younger man in the eye, “sure. Whatever you say, Mark; just remember, if you look even close to how bad Matt does tonight, you’re off the floor. And I mean off the floor until you return to normal. A cold is one thing; whatever these two have is entirely another. Understood?”

Mark swallowed around his burgeoning sore throat; off the floor. Off the floor didn’t mean relegated to busywork behind the scenes; it meant sent home. Being sent home meant days without a backup manager to help Elijah on the floor, and no one to help on the floor meant Elijah would realize there was a gap in their team. A gap in management. Mark had been the only floor manager in all the years Elliot’s had been open; Elijah had mentioned a few times that maybe they should hire another person, someone to cover if both Mark and Elijah couldn’t come in, but Mark had been vehemently against it. Elijah couldn’t hire another manager, because if he did, he’d see how truly unqualified Mark had been for his position all this time. Once he saw how unqualified he was, he’d be out on his ass. No job, no money… no second family. No place he truly belonged.

Mark’s face flushed, and he cast his eyes towards the floor. “Yes, boss,” he said. “I understand.”

“Good,” Elijah said, nodding. “Now, go collect your boyfriend and take him to bed.”

***

The first time Mark was sick while working at Elliot’s was well over a year into his tenure.

Elijah had regarded Mark with concern, clocking him as unwell the second he sat in the office. “You don’t look well,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mark’s face had flushed, embarrassed; not getting sick for over a year working front of house was honestly a feat of accomplishment in the restaurant industry, but he still felt guilty for coming down with something, despite its inevitability. He shrugged, an attempt at playing it cool.

“I’mb okay, boss,” Mark croaked. “Just a cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Are you sure it’s just a cold? You feel okay to work?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. Did he look that unwell? “I mbean… yeah?” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“Well,” Elijah said, opening a drawer and pulling out cold medicine, along with a small bag that looked like it could’ve come from his mother’s medicine cabinet. “A cold, we can work with.”

The GM explained to him, then, that there were marked differences between the front of house cold, and the back of house cold. “You’ve seen Greyson sick at work a dozen times,” Elijah said, passing Mark a cup full of pills and a water bottle. “Right?”

“Sure,” Mark said, swallowing the pills around a painfully sore throat. “It’s ndot like he’s hiding it.”

“Right. Right,” Elijah said, popping open a stick that looked like – was that concealer? “The chefs, the cooks – they don’t have to hide anything. Us, though? No one wants to be served soup by someone with a stuffy nose. We all get the same shit, but only they’re allowed to look like shit.” He dabbed the concealer under Mark’s eyes, used an expert finger to blend it into his skin. “That’s the industry for you.”

“Are you… putting makeup on mbe?” Mark asked, laughing a bit.

“Sure am,” Elijah said. “A little concealer goes a long way in this profession, Mark. Concealer, and enough meds to tranquilize an elephant.” His boss closed the little concealer pen, put the medicine and makeup away. “I want you on the floor, but I want you to look… alive.” Elijah shut the drawer, shrugged. “Let me know if you start feeling really shitty. Otherwise? Come to the back to blow your nose, and feel free to help yourself to whatever you want in here.”

Mark blinked, a little confused, but grateful for the advice. Elijah seemed… almost fatherly, like this, and he could feel embarrassing tears welling in his eyes at this, the smallest gesture of being cared for. Mark looked down, cleared his throat. “Uh… okay, boss. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Elijah said, patting Mark’s knee. “We’ve gotta take care of each other in this hell hole of an industry, y’know?”

Mark couldn’t look up. The thought of his boss seeing him cry was entirely too much for him to handle. “Right,” he whispered. “Right.”

***

The hardest part of hiding an illness, Mark knew from experience, was speaking.

Putting on makeup and looking like a human instead of a corpse? Easy. He’d learned how to apply concealer so it didn’t look like he was in drag – just enough that in the dim lighting of the restaurant you couldn’t tell if those were dark circles or shadows. He’d learned if you added a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, no one noticed that your nose was also red, and he’d figured out the hard way that there was never a world in which he needed eyeliner, even if it made his eyes look less bloodshot.

He always dressed immaculately when he wasn’t feeling well; extra-crisp button down, sport coat, his expensive Ray Ban glasses, not the cheapos from Zenni he usually donned. Mark shined his shoes the second he felt a tickle in his throat, broke out the cuff links if he suddenly sneezed more than thrice in a row. He’d been trained well by Elijah to hide the visual cues of any oncoming malady.

Hiding how he really felt came even more naturally; he’d been practicing that since childhood. Complaining wasn’t in his nature, or had maybe been stamped out entirely at some point – either way, Mark could be actively passing out, unable to breathe, coughing so hard he couldn’t form a sentence, and he wouldn’t even mention it. Of course, he’d been sent home from work for being ill before, but never once had he chosen to go. Even the thought of saying ‘I’m sick’ made him dizzy with unease. You need to work through that in therapy, Matt had said to him multiple times, and he knew it was true, but it was also helpful. In this industry, admitting defeat was akin to admitting you sucked at your job.

The voice, though? That was always what gave him away. No matter how much medicine he took, he could always hear the rasp that overtook his voice immediately. His m’s and n’s turned to rounded shadows of their former selves even if he blew his nose every five minutes. His timbre lowered considerably, to the point that when Matt first saw him sick he asked how it felt to be able to do a perfect Johnny Cash, but only when he felt like shit. It was a problem, but Mark was a pretty quiet guy in general. If he was quieter than usual, usually no one was the wiser.

That’s what he hoped – that his boss would be none the wiser – as he dressed in his perfectly-tailored suit that morning, stifling sneeze after painful sneeze into handfuls of tissue all the while. Just don’t talk, he thought as he dotted Maybeline under his eyes. No one has to know.

Of course, not talking was a bit… difficult when his boss was around. “Good morning,” Elijah called to Mark as he buzzed through the kitchen, trying to make his way into the dining room without having to make small talk. Dammit. Mark stopped, begrudgingly, and nodded at his boss, who raised both eyebrows at the younger manager’s outfit choice. “Is there an event tonight I’ve forgotten?”

Mark shook his head, straightened his tie. “Just felt like dressing up,” he said, tactfully avoiding words with too many nasal letters. “How’re you, boss?”

“I’m well,” Elijah said, pointedly. He patted the empty chair next to him, prompting Mark to sit; don’t let him get a good look at you, a voice in Mark’s head chastised. Don’t get taken off the floor. “Greyson’s not coming in till three, if you want to do your preshift report in here today.”

“That’s okay,” Mark said. “I like the dining roomb.” Fuck.

Elijah cocked his head to the side, but didn’t mention Mark’s voice. “How’s Matt feeling?” he asked, another pointed question.

“He’s okay – a little better. Said he’d be here at four.” Mark patted himself on the back for maneuvering around any pesky m’s or n’s that time. Elijah nodded slowly.

“Glad to hear it,” Elijah said, standing. The younger manager was several inches taller than his boss, but Elijah was still able to look him fairly closely in the eye. Once again, one word rattled around in Mark’s head: fuck. “How are you feeling?”

Mark allowed a smile to form on his rapidly-chapping lips. “Good, boss. Ready to work,” he said simply. God, he needed to clear his throat. And more than that, he really, really needed to blow his nose.

Elijah nodded. “Alright,” he said, apparently placated. “Go ahead, then.”

“Thanks, boss,” Mark said, stepping out of the office doorway and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors before Elijah could say anything else. He’d made it through the first test, somehow. Just in time, too, he thought, making a beeline towards the bathroom. Because I really fucking need to -

“NTSHH!” Mark stifled a near-silent sneeze into his wrist as he yanked open the guest bathroom door. Finally, locked in the bathroom alone, he allowed himself to be as disgusting, as sick as he really was.

“Hhuh -! Hh- ETZSCH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Huh… hh’RRSHH-ue!” Mark collapsed in on himself, scrambling to collect a handful of tissues so he wouldn’t ruin the sleeve of his suit. He blew his nose as thoroughly as he could – not that it made any difference, he was still stuffed up to the gills. A pathetic little cough escaped his lungs, prompting another tickle in his sinuses. “HUHTTSCHH-ue!”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chastised himself, blowing his nose again. He’s going to fucking hear you.

He waited a moment or two to see if Elijah would push through the door – he didn’t – before sitting fully clothed on the toilet and pulling out his phone.

11:56AM

Mark

what is this, the fucking plague?

Almost immediately, Matt texted back.

11:57AM Matt

o shit, did we get you already? baby im so sorry. u shouldve told me u weren’t feeling good last night u couldve stayed over

11:57AM Mark

not your fault. and I’m ok, just trying to avoid Elijah, he’s gonna be so pissed.

11:59AM

Matt

omfg he’ll get over it. its not like someone in that restaurant isnt sick every other week

Mark sighed, his lungs crackling at the effort. Matt was right; someone was almost always sick at Elliot’s, that was the way of things in this industry. They all shared drinks, they worked in close quarters, it was bound to happen. This was less about the illness itself – of course he’d been sick at work before, who hadn’t? - and more about the look he knew he’d see on Elijah’s face when he’d finally have to crack. He’d gone directly against his boss’s orders, had put his job and the restaurant second to his baser desires. That’s no way to get ahead in this world, his dad’s voice bellowed from the base of his brain. Mark shuddered; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Elijah’s look of pure disappointment. He wasn’t sure he had it in him.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Mark stood and washed his hands. He took an inventory of his face in the mirror – eye bags poorly covered by drugstore makeup, his nose raw and red, his mouth slightly open to allow him to breathe – and realized how truly awful he looked. Was there even a chance that Elijah didn’t know he was sick? Doubtful, his dad’s voice muttered.

You have to just try, another voice in his head pleaded. Just push through, you know how to push through. You’ve done it a million times before. He doesn’t have to know.

That voice, Mark knew, was delusional – a child’s gnawing plea to be accepted, to not get in trouble, to not be thought of as a burden – but he knew that sometimes you had to be delusional, had to listen to the saddest, smallest part of yourself to get through a day. He pulled his phone back out before leaving the bathroom.

12:04PM

Mark

just please don’t say anything to Elijah when you get here, ok? I’m fine, I promise. its honestly probably just in my head, it’s probably nothing so just don’t say anything. see u soon.

Pathetic, his dad’s voice spat, and Mark knew the voice was right. But that was nothing new, nothing to dwell on; he’d always been pathetic. Mark switched off his phone then, not wanting to be comforted by his boyfriend, and stepped onto the floor.

***

“Mark,” Matt said, reaching up to touch the front of house manager’s forehead, “you really need to go.”

Mark pulled away before Matt could touch him, though not by choice. “HRRSHH-uhh! Hh-! HhNTZSHH-ue! Snrrf. Leave mbe alone.”

Matt’s hand recoiled at the ice in his boyfriend’s voice, obviously hurt. Normally, Mark would’ve nearly fallen to his knees at the thought of hurting Matt’s feelings, but today, with the cold from hell progressing quicker than he ever could’ve anticipated, he couldn’t even find it in himself to apologize. Obviously he needed to go, but that would mean admitting to illness; it would mean begin taken off the floor until god-knows-when. It would mean Elijah replacing him.

No. He wasn’t about to go.

“Honey,” Matt said carefully, touching Mark’s hand across the expo board, “I’mb sure Elijah would understand. It’s a slow ndight, he already sent Greyson back home. What are you trying to prove?”

Of course, Matt was right; last night’s crazy shift was in stark contrast to this evening’s steady pace. There were hardly twenty more covers for the evening, and yes, even Greyson had admitted defeat and slunk out right at six p.m., in a fevered haze. The only reason Matt was still here was because his fever had broken this morning and, despite the lingering cough and stuffy nose, he was clearly feeling better. Good enough, even, to have gone behind Mark’s back and talked to Elijah.

“Matt told me,” Elijah had cornered him right before preshift started, in the back server station while everyone else ate family meal. Mark felt his stomach sink. Fucking Matt, he thought, clearing his throat to address his boss in the most normal voice he could muster.

“Told you what?” he asked, straightening his tie. Elijah gave the younger manager a knowing look.

“You don’t look like you feel well, Mark,” he said, obviously trying a different tactic. This time, Mark’s stomach knotted; he felt, for a moment, like a little kid, wanting to fall to the ground in front of his mommy and just allow himself to be comforted. He thought for a fleeting moment of how good it would feel to just admit it; I’m sick, he would say, if he were a normal fucking person, I want to go to bed.

Instead, Mark shook his head. “I don’t kndow what Matt told you, but he doesn’t kndow what he talking about,” he managed, his voice cutting out only once. “I’mb fine.”

Elijah sighed. “Mark, listen, I know I was an asshole yesterday -”

“Boss,” Mark cut Elijah off. “Please. I’mb okay. Just please, let mbe work.”

He’d walked away then, hadn’t let Elijah say whatever it was he wanted to say, and had avoided Matt as well as he could throughout service. Now, mid-shift, when all the cooks and servers were side-eyeing them from he expo board, was not the time to hash this out.

“I’mb ndot trying to prove anything, Matt,” Mark said now, grabbing two plates from the window. “Just stay out of mby business. What table?”

Matt bit his cheek, peaked at the chit. “Please don’t be mbad,” he said, voice quiet. Mark prickled; he couldn’t help it. He was mad. He’d asked one stupid thing of Matt, and now here he was, career in trouble, embarrassed in front of both of their staffs, and once again gearing up for another painful -

“HTTSHH-ue! God, fugck,” Mark swore, ducking expertly away from the plates he was holding. He sucked in through his nose hard enough to make himself dizzy, and looked back at Matt. “What table, Chef?” he asked, pointedly. Matt winced.

“Thirty-three,” he said finally. Mark nodded.

“Great. Thangks.” He turned on his heels and pushed out the kitchen doors.

***

Before it happened, Mark found himself thinking exactly what his boyfriend was moaning the night previous: I’m gonna pass out, I know I am.

The only difference was, Mark was correct.

He’d been feeling shittier and shittier as the night went on. It began with spells of dizziness that came anytime he moved his head too fast, then moved on to an ache in his chest every time he coughed. A cold is one thing, he remembered Elijah saying the night previous. Whatever they have is entirely something else.

Elijah the prophet.

He kept pushing through. Plate after plate came out of the kitchen on his aching arms; he shook drinks while coughing into his shoulder, and sniffled his way through seating guests. Mark could feel Elijah’s eyes on him, though his boss refused to speak to him throughout the shift. I’ll show him, his fever-addled mind kept saying. I can do this. I’m fine.

It wasn’t until the last table had sat that his body well and truly told him he’d had enough. Mark was seeing stars when he grabbed a filet and swordfish, and once again he ignored it. He ignored the room swimming before him as he pushed out of the kitchen. He ignored the sway in his step.

“Shit, Mark!” was the last thing he heard, standing in the middle of the dining room with hot plates in each of his hands. There was no way to tell who said it – Elijah? Matt? – but it didn’t really matter, because before he could respond, his vision became a tiny pinkprick, his knees buckled, and the lights went out.

***

When the world came back into focus, he had somehow teleported into his bed.

At first, Mark tried desperately to get up; he’d fallen in the middle of the restaurant, that he unfortunately remembered immediately. There had been people around, guests watching, and he immediately felt his face flame with embarrassment. Oh, Elijah is going to kill me.

That was when he realized he was no longer in the restaurant. Mark placed a hand over an aching eye; was it all a dream? He looked down – no, it couldn’t be. He was still in his tailored suit, the tie and ciff links missing, but otherwise dressed to the nines.

“Whoa there, kid,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Go ahead and lie back down.”

Mark blearily glanced towards the voice. There, just outside his bedroom, stood Elijah, a steaming cup in one hand and a thermometer in the other. Fuck.

“Shit, Elijah, I’mb so sorry I ca – HTSHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Fuck, ’scuse mbe,” Mark, any facade of health finally washed away, used his expensive suit jacket to wipe his nose. Elijah glided across the small room and sat on the foot of the bed, handing the younger man the cup. Tea.

“Save your breath,” Elijah said. “You already apologized about a hundred times at the restaurant.”

He had? Mark gave Elijah a confused look, and sat back on the pillows behind him. He hadn’t even realized he’d come to at the restaurant at all.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah said, nodding. “To me. To Matt. To the guests. To the EMTs. I would think you’d be apologized out.”

EMTs? Mark cringed; as if he hadn’t been embarrassed enough. He wanted to ask, but at the same time he figured it was probably better that he didn’t remember. Small mercies, he thought.

“Lij,” Mark croaked, taking a sip of the tea, “I really amb… sorry. I mbean, I can’t imagine how mbuch I embarrassed you. Thangk you for bringing mbe home… I understand if you can’t…let mbe, uh. Work there. Anymore.”

Mark, destroyed by fever, and aches, and what was probably some sort of bronchitis-sinus-infection super-fucking-hybrid, couldn’t help but let the angry, ashamed tears fall as he said it. Matt wasn’t here, which most likely meant he was out both a boyfriend and a job. You fucking idiot. You stupid, fucking idiot, how dumb could you -

Elijah broke through the screaming in his head – he took Mark’s arms in his hands, placed his cup on the side table, and pulled him in for a hug. “Mark,” his boss said, “you really had us worried.” He pulled the younger manager back, concern painted on his face. “Of course you aren’t fired, I don’t know why you’d think that of me,” he said, a moment so raw that Mark felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “You should’ve just told me you were so sick. So you could go and rest. I would’ve even let Matt go with you.” Elijah patted his knee then, and handed Mark back the mug. “It’s just a restaurant, Mark. You’re more important than service.”

Mark felt his eyes well up once again. Had anyone ever told him he was worth more than the work he did? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure, and that felt like an even harder gut-punch.

“I just…” he managed, wiping beneath his eyes. “I just didn’t wandt you to replace mbe. I’mb sorry for letting Mbatt get mbe sick.”

At this, Elijah actually laughed. “Mark,” he said, “you’re young. You’re in love; it comes with the territory. I was annoyed because Greyson and Matt are constantly getting everyone in that restaurant sick. I wasn’t trying to attack you.” He smiled then, a small and slightly sad smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how to came off.”

Mark didn’t know what to say; he felt awful, like he’d been hit by a semi, and he just wanted to sleep. See Matt. Apologize for being a dick. And sleep.

“Is Mbatt mad at mbe?” he croaked, pulling his legs into his chest. This time, Elijah actually laughed.

“I don’t think Matt knows how to be mad at you,” he said. “He’s just closing up the line; he was actually the one who brought you back here, but you were racked out so I said I’d come keep an eye on you till he got back.” Elijah shrugged, gave a little knowing smile. “He’ll be back soon. Okay? We don’t have to talk any more about this now. Just… try to sleep.” He patted Mark’s shoulder; a fatherly gesture from a man who claimed to know nothing about being a parent. “I’ll call Matt.”

Finally, finally, Mark conceded. He wanted to thank Elijah, or maybe apologize again, but he couldn’t make his mouth form words. Instead, he just nodded, grateful, and sank back into his pillow. He felt his eyes close, and allowed himself, for once, to let someone else take care of him.

He knew, maybe for the first time in his life, that he was safe.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hnmnn hit with the idea of ST2 Killer allowing himself to be the Bad Sanses’ punching bag if it means completing the mission or dealing with whatever issues is preventing teamwork in the gang. If it means resolving any issues that prevents Nightmare from moving forward with his plans and goals.

Like we can see the comic where Nightmare chokes him unconscious and he doesn’t attempt to even fight back or try to tell him to stop, just keeps trying to tell Nightmare about the idea he had to complete the Boss’ goals. This man has absolutely zero concept of self preservation.

Like the scene in Yellowjackets where Lottie allows Shauna to beat her bloody and unconscious after Shauna’s loses her baby & still believes that the group ate her baby, takes the beating for the rest of the group, because the group needs Shauna to survive and Shauna needs to get it all out before it becomes a problem.

ST2 doesn’t fight back against Nightmare, and I highly doubt he ever fought back against Chara whenever his SOUL was in Stage 2. They are higher in power than him, they’re his masters and they own him, and he believes it to be absolutely pointless to even attempt to try. That may change when in other Stages of course, but when firmly in 2, he doesn’t fight back.

I can easily see him willing to be the gang’s punching bag if it comes down to it simply because it’s purely logical. He’s stronger than most of them, he’s willing to do it, he’s dedicated, he’s endured and done worse to him and others.

And most of them hate him for various reasons anyway, many of which were because of his own behavior.

It’d be cathartic for a lot of them to take their rage, anger, hatred and fear out on the willing one who they all know can take it. And he has their face. A lot of them hate themselves that much.

He’s willing to let them view him as the mirror of their absolute worst traits, to be the voice of what they despise in themselves, if it means they’ll get their shit together and focus on the real threat once it’s done. Taking their hatred of him and using to the group’s advantage.

Of course it all depends on the situation, though. Some of them like believing they’re better than beating on someone who doesn’t fight back, so he provokes a fight, fights back some.

They have silly moral obligations and righteousness preventing them from beating someone who’s already down, but it’s fine—he’ll let them believe they’re simply just making him shut his filthy annoying mouth or defending themselves or protecting someone else’s honor. (*cough* Papyrus *cough*)

It’s all for Nightmare’s goals. Color is absolutely horrified when Killer tells him that story and Killer’s just like “what? Their emotions were an inconvenience. Had to be done.”

Any remnants of trauma from this experience in ST1 and ST3 being pointed out and ST2’s just like, “???” He doesn’t get it. It was the logical choice and it paid off. Bones can heal, and the pain was more like a pleasant tingle.

[compressedrage]

just watched the Sonic X Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1 (the longest title I've ever heard) and boy do I have THOUGHTS

The title is "Shadow and Maria". You know I'm going to be in shambles by the end of this mini series

The beginning paralleling how Shadow ran with Maria right before her death but their roles are reversed, and nothing's actually wrong someone hold me–

Just Shadow asking what's wrong. Just him being prepared to catch Maria when she collapses. Just how frustrated he is at how they haven't been able to cure her yet. Just... yes.

Maria is excited to see the aurora, both in the Ark and on Earth– stab me in the chest

I am in awe of that fight scene. The effects are so good and it's so fast! I can't wait to go back and appreciate the choreography better.

THE NIGHTMARE SEQUENCE HAS MY ENTIRE SOUL.

Ahem, sorry, I love dream scenes and nightmares and all that fun stuff, and this is done SO WELL. Everything is so eerie and wrong but Shadow can't do anything other than just barely grasp what's happening because he's being thrown from one traumatizing event to another.

He has a Chaos Emerald on his person. I'm not surprised.

HE UPROOTED. A TREE. FROM A STATE OF SLEEP.

And he's off to get answers, oh boy!! I can't wait to see these answers.

And now I get to talk about the animation because oh my gosh. It's so good. Shadow's Chaos powers look insanely good, especially when they're illuminating the darkness around the characters.

The Aurora borealis is absolutely gorgeous, as well as the ensuing explosions. which sounds a little funny but sue me, animated explosions are beautiful.

Again, the speed and artistry of the fight scene is a marvel to see. The colors and lighting are incredible.

I don't think I can name all of the things I love about this animation, but I had an enormous amount of fun watching it. I can't wait to see the next episode! :D

[justsomekpopstuff]

ateez as a hockey team - part 3

A/N: When I say that hockey!ateez has been living in my head rent free for ages, I mean it. If you also enjoy hockey, or want to learn more, feel free to reach out!

current masterlist | fic recs

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

their team colors are red and black based on nothing but vibes

their team mascot can only be described as some sort of cowboy/pirate rapscallion type that matches their chaotic anarchist vibe

one game, both starting goaltender!Mingi and backup goaltender!Yeosang were taken out, meaning the team needed an emergency backup goaltender, or EBUG for short

No one on the team knew of anyone outside who they could call in to fill in their goaltender position, and the refs were about to make them forfeit the game. That's when they had the brilliant idea to take forward!Jongho, slap some goaltending gear on him, and put him in net because, by their definition "he's good at everything so he'll be fine". They ended up winning that game.

their first season as a whole team, at their very first practice, the whole team collectively decided that they needed to do some "bonding activities"

That "bonding activity" ended up being a Goaltender Joust. Starting goaltender!Mingi and backup goaltender!Yeosang got dressed in full gear, and were set to carry teammates on their backs and charge at each other like an actual joust, with hockey sticks as the lances. The first two to participate, based on size alone, were forward!Hongjoong, the captain, and forward!Wooyoung. How no one broke anything besides hockey sticks that day is a miracle that their managers cannot explain.

Despite being the backup, backup goaltender!Yeosang is the first goaltender on the team and in their league to score a goaltender goal

Goalie goals are incredibly rare, so when it happened the entire arena was in an uproar. Yeosang didn't even realize he had scored until the entire team barreled down on him and pretty much tackled him to the ice with joy. He swears to this day that he just meant to get the puck to the other side of the ice.

best tape job: forward!Seonghwa, who tapes with absolute precision and perfection before every single game

worst tape job: forward!Wooyoung, who tapes like a nightmare but he says it gets the job done

forward!Hongjoong got into his first official fight a few seasons in after a player from the other team started to get a little to violent with his younger teammates for his liking

He ended up winning the fight, but didn't expect what came next. The fight ended up going viral online because the player that Hongjoong had fought was quite a bit larger than him. It didn't help that someone made an edit of Hongjoong looming over this player during the fight with the "Troubled Birds" meme text that says "I'm three ounces of whoop-ass" over it. The team printed the meme photos out and got it framed in the locker room, and they always take one on the road. Defenseman!Yunho swears its for "good luck" and not because it makes him die laughing ever time he sees it.

when the three stars of the game are announced at home games, the players will throw one of three things into the stands - rabbit plushies, cowboy/pirate plushies, or foam swords (all are fan favorites)

defenseman!Yunho can no longer be mic'd up during games for behind-the-scenes content because the first and only time he did it, he was so loud he broke the microphone

forward!Jongho is known throughout the league as Hockey One-Punch Man

Everyone on the team already knew that Jongho was secretly freakishly strong, but the rest of the league had to learn the hard way. A player from the other team decided to "snow" backup goaltender!Yeosang and get up in his face, poking Yeosang with his stick rather aggressively. Jongho, in his fresh-faced rookie season glory, said "absolutely the fuck NOT" and skated over there to try and get the player to stop. The player then tried to tease and pick on Jongho instead like “oh you think you’re so scary”. That's when Jongho dropped the gloves just one-punched him and knocked the other player out cold. No one fucks with Jongho again, especially when they realized that he was punching with his RIGHT hand, and Jongho is LEFT handed.

The team is banned from doing many things on the road, including roughhousing in the hotel rooms, courtesy of defenseman!San and forward!Wooyoung

The particular ban around roughhousing was implemented very quickly into their second season while they were on the road, when everyone quickly realized that these two in particular were chaos incarnate when rooming together. It was late at night when the whole team's floor woke up to a very loud yelp of pain. Come to find out that the two of them were roughhousing, and San, completely on accident, broke Wooyoung's wrist. They were never allowed to room together again, and now forward!Seonghwa is in charge of bed-checks.

[reel-fear]

Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.

For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.

I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.

When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!

And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.

"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.

"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.

"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.

Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?

At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.

I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?

I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.

I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.

Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.

Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.

[jules-has-notes]

What's This? — VoicePlay music video

People often debate what qualifies a movie as a true Christmas movie, and The Nightmare Before Christmas is no exception, despite the name of the holiday appearing in its title. But there's absolutely no question that its soundtrack is darn catchy. Which is why VoicePlay have made several music videos of those songs as their Halloween offerings, starting with this one. After all, professional singers often have to start rehearsing for holiday shows in October, if not earlier. Why not ease into things with a little gleeful spookiness?

Details:

title: What's This? (feat. J.None)

original performer: Danny Elfman as Jack Skellington in The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)

written by: Danny Elfman

arranged by: Layne Stein

release date: 30 October 2017

My favorite bits:

the lovely opening chords

J.None's tone of cautious wonder

Eli and Earl imitating the carolers and the ossilating movements of their vehicle from the movie

♫ "I might possibly go daffy…" ♫ followed by Layne popping a quack into his percussion riff 🦆

"But seriously? What is this? Ew!" coinciding with the lighting change & makeup reveal

singing undeterred while dodging incoming "snowballs"

those sweet harmonies on ♫ "coming from insiiide" ♫

Geoff and Layne excitedly leaning into the middle at the start of the crescendo

the silly character voices on the syncopated ♫ "What… is… this? Yeah." ♫

the combination of rhythmic clock ticking and lullabye-like cooing as the "children" drift off to sleep

♫ ⇘ "dre-eam-laaand" ⇘ ♫ "That was weird..." 😬

J batting away Earl's encroaching monster hands

Geoff's bouncy descending bass line

the abrupt ending

Trivia:

This song had been part of their holiday setlists for several years, including their annual residencies for Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party at Disney World.

They finally recorded this version with J.None for their "Warm Up" EP, which was released two days after this video.

The UV-reactive makeup looks were designed and applied by Andy Wright and Lia Malamo from Makeup and Creative Arts. The fixitive they used was apparently very effective, since the guys said it took several days to completely wash off.

Each singer is painted to resemble a character from the movie. Eli is Dr. Finkelstein, Geoff is Oogie Boogie, J.None is (of course) Jack Skellington, Layne is the Mayor of Halloween Town, and Earl is Barrel.

When VoicePlay revisited this movie in subsequent years, the only singer to repeat a character from this lineup is Geoff, who had the lead on "Oogie Boogie's Song" in 2019.

The lighting changes were designed by Eli, and controlled by Kathy during filming. Meanwhile, Nick handled the audio playback and "color commentary" (perhaps code for "snowball" throwing?).

There are some sneaky Oogie Boogie faces in the set. Take a look at the black boxes behind Earl.

The lyrical silliness in this video's YouTube description was: " "What's this? What's this? There's white things in the air, What's this? There's white things in the air. What's Thi… " Wait… what are the words again?! Ok, back to zero everyone let's shoot this thing from the top again!"

When they were done filming, they had a little fun in breaking down the backdrop. Earl smash!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by VoicePlay (@thevoiceplay)

A fan was so amused by the destruction that they decided to not just draw the scene, they also animated it with a little speech bubble.

Leon King also indulged in some animation inspired by the glowing makeup.

[cyber-crustacean]

HIIII SASSSS ITS 2AM I CANT SLEEP you get the au rambles

i have been. thinking. about the fact that admin sonny was dead before kinito dragged him in. and because of how he died I have been imagining how that entire scene would've played out. how long had sonny been dead? what did nito see? what was his reaction? did they start out as friends in there or was it straight to hating each other? what was sonny's relationship with kinito like before he died?

I wish I could beam you images from my brain because the scene I have in my head... omg I cannot words it

ALSO!! throws my bird at you!! owl!!!

they trust kinito so blindly and completelu,, they're sorta like how they were before they found out about all the bad shit. in like peak sonny hater era. they'd believe anything he says, even a blatant lie, and if they believed anything dangerous was going on they'd want to tell him right away.

owl is very easily manipulated and they are also so clingy. they are attached to kinito now. never letting go if they can help it. and they trust him!! to keep them safe!! they trust that they'll always feel comfortable and loved around him.

my entire screen just changed color at me for a second I got a notification yelling at me to go the fuck to sleep ok I guess that's the end of my ramble goodnight byeeee friend talk to you in the morning <3

Sonny was absolutely terrified.

When the man awoke inside that computer everything hurt. Everything. He could barely see and his throat was raw with pain, could barely even talk at first.

Before the hate, there was fear.

The reason Sonny had did what he had done was out of pure, undiluted guilt for all that he had done. He was far from the first victim, and he was definitely not the last. He never liked Kinito while in there. He always saw that computer as a specially crafted digital nightmare just for him, a purgatory that properly punished him for what he allowed to occur.

Kinito didn't understand why at first. He didn't understand why Sonny would have done what he did in the first place. The memories of that scene were terrifying, etched into his being, his code.

It's a memory that still stretches out of his influence, even when he doesn't intend it. Everything is his code, so that awful night had lingered in it.

Why do you think Sam had that rope around his neck, afterall?

It was only a year or so into the nightmare before Sonny realized he could do something about it. After seeing many victims, trying so hard to reach out to any of them to set him free, to delete him, the servers, anything

None of that worked of course, but it gave him at least the littlest bit of hope. For a while.

[themadknightuniverse]

10 films i love

tagged by @michaelmandog 💖 thank you!!

No particular order

Mad Max Fury Road — It's a movie often mistaken for having a story that can be written on a post-it, meanwhile it's actually speaking about a LOTS of different things and there is a lot to say. An absolute favorite, I never get tired to see it over and over again, it still keeps its power. It drains your energy, it's aggressive, frantic. The most striking images made with a complex storyboard so all the action is legible and understandable. Every images tell something, some are literal illustrations (and there are plenty of them). The COLORS work. The designs (I still see details I haven't seen before). The music. The absolute pleasure they took in some scenes just for the fun/dabass look of it all. And the vast list of subjects the movie speaks about (Patriarchy, women status, cults, human status, society organization/functionality, inequalities, climate change, PTSD, the will to take control over your life back, the economy system in a destroyed world, ...) and even if it's addressed with a few words or images, it's there, it's impactful. One of the rare sequel that does it better than the first movies. I could speak about it for hours.

Interstellar — Space, sciences, love. A story that speaks about its characters through a space journey. The emotional scenes always get me. The images and music are haunting me.

You were never really here — A movie that tells the story of a hero failing. I rarely see this in movies and this one does it and does it with a special care for the general ambiance. Very contemplative, it tells everything through the visuals. It has one of the most beautiful scene I ever seen in a movie. The camera work is also very interesting. Also expect some very difficult subjects.

The Green Knight — Dark fantasy, poesy, heavy symbolism (like, it's basically only that from first frame to the last) and philosophical journey, real bold choices, striking imagery, brilliant soundtrack, something I was waiting to see since forever in the dark fantasy world.

The Sisters Brothers — A western. Contemplative but not devoid of action scenes nor dialogs. Imagery carefully done, one of my favorite nightmare scene in a movie too, even if it's short.

Prisoners — I love Denis Villeneuve's work and I had to pick only one so I went for the first movie from him I've seen. That movie is an absolute big slap in the face. Amazing character writing. The soundtrack is from Jóhann Jóhannsson and everything he did speaks to my soul.

The Dark Knight — Heath Ledger's performance. That's it.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier — I had to name one Marvel movie, I just love that license. And this one is the best and most interesting to me. Steve and Bucky are in love and they can't avoid fighting each other. Actions scenes quite ruined by the amount of damn shaky cam but still, knife fights. And Bucky is hot as hell. I don't need more arguments.

Moulin Rouge! — I really don't like musicals. Yet here it is, in my top fav movies. It's super pretty and original in the imagery. The songs choices are just that good. And the story is more than heartbreaking.

Come True — Horror movie. My absolute favorite dreams/nightmares scenes ever, it's aesthetically pleasing especially if you like the work of very dark smoky tones, heavy symbolism, haunting and efficient. I recommend to go in blindly for the best effect. The ending can be deceptive but still the journey is really worth it. Be careful if you're experimenting sleep paralysis tho, that's a huge subject and visual content of the movie.

tagging : not comfortable with tagging people, do it if you feel like it! 💞

[kaiastory]

“Inside or outside the computer, no nightmares can be escaped from.”

─

As a virtual Barbie, Kaia lived inside a computer. Most of the time, she stayed behind the screen, but on special occasions, she had the chance to step out of the digital world and into The Dollhouse—a magical place full of Barbies and Kens.

This story happened on one of those rare nights when Kaia was outside her computer. It all began with something she absolutely hated—horror movies.

Barbie Doll—Kaia’s roommate—on the other hand, loved them. She enjoyed the thrill and suspense, while Kaia preferred to stick to cheerful, pastel-colored stories. But that night, Barbie Doll had insisted they watch a new horror movie together. They weren’t going to a theater or watching it in The Dollhouse, though. No, they were going to watch it on Kaia’s computer house.

Despite her initial reluctance, Kaia eventually gave in. "Maybe I’m not such a scaredy-cat anymore," she thought. Maybe, just this once, she could handle it.

So, they sat down on Barbie Doll’s cozy bed in front of Kaia’s little computer home, streaming the movie. From the very first scene, Kaia knew she’d made a mistake. Her heart raced with every jump scare, and by the end of the movie, she was holding back tears, scared out of her mind. But she didn’t want to admit it to Barbie Doll.

As soon as the movie ended, Kaia rushed Barbie Doll to finish their girls night and retreated to her digital bedroom. She tucked herself into her bed, hoping that sleep would help her shake off the lingering fear.

That’s when the nightmare truly began.

Kaia woke up to the sound of rustling papers. The decorative papers she had used to cover the walls of her computer house were moving, though there was no breeze. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, the after-effects of the horror movie playing tricks on her. But the sound grew louder, like the papers were flapping wildly.

Then, she felt it.

Something was moving in her bed. No, not just moving—*running*. Whatever it was, it was dashing back and forth across the mattress, right next to her. Panic gripped Kaia as she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it was all a dream. But when she opened them, she realized with dread that it wasn’t.

This was real.

Frozen with fear, Kaia listened as her beloved dolls and plushies began to fall off their shelves, one after another. Thud. Thud. Thud. Something unseen was knocking them down, and the eerie rhythm of their falls only heightened her terror.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and Kaia pulled the blanket over her head, curling into a ball. She cried silently, too scared to move, too scared to scream. But the noises only grew louder—the rustling, the frantic footsteps on her bed, the crashing of her toys. It was as if the whole room was alive with invisible, malevolent forces.

For what felt like an eternity—though it was only forty minutes—Kaia lay there, trembling. Finally, she knew she couldn’t stay in her bed any longer. She had to get out, had to escape. Her only thought was to reach Barbie Doll, who was sleeping soundly in her bed back in The Dollhouse.

Summoning every bit of courage she had, Kaia bolted out of her bed, leaped out of the computer, and ran straight for Barbie Doll’s bed. She practically dove under Barbie’s covers, clutching onto her roommate as if her life depended on it. Barbie Doll stirred, startled but still half-asleep, and barely reacted as Kaia pressed herself close, trembling with fear.

Kaia stayed like that all night, sticking to Barbie Doll’s side, too terrified to go back to her own bed. She only felt a sense of safety once the sun finally rose.

When Barbie Doll woke up in the morning, confused by Kaia’s presence in her bed, she asked what had happened. Kaia explained everything—the rustling papers, the running on her bed, the falling dolls. By the time she was done, Barbie’s face had gone pale. She was just as frightened as Kaia was, and before long, both of them were crying.

They spent the morning clinging to each other, too scared to even think about what had happened the night before. Whatever it was, neither of them wanted to experience it again.

And from that day forward, Kaia swore she would never watch another horror movie—not in this world, or any other.

The end.

[practically-an-x-man]

OC ask meme!

1, 6, 12, 13, 23, 27

ooh, thank you! and I got your second ask with "the trio" (Robin, Jasper, and Prometheus), so here we go! answers are under the cut like usual

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

Robin: I wouldn't say she's associated with a particular color (maybe red for her hair?). She likes to wear dark green though, and her mission suit is the X-Men blue and yellow

Jasper: Again, no set color associations, but they wear a lot of black

Prometheus: Warm colors, for all the fire symbolism. Normally they wear a white chiton.

6. how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?

Robin: Look, you try taming down curls like that! Usually she just ties it back in a bun or ponytail, maybe a braid if she's got the time for it. She doesn't care all that much, as long as it's out of her face and isn't in complete disarray

Jasper: they've got a buzz-cut and have it split-dyed, but they re-dye it pretty often and with different colors. It's too short to have any major bad hair days, but they are pretty careful about not letting the roots grow in too much before they dye it again.

Prometheus: honestly, I don't really think about this character's hair. I haven't given much thought to their physical appearance, given they're supposed to be usable as a reader-insert in the fics, so their hair is purely up to the reader's imagination.

12. how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

Robin: At the time of Symphony, she's 30. I don't think I established her birthday in the fic at all, but I envision it being somewhere in July. Usually I pick the birthdays largely at random, since I don't really care about horoscopes or any of that (and birthdays are pretty much random IRL too). She loves celebrating birthdays with her family, but she'd rather celebrate others' than her own.

Jasper: They're 19 at the start of Heartstrings, and their birthday is the day before Halloween. I figured it would be fitting for AHS. They never really gave much stock into birthdays, since they never had a lot of friends or family to celebrate with. But once they start dating Kyle (who gives like 150% into everything he does), he insists on making them feel special on their birthday, and he usually succeeds.

Prometheus: So... this one's tricky. In terms of their entire history, they're maybe 30,000 years old, as one of the earliest nightmares ever created (judging from the Neolithics scene in (Farewell) Wanderlust). However, they've only existed as a dream for the past hundred years or so, and that was after another hundred years caught in between. They don't have a birthday, but I feel like the Corinthian would pick some arbitrary date for them just as an excuse to celebrate. Like most other things, Prometheus finds it a little amusing on the outside, but treasures it more than they'd care to admit

13. what languages do they speak? how fluently?

Robin: she's fluent in English and ASL, and grew up with a little bit of Irish Gaelic in her household. She's also picked up bits and pieces of other languages from her operas and chorus work, but she's by no means fluent in those.

Jasper: they're fluent in English and can speak a bit of Cajun French. They'd like to learn ASL too, to help with their nursing career.

Prometheus: Another tough one... I mean, they're a dream. Is it fair to say every language? Like, they automatically speak their dreamer's native language, but it's easier just to write it all in English.

23. how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

Robin: I feel like she has a very lively voice. Usually she doesn't speak with much of a Deaf accent, given how much vocal training she's done, but it does tend to slip out more when she gets excited, or when she's not using her mutation to process the sound waves. And she's an operatic mezzo-soprano, she absolutely can sing (but you knew that already) :)

Jasper: they have a habit of either talking very fast, or getting so lost in their thoughts (and others' emotions) that they don't really talk at all. As for singing, they're not making it onto The Voice any time soon, but they can carry a tune. And they love to try all the little vocal "effects" when they sing, like Chester Bennington's vocal fry or Hayley Williams' glissandos

Prometheus: I don't have much for their voice itself (it's like the hair question, it's really up to the reader), but they do speak pretty formally as a product of their antiquity. I'd say they can sing, though - I like to imagine them singing lullabies to comfort the dreamers sometimes

27. if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

Robin: She was never much of a sports fan herself, but she'll watch just about anything if it's a get-together with her friends or family. It's about the company, not the sport itself, for her. She did track & field in high school (but had to drop it due to a busy schedule), and isn't above tussling with her siblings once in a while.

Jasper: They absolutely adore playing roller derby, and they'll watch the Olympics when it's on too. They enjoy watching MMA as well - the real stuff, not the overblown WWE wrestling or any of that. They've developed a bit of a fondness for basketball too, since Kyle likes to watch the games.

Prometheus: I feel like if they do have a favorite sport, it's probably something lesser-known and historical like pitz, atya-patya, or harpastum. They're also very disappointed that gladiatorial games no longer exist. They don't exactly play sports as much as engage in life-or-death battles on the regular. Keeps one fit.

[fire-but-ashes-too]

thank youuuu!!

i think i did one with one of my OCs over here (please check it out im really proud of it eheh) but never done this for myself!

*cracks knuckles* here we goooo

are you named after anyone?

yes and no, i just so coincidentially happen to be named after my maternal great grandmother, tho it wasn't intended (at least, not that i know of)

when's the last time you cried?

a few nights ago after i woke up from a nightmare where i had a spider on my feet biting me. dont ask. i panicked.

do you have kids?

nope and i dont intend on having any.

do you use sarcasm?

every day. as much as i can. my beloved sarcasm <3

what's the first thing you notice about people?

not the first thing i notice probably, but the one i remember more vividly, is the voice. i have a sound memory (is that how you call it? i cant remember) so i do this thing sometimes when im bored where i say the same sentence in my head over and over, each time in a different person's voice.

what's your eye color?

very boring brown. my right eye has slightly more greenish tones in it tho.

scary movies or happy endings?

uhmmmmm nice question id also like to know. no idea, it varies from time to time, as long as it's good idc. (rewatching rw&rb for the second time atm hehe)(why did i notice just now that in the red room scene the portrait behind alex while he's waiting for henry is ALEXANDER HAMILTON??? my internal theatre kid is screaming)

any special talents?

I HAVE DOUBLE JOINTED FINGERS. MY THUMB CAN GO UP AND DOWN AND APPARENTLY ITS SCARY BUT ITS SO FUN. and i can bend my fingers more than normal.

i also have a very quick memory and can loop my tongue.

where were you born?

here where i live, in verona :)

what are your hobbies?

an infinite moltitude of things. too many to count.

painting, drawing, writing (duh), reading, doing absolutely nothing, crocheting, doing clay stuff, baking/cooking, making plans on how to jump out of a winfdow in case lessons get too boring, learning progressively concerning and detailed facts about literally anything, acting and watching musicals. that's all that comes to mind rn.

do you have any pets?

none sadly, i've wanted a cat for a very long time, then a rabbit, a hamster, a fish, etc. my parents were always either allergic or against having a pet so i never had one.

any sport you play/played?

im an aerialst! i do aerial silks and aerial hoop and i like to think im pretty good at it (modesty aside its probably the first sport i've ever really been great at so.. yeah.)

when i was little i tred volleyball (a disaster), gymnastics (again, a failure), swimming (not bad but i didn't like it that much), skiing (i only went on winter break tho, and i absolutely despised it, although i won a couple races) and... yeah that's all i've done more than a couple lessons at.

how tall are you?

1,60. short. i think.. 5.2? i use the metric system sorry haha

what's your favourite subject?

uhhhh probably history... yeah. it's the only subject that the more you go into it the more interesting it gets, and it doesnt really grow harder like maths you know.

what's your dream job?

definetly acting. the idea of telling stories by becoming part of the story feels so amazing to me.

the ultimate-dream™️ is acting in a film/series based on a book. the fact that someone views and pictures you as a fictional character, as a character people read about, and talked about... best thing ever.

that's it! thank you so much for reading this far :D

gently tagging @holdmyteaplease @the-chaotic-writer @alhyastarain @jaxypaxyhaxy @dancinginsepia @a-k-oblackhat @ember-writer @justremuslupininamask @ashwithapen @aspiringfictionwriter @yesireadbooks @guessillcallitart @mychemicalwhatever

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

@kaiarchives tagged me in this game that I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before, so that's exciting. The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

1. Are you named after anyone?

No.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last Sunday. I don't think it was for any particular reason, I just had a headache and was feeling down.

3. Do you have kids?

No.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I played a bit of a football as a kid and a bit of volleyball for school. I also did range shooting in my tween years.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Quite a lot. I've been trying to cut back and be a bit more genuine, but my habit for being sarcastic and my generally low moods have given me a bit of Resting Bitch Voice, so people don't always pick up on it.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Facial shape I think. Before I learn someone's name I generally remember them by the shape of their jaw and cheeks.

7. What's your eye color?

Blue, but it's a kinda greyish blue.

8. Scary movies or Happy endings

I like scary movies with happy endings. Give me protagonists who face down with the worst of humanity or the nasties of the world and come out alive and swinging, if not a bit traumatized.

9. Any talents?

I'm told I have a way with words. In general I don't believe in talent in the "innate skill" way though.

10. Where were you born?

Oslo, Norway.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, movies, video games (mostly strategy and roguelikes,) I used to sing in a choir and I kind of want to get back into that.

12. Do you have any pets?

No. Haven't really had the opportunity to, but I'd like to get a dog someday.

13. How tall are you?

178 cm, so... what, 5'10?

14. Favorite subject in school

Language and it's not close at all. Social Sciences as a second place I suppose.

15. Dream Job?

Author. Give me a way to live from writing and I'll churn out books at a brazen clip. It might drive me crazy, but it'll be worth it.

As for the tags: @frostedlemonwriter @shay-puppitty @longwuzhere @indigostudies @an-elegant-void @mjjune @marlenadutch @fire-but-ashes-too @meerawrites @sparrowrising @silverslipstream @floweryprosegarden @the-secondborn-of-seven @chishiio @a-had-matter

[shotorozu]

ok ok last one for the day.

katsuki and izuku midoriya are the hottest couple in pro hero hollywood. or they would be if they would stop fucking with people in public.

like yeah, they're everybody's dream guys, but instead seeing them as dreams, they're constantly prancing around being the japanese equivalents of martin freeman and anthony mackie.

reporter: so deku can you tell us why it took you so long to apprehend the vilain this morning?

deku: well we chased him so hard that he ate shit and after catching him me and kacchan spent 37 minutes and 43 seconds laughing in his face.

reporter: *so done with these fucking losers* thank you, deku. please keep doing your best.

deku: *literally smiling like a ray of light* of course!

bakugou: *just coming back from chatting with cops* did you tell the dude how that extra ate shit.

reporter, while deku and bakugou start dying laughing again: *tiredly* this has been the news.

i don’t necessarily ship them but this is funny LMAO

like separately— reporters and everyone in PR like them just fine. bakugou? he definitely had a colorful vocabulary, but hey, when reporters ask him the really interesting questions, he’ll deliver on the answers. (but ngl getting interesting questions from reporters are rare for bakugou since reporters kinda ask him the same (ex: you took down that villain today, yes? you were in top speed, did you break your record in villain takedowns?) but again i kinda don’t blame him that man is something else 😭 /lh)

as for izuku, he’s either a heaven sent or kind of a mess 💀 again, the reporters like him more than bakugou because of how nice and sunshine-y he is. it’s definitely a nice break from getting lambasted /hj

(at the same time, he’s so authentic it hurts 😨 and i mean it in the way that he’ll give a really detailed answer in such a short amount of time AND sometimes he’ll go off track but its okay because he’s the number 1 hero, right 😃 but it’s still kind of hell for reporters because they gotta think of a quick and witty response 😭 poor them sometimes 💀)

but put those two together 😭 romantically or platonically— they’d be every reporter’s (and also every pr employee’s) worse nightmare because 😭😭 they’re a mess together whether they realize it or not and even when they do realize it it kinda gets messier but hey! the memes

like there’s this one comic i saw of izuku giving a response in an interview and bakugou just runs into the frame and screams at him randomly— and izuku laughs, being alarmed 😭 (it was also based off an actual interview, though idk which one ☹️💀) and i think that’s pretty accurate. they’re so chaotic in media.

but this is absolute hell when they actually need to be professional and serious 💀 both of their pr teams are always this 🤏 close to just crying on the floor that one midsommar scene style every time they’re supposed to be giving a professional-yet-authentic response to reporters, and even press conferences because it’s almost impossible when those two are in the same frame istg

[musings-of-a-college-dork]

Nightmares and Soft Words

Dabi x fem!Reader

I realized I write a lot and I never publish any of it, a lot of original work but a lot of fanfic as well so I figured why not put it on the internet. This is part of a longer piece so it feels more like a scene than a completed work but here you go!

Background: Y/n’s quirk is Reactive Adaptation and she is a civilian taken captive by the LOV. She has a bit of a mysterious past...but all of this can be read as a stand alone.

“Hey we’ve gotta go. Boss just called and said the pros are pretty much at our doorstep.”

“Shit. Did they get the things moved over to the other lab?”

“Some but not all. Boss said to dispose of the evidence that we can’t move.”

“What about her?” 

Silence. 

“Boss said to dispose of all the evidence-”

“But we can’t!”

“Do you really want to go against the boss’ orders?”

“...No...but I can’t do it either.”

“Fine. Then I will.” 

The second y/n sat up from her spot on the floor of the blonde’s room, she clasped her hand over her mouth as she had done so many night’s before, trying to force the scream back but it was far too late for that. 

If anyone hears you-

“The hell do you think you're doing screaming at three in the morning, doll,” 

Came a snarl from the doorway of the room. She cursed herself as her eyes flickered in the voice’s direction. 

There Dabi stood in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, wiping the sleep from his eyes, a pissed off look present on his face at being so rudely woken up. He leaned up against the doorway, lit up by the light that streamed in from the hallway. Y/n swallowed, hard.

Damnit.

She removed her hands from her mouth and instead covered her eyes as she pulled her knees to her chest, bracing for something...anything.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized without a second thought, “I didn’t mean...I’m...” She couldn’t even get the words out from how badly she was shaking.

“Doesn’t matter if you meant it or not,” Dabi grumbled as he pushed off of the doorway and made his way over to her. She kept her hands over her eyes as he approached making him scowl. If she’s going to make such a commotion in the middle of the night then she should damn well have the audacity to look me in the eyes after-

Dabi’s thoughts were cut short as the light hit her still trembling form. Her usually pale skin had gone a metallic silver in color causing the light from the hallway to reflect off of her. Despite this, he could see the sweat that had managed to soak through her thin excuse for a nightgown and coated her skin. He ceased to move for a moment, hesitating before kneeling down.

He reached for her to remove her hands from her eyes and she instantly flinched away from his grasp, a little shock of electricity radiating off of her when he grabbed her hands. Unlike her, he didn’t flinch at all as he pulled her hands from her face, grabbing her wrists with one of his hands to keep her from bringing them back up.

Her face was stained with tears, eyes puffy, and chest heaving as she refused to meet his eyes. The girl instead opted to tilt her head down and look at the floor, trying her best to not hyperventilate. This was absolutely unacceptable in the man’s eyes. 

Dabi reached his free hand up and grabbed the girl’s chin, roughly turning her face up to meet his.

“Look at me, doll,” He commanded and surprisingly, she complied with his request. As her teary eyes met his piercing blue ones, he felt his heart stop a bit.  

Nightmare. He knew the signs all too well. 

He continued to scan her, examining every inch of her trembling form but mainly keeping his focus on her face. Us? No, he thought as his brows furrowed, her being metal wouldn’t protect her from anyone except Toga and this is...this is different. This is what I look like when I dream of-

The sheer shock of the thought made Dabi draw his hands back as if she had burned him, the girl looking away from him as soon as possible. 

She didn’t want him to see her like this...so...broken. As much as she wished the burnt man would evaporate into thin air so he wouldn’t be able to see how she shook like a leaf, a part of her didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again. 

She waited, waited for him to do anything, to yell at her, to make a snarky comment, something. Instead, she was met with silence as he sat down in front of her, his gaze still locked on her. In response to his lack of...well anything, she turned her focus to her heart rate finally decreasing enough for her skin to fade back at least part way into its natural state. 

Dabi watched her for a moment longer before standing and disappearing from the room. Y/n felt her heart sink for a moment before shaking her head to try and pull her from her thoughts. Stop it, she scolded herself as she pulled her knees to her body, you should be glad he’s gone. Besides...he left the door open. Y/n’s head shot up at this realization, her eyes instantly darting towards the door and the light that seemed to beckon her into the hallway. 

The girl considered her options for a moment more before her body began to move on it’s own, rising from where she had been curled up on the cold stone floor. She didn’t even feel her feet hit the ground as she padded over to the door, only to have a shadow cast over her small form.

“You really don’t learn, do ya?” Dabi sighed as he stood between her and the hallway, a plastic cup in his hand. She held his eye contact, still looking like a deer in headlights. He chuckled as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Y/n instantly backed up as if she couldn’t even be in his aura’s radius which made the man shake his head as he held the cup out to her. 

“Drink.” 

The girl looked up at him, a mix of fear and confusion written in her eyes as she glanced at the cup. She didn’t step forward to take it from him, merely staring it down.

“Problem?” 

“How do I know it isn’t drugged?” She asked in a timid voice as her eyes met his. The man shrugged indifferently.

“You don’t. Gonna have to hedge your bets, doll.” Y/n considered it for a moment but despite her better judgment, she took the cup from his hands. She examined it for a moment, swirling the liquid this way and that before finally sighing. She took a sip, knowing that even if it was drugged it would wash the taste of metal and leather from her mouth and maybe it would help her sleep through the night. The first sip of water circulated through her body but the cold liquid didn’t do much to stop the shivering. 

“Thank you,” She said after a moment. She wanted to bite her tongue or take it back, not wanting to thank one of her captors despite him not having done anything to harm her. He was only helping out his friend after all by keeping her here. 

Dabi nodded as he stayed where he was, his arms crossed as he opted to lean against the door he had closed only moments before. 

Y/n eyed him over the rim of the plastic cup, not sure what to do in this situation. Why is he still here? Maybe it actually is drugged and he’s just waiting… 

“Do you want me to leave?” The villain asked, as if he had read her mind. Y/n opened her mouth to say yes but the word didn’t form. There was no reason for him to be here but...

She shook her head.

Dabi nodded. He just stood there, his gaze examining Toga’s room. It had been a while since he’d been inside the girl’s room and she had shifted it a bit to accommodate her...guest. She had moved the bed just enough to place a blanket down on the floor for the girl and, well other than that, it looked the same as usual.

“Did I wake you up?” His gaze snapped to the girl. Her focus was on the cup of water despite having just asked him a question. 

“Surprised you didn’t wake the whole building with your screaming.” He bit back, trying to get a response from her. The girl merely shrugged, her focus still on the cup as she swirled the liquid in it. Realizing that trying to get a rise from her was useless he sighed with a little shake of his head.

“No, just couldn’t sleep,” He said with another shrug.

“Are you having nightmares too?” For once the burnt man didn’t have anything to say, prompting y/n to actually steal a glance at her captor. Maybe he was- A dark, low, chuckle cut her off, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as she looked at the villain. 

“Not so timid anymore are you, doll?” He asked after a moment. He looked up and as his flaming blue eyes met hers, she felt her stomach flip. The fact that he lit a finger up with his flames and proceeded to move it through the air in intricate patterns didn’t help her nausea. “You better be careful what you say around here,” He said as he turned his focus to the flame, “You might just set one of us over the edge and you don’t want to know what would happen to you then.” He pointed it at her as he finished, his face stoic as he looked for a response.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” Y/n spoke before she could stop the words, “Maybe the goal is to piss you off until you snap and kill me.” The silence was deafening. Shit, Y/n swore wishing she could take it back. Instead she sipped her water. 

If I keep drinking this I can’t say anything else stupid. 

“You’re still shivering.” Y/n looked up to find Dabi looking at her, the flame in his hand extinguished. His eyes didn’t hold any rage or anger as she feared they would. Instead they were...soft? No...that wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” She said almost subconsciously with a little sigh. She continued to clutch the cup, running her fingers over the little ridges on the sides. Anything to distract herself. 

“You cold?” 

“Yeah.” Dabi let out a little hum and noticed that y/n’s cup was empty. Without another word he took it from her hands and set it down beside her on the floor. He then began to move putting y/n on high alert. He reached for her and instantly her skin went metallic once more as she tensed up, her arms going out in front of her defensively. 

“Relax,” Dabi commanded her upon noticing the silver sheen returning to her pale skin. He held his hands up in a surrender of sorts, “I’m not going to hurt you.” Y/n’s skin still stayed metallic but was able to slow her breathing a little bit as she realized that the man truly hadn’t hurt her yet. Sure, he had lit his flames in threat before but he’d never actually laid a finger on her. 

“What do you want me to do?” She asked as she pulled her hands into her chest defensively.  He nodded and stood up before walking over to the bed. 

“The floor is cold and you’re still shivering,” He said as he opened up the covers for her, “Get into the bed.” 

Y/n stayed frozen in place, her eyes nervously darting from him to where he was gesturing for her to be. “I’m not allowed, I don’t think-”

“I don’t care,” Dabi said simply holding her gaze, “She’s not here and she’ll be more pissed if you’re too tired when she’s in a mood to play.” Y/n still stayed frozen, weighing his words over.

“Now, doll. I don’t have all night,” He said as he rolled his eyes. At last, y/n made her way across the room towards the man. She looked down at where he held the covers open before slowly crawling under them. She laid down initially stiff as a rod but upon feeling how surprisingly soft the bed was she couldn’t help but relax, letting out a soft sigh of relief as she sunk into the sea of pillows. Dabi fought back a smile as he closed the blanket. He then shrugged off his shirt, quietly as to not disturb the moment of peace she was having. Y/n then felt the bed dip and shot straight up. She turned to look behind her to find the now shirtless man laying next to her on the bed, his eyes closed originally but opening in a sleepy annoyed way. She scanned him quickly, a blush coming to her cheeks and she just hoped that her current metallic state would cover it up.

“What are yo-” Dabi didn’t let her get another word in before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pushing her so that she was laying down once more. 

“Be quiet,” he growled in a low tone that made her tense up once more before she let out a sigh, his grip on her loosening a bit. “Go to sleep.”

“But-“ y/n let out a little yelp as Dabi flipped her body so he was on top of her, the covers still separating them much to y/n’s thanks. He leaned in far too close for comfort, making her breath hitch as the heat radiated off of him in waves.

“If you need something to tire you out, doll, I am more than happy to oblige,” he whispered into the crook of her neck. Her body had absolutely frozen underneath him and not a single sound came from her leading him to smirk. That did the trick. He moved back to his original position and pulled her covered body tighter to his through the layer of blankets. 

“Then go to sleep.” He commanded as he felt her body go a bit more slack. This wasn’t due to the fact that she felt calm at the thought of this literally super villain sharing a bed with her, no. Despite knowing what he had done, what he continued to do...she couldn’t help but want more of the warmth he gave off. 

The villain couldn’t help but smile as the girl scooted closer to him, the silver sheen disappearing as her breathing evened out. He then realized what he was doing with a grimace, pulling away which elicited a pouty little huff from the now sleeping girl. He continued to keep his arms close to his chest before letting out a sigh and holding her once more, earning a contented hum from y/n as she slept. 

What the hell are you doing to me? He thought as he drifted off...

[morifinwes]

wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

OR

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

-------------------------------------

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

 

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

 

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

 

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

 

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

[nightcolorz]

Random Gotham Rogues Headcanons

(In honor of all the wonderful people who wanted more after my last post, yes I see y’all)

*Jonathan has a huge sweet tooth, the poor bastard didn’t try sugar until he was like 12 and eats candy like it’s his last meal.

*He’ll forget he needs food to live for way too long and eat a gallon of ice cream or some shit that’ll give any sensible man heart palpitations and just be like “😐👍”.

*Selina tells the newer rogues she was raised by cats to freak them out, Jervis still believes her. (Tbf, Selina does walk around with a cat tail on hissing at people and purring on their laps, I don’t blame him).

*Edward has a tiktok account that he made to fule his own ego, he’s a fragile little shit, literally all of his hate comments have video responses (as you can imagine, Edward gets A LOT of hate comments).

*One time a teenager called Edward “submissive and breedable” and he was too baffled to make a clap back.

*The Rogues have a surprising amount of stans. Ivy’s fan base consists mostly of lowly simps, Joker gets stopped on the street daily by greasy redditors and zealous scene kids.

*No one likes Joker, he thinks it’s because he’s “Batman’s favorite” (it’s not).

*For a while Joker has been insistent that he fucked Bruce Wayne once at one of his many parties, no one believes him except for Harvey (begrudgingly).

*He says it’s “Perfectly in character for Bruce” as much as he may hate it.

*Selina denies everything.

*Oswald and Jonathan share solidarity as “the weird bird people”. At first Oswald was a little put off that Jonathan only held knowledge of crows but soon got over that when he realized that now he had an excuse to infodump on someone who might actually be interested.

*Every time Jonathan visits Oswald’s aviary to pick up Nightmare and Craw Oswald jumps at the opportunity to talk about his numerous birds in excess, Jonathan’s a surprisingly good listener.

*Despite Edward and Joker’s long term rivalry Edward has remained relatively civil when faced with Joker’s constant egging on. That is until one iconic day in Arkham Asylum when Edward beat the absolute, ever loving shit out of Joker in the cafeteria. To this day no one knows what exactly got him to snap, not even Joker.

*Harley keeps a scrapbook about all her misadventures + friendships as a rogue, she has a habit of taking pictures of the others at the most inappropriate times (during a heist, while being beaten to a crisp by Batman, ex).

*One time Harley asked Batman to pose for a picture to put in her scrapbook, he obliged to everyone’s surprise.

*Edward is wholly insistent that he doesn’t belong in Arkham, and is convinced he’s completely sane. He’s weirdly obsessed with the fact that Oswald is sane “as well” and will make unprompted snide remarks like: “Blackgate sounds terrific, unfortunately I’ve been misplaced among MORONS, it’s a shame that the system is too incompetent to properly judge my un-categorizable psyche.”

*Oswald usually responds with a simple “🙂👍” or “ok” to avoid conflict, disagreeing with Edward could be catastrophic.

*Art therapy is an occupational hazard for all the Arkham staff. (Seriously, who thought giving super villains an outlet to express themselves was a good idea).

*Edward can’t draw so he spends his time harshly criticizing the other rogues art, that’s caused more than a few fights. The one time Edward’s ever actually done art in art therapy was when he drew a green triangle and explained in complex detail how he colored it to perfection.

*Jonathan is no longer allowed to share his art with the group before having it reviewed by a staff member after emotionally scarring a few patients. He’s one of the few rogues who presents his art every time, just to see the disturbed looks on the others faces when he explains whatever twisted art piece he came up with this time.

*Jervis is probably the most dedicated artist of the bunch, he‘s not allowed to make himself any hats (for obvious reasons) but he’s still a very skilled seamstress and has a very interesting art style (Jervis tries not to draw anything explicitly linked to Alice in Wonderland in fear of getting repercussions, as rogues often do when they engage with their ‘personas’).

*Harvey isn’t very technically skilled in drawing, but Harv usually spices their art up enough to make it interesting. Their drawings are always two themed, as expected. One time Edward criticized a painting of theirs for being “too unrealistic” and Harv had to manually restrain himself from kicking Edward in the teeth.

*Victor can’t draw either, but he writes pretty good poetry. His writing is excessively melodramatic and flowery, and his themes even more so. Half of the presentation period is spent listening to Victor muse about the meaning of life or some shit, his poems are VERY long.

*Waylon and Ivy are the obligatory pretentious painters, both have a fondness for flowers (for very separate reasons). The two will often compare their paintings and wax poetics about the beauty of nature or some bullshit before never speaking again. That’s one of the positives of Art therapy, it brings rogues together who would otherwise not grant each other a passing glance.

*Group therapy is just as (if not more) atrocious than Art therapy.

*The only one who ever talks is Joker (and sometimes Harley, but way less).

*Joker is the embodiment of an irl troll, he does a much better job at getting responses from the other rogues in therapy than the therapists ever could (usually hostile responses but still).

*Occasionally a new and bright eyed therapist will try and coax childhood memories out of the rogues, it never ends well (usually with the rogue or the therapist in hysterics).

*The majority of the Arkham staff are either terribly unqualified or terrible period.

*Music Meister lived with Edward for a short while after escaping Arkham together but he was promptly kicked out because he wouldn’t stop singing.

*Selina and Ivy had a huge argument once because Selina’s cats nibbled on Ivy’s plants.

Okay this post is all ready super long so I’m gonna end it here, as I said last time I can always make more if you guys like these (I’m not running out of headcanons anytime soon!)