#from the backroom (queue)

[thomasicism]

── #. 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 ; 𝐋&𝐃𝐒

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊?

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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒.

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[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 12: Marking with Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader Word Count: 730 Warnings: Marking, P in V sex, Possessive behavior, Mention of douchebags, Semi-Public sex (Bar bathroom), Hickeys, Biting, Possible unprotected sex (Unspecified).

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

The sounds of both your bodies were echoing off the walls of the dingy bathroom of the Hideout, mixing with Eddie’s heavy breaths and your little whimpers, trying so hard to stay quiet while Eddie made it his life’s mission to make you be as loud as possible.

The porcelain sink was cold under your touch as you leaned over it, ass in the air with your little skirt flipped up over your hips, panties dangling around your knees while the metal head behind you pounded away, filling your pussy over and over again.

“C’mon, Sweetheart…Let’em hear how good I make you feel…” He urged with a feral grin.

A shiver ran up your spine as you bit your lip, letting out another breathy moan that you buried in the crook of your elbow.

Tonight is Corroded Coffins’ normal night to play at the local bar, and you’d attended as you often do to support your boyfriend and his friends.

The thing that made this time different, was the trio of young men seated at the bar, colorful polos with popped collars, quaffed hair and arrogant smirks. They reminded you of Steve, but far douchier than he could have ever dreamed of being.

One had eyed you when you entered, making rude comments as you passed by on the way to the backroom, in spite of the fact you were walking hand in hand with Eddie.

“Bet I could fuck’er better than that loser…” You recalled hearing among other things, far filthier things.

You’d felt Eddies hold on your hand grow tighter, not out of anger at you, no it was all at the other male. Eddie had a possessive streak, and this stranger had just trampled all over it.

It wasn’t often that your boyfriend felt the need to stake his claim, but when he did, he made sure it was very clear.

Often times he would just make you cry out in ecstasy, screaming his name and begging him to make you cum. But this time it felt different, you had a feeling that wouldn’t be enough for him.

So, you reached back toward him, tugging him by the hand till he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back, and tilted your head, baring your neck to him.

He let out a breathy chuckle and you could feel his hair brushing your bare shoulder as he pressed his forehead to the back of your head. “God, I love you…” He groaned, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Show them…” Was all you said, voice airy and more than a little desperate.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He purred before you felt his soft full lips press to your heated skin, a light touch followed closing by the sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh, not enough to break skin but plenty to leave a beautiful mark that would be a vivid purple in a matter of a few minutes, then he left another, and another.

The sensation had you clenching down on him, earning you a moan from deep in his chest, muffled by where his mouth is occupied. That was his queue to continue his previous task.

He had a needy girl to get off.

His hips returned to their punishing rhythm as he leaned back and brough you with him, causing you to arch your back and press back into his every thrust.

His lips remained attacked to your neck, sucking a smattering of smaller marks to decorate the collum of your neck before switching to the other side to make sure that they would be visible from every side.

 The dull sting of each one just sent new shocks of pleasure across your skin, driving you closer and closer to your peak.

It was with a cry that you came whimpering his name, voice echoing off the walls in a way that felt so loud in your ears, but you didn’t care, not when he attached his teeth to the curve of your neck and growled.

“That’s my girl.” He groaned as he finished, face buried right where his teeth had just been.

After cleaning up, and a quick check in, you both left the bathroom hand in hand, your hair now tied up to show off the new accessories now blooming on your skin.

The look on the assholes face was truly priceless.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

[annabelle--cane]

Hello!

You’ve said that you fly on planes pretty often… As someone who’s never been on a plane before, could you tell me about what it’s like riding in a plane for the first time/some things you’ve learned to do to make it an easier experience?

Hope you’ve been doing well <3

with the qualifiers that while I used to fly a lot, I haven't since late 2019 + different airlines have extremely varying standards for comfort + I'm white and able bodied so there are a lot of common concerns that I've never had to think about:

-> being in an airport is first and foremost about waiting around and doing nothing. you queue to check your bag, you queue to go through security, you sit at your gate for a while after the inevitable delays to your takeoff time, you wait for your boarding group to be called, you queue in the group itself to get on the plane, eventually you queue to get off the plane, you queue to go through customs, and then you wait while staring aimlessly at some kind of hypnotic carousel of nearly identical black suitcases to collect your checked luggage. you can either gaslight yourself into believing that there is enjoyment to be found in waiting in huge lines or you can lose yourself to the queue madness.

-> speaking of the hypnotic bag carousel, it'll be easier to pick out your checked bags on sight if they're more distinct looking. if you've got some brightly colored suitcases, use those, otherwise they might pass you by three times before you spot them.

-> if you have a tendency to get car sick or sea sick or anything then I'd recommend bringing some anti nausea medication, in my experience most flights aren't particularly bumpy but better safe than sorry. plane bathrooms can be kinda nasty, if you're concerned about hygiene then you might want to bring some surface wipes. they tend to blast the AC, and the blankets they give out are static electricity central, so I'd recommend wearing a good jacket/cardigan and maybe bringing a small TSA approved(tm) sized bottle of hand cream.

-> if something about the processes of bag checking, security, boarding, customs, etc. is confusing you, you'll likely be in a group of dozens of people trying to do the same thing and you can ask around to see if someone if willing to explain.

-> your airline will probably tell you how early before your flight you should to get to the airport, and I would always advise arriving even earlier than that. ex., I've had a lot of experiences where getting there three hours before an international flight was technically enough time, but I had to rush everything and only got to my gate at the last minute. I would a hundred times over prefer to window shop in the expensive tech stores on the other side of security for half an hour than have to book it with my carry on down a huge backrooms looking empty hallway just to barely make it in time.

-> this could easily be a me thing but I've found the version of myself that exists on airplanes only wants to entertain herself with activities that I would never consider with my feet on solid ground. I enter an airplane and suddenly voraciously want to do a crossword and listen to europop. basically, if you're nervous about the flying itself, then I'd suggest planning to do something fun and kind of novel so you can have something a bit special to look forward to.

-> if you've got a window seat, look out the window! look at your city from above and either have an existential crisis or develop a god complex, it's great. watching a sunrise while flying over the ocean is basically like inventing a religion.

[ozzgin]

(Not a request. Just a talk here.)

There’s not enough fanfics of Urban Legends and Lovecraftian Eldritch stuffs. I love the Yanderes of them. <3

On the topic of urban legends/ abstract horror, I do have two requests I plan to work on very soon once I clear up some of the second-part queue: Aka Manto and a Backrooms-inspired entity.

I can also guarantee you that whenever I use "Eldritch" for a work, it's Lovecraft inspired (it's the only meaning I know).

I'd love to write more genuine, Lovecraftian horror once I have some time to spare. I actually just finished reading The Transition of Juan Romero*, and it's interesting to see where Lovecraft's cosmic horror actually started. Would make a nice yandere story too.

Picture it: You're a geologist of the early 1900s, summoned for an emergency inspection at a gold mine somewhere in the US. Upon drilling underneath what was assumed to be hard rock, the men have uncovered an abyss yawning into the depths of Earth with no end in sight. At night you hear an unexplainable rhythm, like Oriental drums and chaotic chanting, calling you back into the deep, mysterious cavern. You sneak away and discover its bowels glowing red with fierce flames, and a name suddenly carves itself into your mind: Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec God of Sun and War. What could an ancient Deity want from you?

*Really just a side note, but I'm currently going through my annotated book and if you're into Lovecraft I can absolutely recommend it to you! This part has the early, lesser known works with a lot of commentary and explanations.

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 2

Episode 9: Christmas Danger

'Twas the season to be jolly. The entire city was decked with tinsel, Christmas trees and lights, including the City Hall. That morning, there was a charitable breakfast going on in one of the historic building's many function rooms and Captain Man and Kid Danger were heading the food distribution. 

Ray had been doing it for a few years now, as a way of repaying the citizens that idolised him. Strolling out from the backroom, Henry smirked at the cheering crowd and took his place behind a microphone stand.

"Good morning." He smiled at the applauding people, well, everyone but a grouchy lady in the middle of the floor.

"Well, it's December twenty-fourth and that means, welcome to Captain Man's third annual Christmas Breakfast!" Henry announced, making the cheers grow even louder. Everyone loved that Captain Man did this.

"Thank you, that's nice. You know, it's really great to be he--" Henry's little speech was cut off by the grouchy lady shouting over him.

"Hey! Shut up and feed us!" She yelled and her peculiar dress sense made Henry think she was a man. Oh, no...

"Just a moment, sir." He said to her, thinking he was being polite and respectful.

"I'm a woman!" She snapped, frowning as Henry gulped.

"Sorry, ma'am. And now, I present your handsome host, the guy who paid for all this, Swellview's most important citizen, Captain Man!" Henry introduced his big-headed boss, who walked out to balloons falling from the ceiling. 'I bet (y/n) didn't help him with those crappy lines.' Henry rolled his eyes internally, already bored with Ray's self-indulgent attitude. 

"All right, everybody get up here and taste the Christmas!" Henry told the crowd as he and Ray stood behind the food table with the other volunteers.

"Here, kid. Put this on." Ray gave Henry a hairnet as people started to queue for their food. 

"Ew, I don't wanna wear a hairnet." Henry grimaced, thinking he was gonna look like a right idiot with one on.

"You have to wear one, you're serving food. It's city law." Ray told him and Henry took it begrudgingly and pulled it over his head. 

"Hey, how come you're not wearing a hairnet?" Henry asked in confusion when he saw that the superhero was waiting to serve without something covering his hair.

"Lots of reasons. First, I'm Captain Man, second, I'm very handsome and I don't wear hairnets." Well, those were pathetic excuses. Henry had a sneaking suspicion that Ray would get his comeuppance at some point but chose to stay quiet as the first citizens came down the line.

"Hey, are these reindeer eggs locally sourced?" The angry woman from before asked.

"Uh, uh, I don't know." Captain Man stuttered. How was he supposed to know where the eggs came from?

"Well, I don't eat eggs unless they were locally sourced." She snapped in a Karen voice. 

"Okay...good for you," Ray replied slowly and went to get some pancakes for her. This woman was a weirdo.

"Hey, why aren't you wearing a hairnet?" The woman asked another question and was starting to get on Ray's nerves. He gave up decorating the Man Cave's Christmas tree with (y/n) for this so he was annoyed that this woman was being so picky. He could have stayed home and danced around under the twinkling lights with his girl in fluffy socks, but no. He was giving back to Swellview's citizens from the kindness of his heart. 

"Uh, lots of reasons. One--" He began to retell his list to her, but this grouchy lady had an agenda.

"Shut up!" She growled loudly, making Ray looked at her cynically. If she wanted an argument, he'd give her an argument.

"You know, I'm guessing you don't get invited to a lot of parties." He told her in a sugary sweet voice, so she sighed in anger and walked off with a plateful of breakfast.

"Hey, Captain Man, Captain Man." The Vice-Mayor came over and took Ray away from the food line.

"Ah, yes, Vice-Mayor Willer." Ray greeted warmly since he'd met the man many times before.

"Hi, there's a reporter here from KLVY News. She wants to do an interview with you." The Vice-Mayor told him and Ray swallowed nervously.

"It's not Evelyn Hall, is it?" The superhero asked, hoping to God it wasn't. She was another failed attempt at him trying to save (y/n) from his unrequited love and it had ended rather messily, like most of his romantic encounters.

"I believe it is." The man confirmed, not seeing why he seemed so jumpy.

"Oh, crud. Hey, listen--" Ray tried to nip the possibility of an interview in the bud, but the Vice-Mayor was all too keen for it to happen. He didn't know that Ray couldn't bring himself to text another girl when (y/n) snuggled into him on the couch, it would just feel hollow and loveless. It wouldn't bring the same flutter in his heart when she smiled at him. It just wouldn't feel the same.

"I'll bring her over." The man walked away to grab the reporter, making Ray cringe and grunt in frustration. This was gonna be awkward.

"What's the problem?" Henry asked his boss when he saw how uncomfortable he looked.

"I took this reporter out on a date last week and I told her I'd text her the next day and I didn't," Ray told him ashamedly, biting his lip.

"Oh right, 'cause you're in love with (y/n)." Henry teased him, knowing that Ray could lie to himself all he wanted, but he'd never get away from the truth that he'd die for the woman back in the Man Cave. It killed the boy that he couldn't tell him she felt the same way and she had been sniffly all morning when he was on the date with the pretty reporter. Being sworn to secrecy sucked.

"Shut up, shut up!" Ray hissed as the Vice-Mayor returned with a stony-faced Evelyn Hall following behind him. Wow, she looked pissed.

"And here's Captain Man." The politician introduced the sheepish superhero, who smiled anxiously.

"Yeah, I see him," Evelyn said flatly, any previous admiration she had for Ray gone. She didn't know what she expected; for the entirety of their date his focus seemed to be on someone else and she had gotten the feeling that Captain Man had another girl in his life.

"Uh, hey, look. I was gonna text you and--" Ray started awkwardly.

"But you didn't." She said in a depressed voice, making Ray feel a bit bad. He hated that he lead on so many girls, but he didn't know how to cope with his growing feelings for his best friend, so he just kept dating and hoped that he'd find some subpar placebo that would satisfy his aching heart.

"Uh, Evelyn..." He had to plaster a fake smile on his face as she turned to her camera crew and began her report.

"I'm here at City Hall with Kid Danger." She said bitterly, ignoring that Ray was also behind her. 

"And Captain Man." He said quietly when she failed to mention him.

"Kid Danger, Christmas question. If you went on a date with a girl..." She started, putting Henry in a very awkward position. He didn't want to be in the middle of Ray and a scorned woman, he just wanted to serve some food.

"Here it comes..." Ray breathed out. He should've realised that none of this would have ever happened if he had just told (y/n) that he loved her during one of his many opportunities.

"...And you promised to text the girl the next day, what would you do?" She scowled as Ray leaned around Henry so he could get near the microphone.

"Can you not do this?" He asked, knowing that his sweet girl was probably at home watching the news coverage on his annual breakfast event. He didn't want her to see that he was a loser when it came to love. He wanted to impress her so she'd maybe, possibly, perhaps briefly consider that he could fill the shoes of the man of her dreams and treat her like a queen for the rest of her life. He'd filled those shoes pretty well, after all, they'd long been in shape for him to step into.

"I--I'd text the girl," Henry answered honestly. He wanted Ray to know that he wouldn't support his cowardly actions. Either he actually considered the feelings of all the girls he dated or he asked (y/n) out. And Henry was in favour of the latter.

"All right, all right, Evelyn. I'm texting you, all right? I'm texting you now and... send." Ray took out his phone stroppily and began to scroll through the names of all the girls he had in his contacts. There was only one he really cared about and her name was highlighted with "Sweet girl" and a little heart next to it. He eventually came to a contact named 'Evelyn' and assumed that it was the right one, so he typed a quick message and sent it off to prove a point. 

"Oh, wait that's a different Evelyn." He cursed mentally as Henry and Evelyn Hall blinked in shock. He needed to get his game together.

"Are you serious?" Henry hissed as Evelyn stormed off in anger, much to Ray's guilt.

"Dude, you know you only care about (y/n) anyway. Let's just go serve the food." Henry said to cheer him up and Ray agreed.

"There he is! Right there!" The angry woman from before marched into the dining area, the chief of police following behind her.

"Wait, you mean Captain Man?" He asked in confusion, looking at how the superhero was busying himself by dishing out eggs, bacon and pancakes.

"Yeah, look at him!" She hissed.

"Oh, come on!" The chief groaned. They began to argue as she insisted that Captain Man be arrested and he insisted that he couldn't lock up the guy who kept the whole city safe. 

"Hello, ma'am, would you like some grits? They're freshly stirred." Ray smiled pleasantly as Evelyn Hall saw her chance to humiliate the man who ghosted her on national TV. 

"Everyone. Everyone, may I have your attention?" The chief reluctantly stood in the middle of the room. He couldn't believe he was about to arrest the city's best crime fighter.

"As Swellview's Chief of Police, I came here this morning to thank Captain Man and Kid Danger for this wonderful Christmas Breakfast." He started, making the crowd applaud and Ray and Henry look at each other bashfully. If only they knew what was coming next.

"Which makes what I must do now very difficult." The Chief sighed and motioned for his officers to put the cuffs on Ray.

"What's going on?" He asked in confusion as the policemen approached him.

"I'm very sorry, Captain Man, but you're under arrest." He was told, making everyone gasp in disbelief. Evelyn Hall just smirked; she was gonna spread this news all over town. 

"Under arrest?" Henry blanched at the revelation as the officers pushed past him and forced Ray's hands behind his back.

"Why am I under arrest?" Ray asked in alarm. He couldn't go to jail, he was a superhero for god's sake, he was a good guy! And he promised (y/n) he'd get home quickly and watch Elf with her. He couldn't let her spend Christmas alone.

"Because it's illegal for you to serve food to the public without wearing a hairnet." The police chief explained, making the grouchy lady smirk in success.

"I told you to put on a hairnet." Henry piped up, making Ray glower at him.

"Will you be quiet? You're seriously arresting me for not wearing a hairnet?!" The large man exclaimed incredulously.

"I have to. It's a class three misdemeanour." The woman pointed to the rule in her book on Swellview's law and Ray paled.

"Seriously? Seriously? Seriously? Seriously?" He repeated over and over again as he was led out and carted off to jail. 

"Seriously?" He asked again as the two officers locked the cell door.

"Please, stop saying seriously." One of them told him since he had said nothing else on the trip to the jailhouse. The word was even written on cell's walls. This was going to be a crappy Christmas, especially since his cell felt cold and lonely with no sweet girl to warm his heart.

~Later that day, Henry's House~

"Well, why didn't you make him wear a hairnet?" Charlotte hissed to Henry as they knelt and decorated the tree in Henry's living room. The girl knew that (y/n) had been Ray's emergency contact and was freaking out at the prospect of her best friend facing being locked up over the holidays.

"I tried. You know how Ray is about his Captain Man hair." Henry scoffed, thinking back to all the times Ray spent ages looking in the mirror to perfect his well-groomed quiff. 

"That's 'cause (y/n) once mentioned that it was her favourite part of his costume and now he's obsessed with impressing her. Anyway, we can't let Ray spend Christmas in jail all alone. (y/n) needs to someone to celebrate with and y'know, kiss under the mistletoe." Charlotte grimaced at the icky thought but knew that they still had to do something.

"Well, how do we get him out?" Henry asked, not knowing how to spring someone from jail. 

"I don't know..." Charlotte sighed, but their attention was grabbed by the doorbell ringing. 

"I'll get it," Henry said and got up to answer the door. He was surprised when a whirl of (y/c/h) hair and two bags of Christmas presents brushed past him quickly.

"Come in?" He said confusedly when he realised that the person was (y/n), who was nervously pacing around his living room. 

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She mumbled as he hyperventilated, her breathing ragged from her mad dash to Henry's house and her incessant panic. Ray was locked up and boy, was she scared.

"Hey, calm down!" Charlotte soothed her by putting her arms on her Christmas sweater-covered arms and motioning her to take some deep breaths.

"Ray's in jail and I can't post bail for some reason and I can't speak to him and oh god, I'm gonna spend Christmas alone!" She rambled, putting her face in her hands as the gift bags slid down her wrists to her elbows. 

"(y/n/n), relax. We're gonna get him outta there. And if not, you can spend Christmas with us." Henry smiled at her gently, like she had done so many times for him. 

"Yeah, you won't be alone." Charlotte grinned and the teary-eyed woman brought them both in for a group hug.

"You guys...oh! These are for you." She remembered what she had brought with her and gave each kid their respective bag filled to the brim with presents she had picked out just for them. She loved giving presents at Christmas and after years of honing her skills, she was great at it.

"Aw, thanks! You didn't have to." Henry and Charlotte smiled gratefully as she blushed, her nerves a lot more settled now that she was around two people she considered to be family.

"Hey, do you wanna help us decorate the tree?" Henry asked her and her eyes lit up when she took notice of the half-decorated thing. This was another tradition she loved and she had been hoping to complete it with Ray like they always did, but obviously, shit happened.

"Yes, please." (y/n) answered cheerfully and knelt on the floor with the kids so they could start from the bottom and work their way up. However, she and Charlotte frowned when Henry lifted a gold bauble to a branch, despite their already being one next to it.

"You can't put to gold balls together." Charlotte frowned and (y/n) agreed with her.

"Yeah, it doesn't work." She added, also thinking that the clashing decorations weren't spaced out enough too.

"Huh?" Henry looked at them puzzled. He didn't have their eye for detail and in his mind, the tree looked fine.

"It's gotta go, gold ball, red ball," Charlotte stated, thinking that the pattern would make the tree look tidy and beautiful.

"Gold ball, red ball." (y/n) carried on, knowing that randomly placed decorations looked stupid. 

"I can totally put two gold balls together," Henry argued.

"No, you can't." The teen girl insisted, looking at the ornaments again and she still thought that they looked like crap. 

"Why not? What is this, the 1950s?" Henry hissed as the girls groaned. He obviously didn't see their vision. Their focus was taken off the tree as Mr Hart came plodding down the stairs to the merry sound of bells as he carried down one of the Hart Family's many traditions.

"Well, guys, I had to look for two hours, but Daddy found it in the attic." Mr Hart told his family as (y/n) suddenly noticed that Mrs Hart and Piper had appeared at some point. Well, now she felt awkward and they clearly didn't like the bells for some reason.

"Stop that! My parents paid a lot of money for these handbells and the least we can do is play them as a family on Christmas...who are you again?" Mr Hart scolded them all and did a double-take when he saw a new, yet familiar person in his house.

"Oh right, I'm one of Henry's bosses from Junk-N-Stuff, I came by to give him some presents." (y/n) smiled sweetly and held her hand out for Mrs Hart to shake.

"Oh, yes, I remember. You're welcome to stay for a while and celebrate with us, honey." The blonde lady politely smiled and (y/n) returned it, beyond grateful at how welcoming Henry's mom was. She could see why Ray...fancied her. 

"Mom..." Henry groaned as he heard one of the bells ding against another one, the sharp noise hurting his ears.

"Honey, you like the handbells, but the rest of us don--" Mrs Hart was cut off by her husband violently shaking the bells to drown out her protests.

"Look, dad, we played the bells last year and we have a guest. Can we please just have--" Piper's interjection was silenced too, despite the mention of the Hart's having a visitor with them. (y/n) was one of the few people Piper liked and she didn't want to upset her because of her father's odd tradition.

"You have to listen to what we're all saying. We--" Even Henry couldn't get through to his dad and the sound of those stupid bells were starting to hurt everyone's ears.

"Okay, okay! I'm really mad!" Jasper suddenly burst into the house, stomping his way over to his friends.

"Dude, I told you, the Santa Clause at the mall isn't going to let a kid of your size sit on his lap." Henry sighed and the thought of Jasper trying to sit on Santa made (y/n) giggle.

"I know, I've accepted that," Jasper told him sharply, still a little bitter about that.

"Then, what are you mad about now?" Charlotte asked wearily, having had enough of her friend's dramatics already.

"Uh, has no one here heard that Captain Man is in jail?" The curly-haired boy looked around the room.

"Yeah, we heard." (y/n) said nonchalantly, acting like she wasn't the first person the police had called.

"Do you guys know why Captain Man is in jail?" Jasper carried on in a miffed tone.

"Yeah, something about a stupid hairnet law," Henry answered vaguely, also pretending that he knew nothing about the matter.

"Yeah, well, you wanna hear some other stupid laws here in Swellview?" Jasper asked rhetorically.

"Not really, but I've got a feeling you're gonna show us anyway." (y/n) mumbled and accepted the book on Swellview's law and ordinances that Jasper handed out to everyone in the room. 

"I wanna play the handbells!" Mr Hart whined, not giving a fig about Captain Man.

"Later!" His wife snapped, not wanting to hear that racket again.

"Take a look at this. Page 34, it is illegal to take a photo of a rabbit without a permit. How stupid is that?" Jasper scoffed and everyone agreed with him as Mr Hart got in a cheeky chime of his bell.

"Okay, everyone. Now, read the laws I've highlighted in your books." The boy moved on. He had put a lot of effort into this.

"Uh, ice cream on a cone may be licked. It is illegal to bite ice cream on a cone." Henry read out in confusion as his dad played another note with his bell. Next, it was Charlotte's turn.

"Okay, it is against the law to wear more than one hat at the same time." She knitted her eyebrows together as she processed the rule. It was dumb, that's for sure.

"(y/n), you go next," Jasper told the woman and she flicked to another page and saw one that caught her gaze.

"Let it be known that giving yourself a wet willy is a punishable offence in the City of Swellview." She read out, feeling as puzzled as the kids next to her.

"Piper." Jasper looked at the little girl who was far from pleased with the way her dad kept messing about with the handbells.

"Dads who play handbells must be destroyed." She. said sarcastically, causing Jasper to flick through the book to see if he could find it.

"It doesn't say that." He argued, but everyone agreed that it should. The bells were getting on their nerves.

"Well, I say it's wrong that Captain Man is in jail and to make my point, I'm going down to City Hall and I'm gonna break some more of the dumb laws," Jasper announced confidently, ready to be a martyr if it meant Captain Man. would be freed.

"Question," Charlotte stated, knowing that, as always, her friend wouldn't have thought any of this out. 

"Why?" She asked.

"'Cause they won't dare put a kid in jail on Christmas and then they'll have to let Captain Man out too." He explained, making (y/n) feel a bit queasy.

"I don't know, kid. I think Captain Man wouldn't want you doing anything stupid." She said nervously. His reasoning wasn't brilliant and she knew that Ray disliked Jasper's interference even at the best of times. 

"Now, I'm going down there and nobody is gonna stop me." He ignored her advice and felt a little jarred when no one else stepped in to protest against his idea.

"There's the door," Charlotte said when he hesitated. Knowing that no one else was up for it, Jasper sighed and exited the house swiftly, hoping his rampant nerves wouldn't get him arrested for anything serious.

"Now can we play the handbells?" Mr Hart asked as the room fell silent after the door slammed shut. 

"As a responsible adult, I'm going to go supervise that kid." (y/n) smiled nervously and backed out of the house as politely as she could.

"Charlotte, we should also go make sure Jasper's okay," Henry said too, the idea of playing the bells forcing his hand. 

"Yeah, hurry!" Charlotte said shakily and the three of them dashed out of the house before they had to play Jingle Bells or something. 

~Swellview City Hall~

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Jasper yelled as he entered the room where the Vice-Mayor, two cops and some other people were working. He had everything he needed to break some of Swellview's craziest laws: two hats, a rabbit and an ice cream cone. 

"Who's that boy? What's going on?" The Vice-Mayor asked his assistants in confusion as Jasper put down his rabbit cage. 

"Go get him, Jasper!"

"You got this!" Henry and Charlotte cheered him on as they appeared behind him, ready to see his performance.

"Just don't do anything too illegal." (y/n) warned him. Sure, she didn't care about the hats and ice cream, but she didn't want the boy to go down for an actual crime.

"My name's Jasper Dunlop and I'm wearing two hats." Jasper started, making his friends smirk as he took off his sombrero and showed the politicians that he had a baseball cap on underneath.

"I'm going to eat this ice cream cone thusly..." He carried on, taking a bite of the ice cream aggressively to prove his point. Time for the big finale.

"And now, without a permit, I'mma take photos of this rabbit." He said and began snapping a few pics of the cute creature whilst the Vice-Mayor walked up to (y/n) and the kids.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" He asked the young woman, assuming she was responsible for Jasper.

"Yeah, we're all mad that Captain Man got arrested for breaking some stupid law about hairnets." She replied, making sure she had an adequate amount of attitude in her voice.

"So, he's protesting by breaking more stupid laws," Charlotte explained, resulting in the Vice-Mayor gesturing for the onlooking cops to arrest Jasper. Oh, shit. 

"What are you doing?" He stammered. He didn't think they'd arrest him on Christmas Eve.

"You're under arrest." The cop said matter-of-factly as he tightened the cuffs on the boy's wrists.

"What? But I'm a child!" He exclaimed whilst the other policeman took off his hats. 

"Doesn't matter." The cop replied.

"But I was only doing this to show how wrong it was to arrest Captain Man," Jasper whined, his stomach dropping at the idea of being locked up.

"Well, now you're gonna be in jail with Captain Man," The officer told him, grabbing (y/n)'s attention. Huh, if she got arrested, they'd let her into the jailhouse. Interesting.

"But I---I am? I'm going to hang out with Captain Man!" Jasper gasped excitedly, thinking that jail with Captain Man didn't seem so bad. Charlotte and Henry rolled their eyes since they now had two problems incarcerated. 

"Oh god, poor Ray." (y/n) facepalmed, knowing her best friend would hate sharing a cell with the overzealous boy.

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked her in puzzlement.

"It's bad enough he's spending Christmas Eve in jail. Now, Jasper's gonna be in there bugging him all day and night." Henry piped up, feeling her concern too.

"Oh, yeah. Poor Ray." Charlotte agreed as (y/n) felt glum again. Christmas without him felt so depressing. She was desperate to see him. 

"Henry, would you like to assist me in keeping him company?" The young woman smirked as an idea popped into her head. If you can't beat them, join them. 

"Yes, ma'am!" Henry grinned and shrugged off his jacket as they wandered over to where Jasper's props had been left.

"What are you both doing?" Charlotte eyed their movements suspiciously as Henry chucked his jacket to a sound assistant. 

"Oh, look at me! I'm a criminal!" Henry shouted as he and (y/n) plunged themselves into the deep end, much to Charlotte's horror.

"He's wearing two hats simultaneously!" The young woman pointed to the sombrero and baseball cap on Henry's head as he picked up the strawberry ice cream cone.

"Oh, look what I'm doing to this ice cream cone!" The boy took a bite as the Vice-Mayor came back in the room and groaned at the sight of more lunatics. 

"Yo, bunny! Smile!" (y/n) whipped out her PearPhone and took several photos of the rabbit with Henry.

"Oh, and Mr Vice-Mayor..." The young woman smirked and licked her finger before sticking it into her ear whilst maintaining eye contact with the politician. She ignored how gross it felt to give herself a wet willy. 'Anything for Ray.' She told herself internally.

"All right, you three are under arrest." The officers came back in the room and one grabbed Henry and (y/n) as the other took Charlotte, who. saw herself as innocent.

"Wait! Why am I under arrest?" She asked angrily as her friends submitted without a fight.

"Because you watched him wear double hats and bite that ice cream cone and you did nothing." The officer said in a commanding tone.

"Don't forget the rabbit and the wet willy," Henry mentioned, making (y/n) give him a fist bump. This plan had worked rather well.

"Aw..." Charlotte groaned as she, Henry and (y/n) were hauled out of the City Hall building and taken to the police station in several cop cars.

~Ray's cell~

It had been a tough afternoon for Swellview's greatest crime fighter. Not only was he spending Christmas away from (y/n), he had to share a cell with some dude who had some issues about being bald. He could do with a break.

"And my barber, he used to be my best friend. But since my hair fell out, he's all, like, get out of my barbershop! You ain't got nothing for me to do!" The hairless man cried, using Ray like a counsellor since he had let him cry on his shoulder earlier.

"Yeah...uh, barbers..." He tried to be sympathetic, but his worries were about to be over, as Henry and Jasper were brought to his cell.

"Ohhh, Captain Man!" Jasper cried out in glee as he saw his favourite superhero, making Ray curse God for the torture he was about to endure. Torture that came with curly hair and endless enthusiasm.

"What have I done? What made you hate me?" He looked up and asked whoever was listening, not seeing that (y/n) and Charlotte were being forced into the cell too.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second." The girl protested as Ray's and (y/n) eyes lit upon seeing each other, despite the fact they had to pretend like they didn't know each other.

"You're gonna put us in the same jail cell as a bunch of guys?" Charlotte asked the prison officer, feeling uncomfortable that they could have put her and (y/n) with any bunch of weirdos. 

"Look, it's Christmas. The women's prison is full." The man explained, stating that there was no other place for them to be put. 

"I don't believe this!" Charlotte groaned as they locked the cell gate. 

"Well, we've explained this as best we can!"

"So you better just suspend your disbelief!" The cops said, before walking off and leaving the "criminals" to themselves.

"Captain Man, all I want for Christmas is a hug from you. Can I please have one?" (y/n) asked innocently, knowing better than to jump into her best friends arms willy-nilly when there were strangers around.

"Of course, citizen." He readily agreed, welcoming his girl into a tight embrace after spending the entire day yearning for her. They could have stayed like that for hours, just happy to know that the other was safe and sound, but they had to keep up appearances.

"Thank you, Captain Man. My life's dream has now been fulfilled." (y/n) said distantly, pulling back too soon for her or his liking, but she had no choice. She didn't want Jasper or the bald guy to get suspicious if she got too familiar with him. 

"You're welcome, girl I don't know." He pretended like she was a stranger, but his eyes told her that she was anything but that. For him, she was home.

"Captain Man, do you remember me? I'm Jasper! We've met several times." The curly-haired boy butted in as (y/n) played with her sleeves once she had separated from Ray. At least she was with him, that was all that mattered. The large man grimaced as Henry and Charlotte chattered quietly behind the boy. How could he forget this kid?

"Yes, I remember you, hi...hey, why don't you talk to my new friend, Harold?" Ray suggested. He didn't want to put up with the kid's questions and endless nattering, he just wanted to spend Christmas Eve listening to whatever (y/n) wanted to say. He could listen to her stories all day.

"No! Bald! Don't look at me!" Harold screamed in terror, his arms wrapping around his smooth head as Jasper sat next to him and tried to soothe his sobbing. Ray took his chance as the two were distracted and led (y/n) by the hand to the opposite side of the cell where Henry and Charlotte were.

"Okay, what's the plan?" He asked excitedly as they huddled together so Jasper and Harold wouldn't hear anything. 

"What do you mean?" Henry asked in return as the three of them gave Ray blank looks. They had worked hard to get into jail, they had no clue how to get out.

"The plan, what's the plan?" He reiterated, assuming that they had some idea of how to bust out of jail so he could go home and celebrate Christmas with (y/n) like he always did.

"What plan?" Charlotte folded her arms in confusion.

"The plan to get me outta here." He explained.

"Ohhhhhhh." The three of them suddenly felt very stupid.

"We don't have one," Henry revealed, making the man's smile drop instantly.

"You don't have a plan?!" Ray looked from the kids to (y/n) in disbelief. What the hell were they doing here if not for getting him out?

"No! I mean, I didn't want you to be alone and locked up here on Christmas Eve, with Jasper might I add, so Henry and I got arrested to keep you company." (y/n) told him sheepishly, feeling a bit dumb when she said it out loud. By the way Ray thudded his head against the wall, she guessed he was annoyed. Oops.

"I'm just a victim of circumstance," Charlotte added as he walked around them and into the middle of the cell. (y/n) gulped as he brushed past her, she had hoped for a better reaction than that.

"Great. So I get to spend Christmas in a jail cell." Ray complained bitterly. He had wanted to spend merely one evening with his girl on the couch, both of them wearing pyjamas and giggling in the light of the Christmas tree. They'd wake up in each other's arms, having fallen asleep watching Home Alone for the hundredth time and then they'd open their gifts. Maybe by some Christmas miracle he would've given her a mistletoe kiss and made all his dreams come true. He'd have done all that if he wasn't in some lousy jail cell.

"Well, at least we're here with you," Henry said positively, trying to look on the bright side.

"Yeah, and I'm sure our parents are gonna--" Charlotte tried to be rational, but she was interrupted when Jasper soothed Harold, who was still sobbing about his hair loss.

"There, there. It's okay that you're bald. You didn't choose to be this way." He said softly to the man as he stroked his head. The four people across the cell looked at the scene in bewilderment.

"I'm sorry we're spending Christmas like this." Ray turned to his best friend and mumbled to her quietly. He knew how much she loved the holiday season and how she tried to make the most of it since she rarely got to see any of her family when it finally rolled around. He was the one who always kept her company, but now, thanks to his ego and a hairnet, they were gonna have the worst Christmas ever.

"Hey, it's all right. As long as I'm with you, I don't care how we spend Christmas." She smiled at him sweetly, but the tender moment was disrupted when a cop came to the cell with Mrs Hart following behind him.

"Mom!" Henry grinned at his mother, assuming she was there to get him out, but it soon fell when the blonde lady miserably shuffled into the cell, and the officer locked the door again.

"Oh, crap." (y/n) breathed out as the cop walked away, leaving everyone in the jail cell to twiddle their thumbs again. Mrs Hart took a seat on one of the blue benches in the cell, and Ray followed suit, smirking at her as he ignored the way his heart pulled towards his best friend. 

"Hey, figured I'd sit here." He crooned to Henry's mom, making (y/n) feel sick to her stomach as she quietly took a seat next to Charlotte. The girl sympathetically put her hand over hers when she stared at her lap as her dream guy flirted with another woman. Looks like he didn't feel the same way and that he'd rather spend the evening with Mrs Hart than her. As usual, she'd been overlooked, and her hopes of him feeling the same was crushed back into the corner where she ignored them. 

"Okay." She smiled politely, not wanting to get too cosy with him since she was a) in jail, b) in love with her husband and c) knew that Captain Man loved a girl he was too afraid to talk to. And by his flirtatious behaviour, she guessed that he was still building up his courage to do so. 

"I can't believe you're in jail." She ignored the superhero and frowned at her son, who was sitting on the floor.

"You're in jail." Henry pointed out to her, thinking that any punishment he got from her would be entirely hypocritical. 

"Well, what kind of mother would I be if I let my child sit in jail without his mother." Mrs Hart defended herself, even though her argument was built on shaky ground.

"You know, I think you look too young to be anyone's mother." Ray complimented her, unaware of how he was breaking (y/n)'s heart. It was bad enough knowing he chatted her up when she was stuck in the Man Cave, but seeing it in person? She swore she wouldn't last the night.

"Oh, stop!" Mrs Hart told him, trying to be stern, but she came across as flirty to both Ray and (y/n). The woman wanted a reason to hate her, wanted to curse her name and call her a bitch for flirting back, but she had no ground to stand on. Mrs Hart was a lovely woman, sweet, kind, and generous. How was she supposed to compete with that? How was she supposed to hate her when she'd done nothing wrong?

"Kill me." (y/n) whimpered to herself, Henry and Charlotte being the only people who heard her.

"Yeah, stop," Henry instructed Ray in an icy voice. He hated when Ray tried it on with his mom, but with (y/n) in the room, it boiled his blood even more. The superhero knocked it off when the boy nodded his head to the young woman, and he saw how she was sat by herself, looking miserable to say it was her favourite night of the year. 

"I can't believe I'm a girl spending Christmas in a man's jail! And I don't see any tissues available." Charlotte complained, standing up and frowning at her cellmates. The sign on the wall was complete bullshit, and it made the night seem even suckier.

"Look, the important thing is that it's Christmas, and we're all together," Ray said, putting his hand on Mrs Hart's shoulder, ruining his message for Henry and (y/n) as he tried it on again.

"But we're not all together, are we?" The young woman said in a bored, cool tone, knowing that Mr Hart had been put in another cell. She could swear that the universe was against her; she knew Ray wouldn't dare touch another man's wife if said man was in the room. Unfortunately for her, though, he was free to cuddle her as much as he liked since Mr Hart was absent. 

"Yeah, I'm worried about your father." Mrs Hart said to her son, making Ray back off at the mention of the man she married. 

"Well, if they arrested him with you, how come they didn't put him in here?" Henry asked as Ray wandered over to (y/n), who just ignored him. She loved him to pieces, but she would never lower herself into being a rebound.

"Apparently, pulling down a police officer's pants down is a class one misdemeanour." His mom explained, making the young woman behind her raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, shit." She said as she mulled over the situation, trying not to show any sign that she was annoyed with Ray. She didn't want him to see how his flirting upset her, so she just kept her distance from him.

"What?" Mrs Hart turned around and looked at her in worry.

"Oh, that means that they've put him in a cell with all the bad criminals. You know, the murderers, robbers, gang members...I'll stop talking now." (y/n) trailed off when everyone grimaced at the thought of Henry's dad being with all those dangerous men. Well, everyone apart from Ray, who smiled at the thought of having an opportunity to drown out his yearning by focusing on some meaningless feelings. Every time he turned to someone else, he didn't see how (y/n) took one step back from telling him how she felt.

Charlotte took a seat next to Mrs Hart, who was thrumming her fingers against her face as the hours started to stretch. 

"This does not feel like Christmas." (y/n) grumbled as she sat next to Henry on the floor. She could've spent Christmas on a landfill site, and it would've been better than sitting through Ray's lovefest with another woman. Especially since he'd shoved Charlotte down the bench so he could get close to Kris Hart again. Gross.

"Not at all." Jasper agreed, Ray looking at his best friend in heartbreak. He wanted to take away all her pain, thinking that the jail cell was cramping her mood, but in reality, he just needed to talk to her, not Henry's mom, and she'd bounce back instantly.

"Not even close." Charlotte finished, feeling depressed at how her Christmas was turning out.

"This is the opposite of Christmas." Mrs Hart sighed, but their ears twitched when they heard a scratchy tune coming down the hall. They all frowned in confusion as the different notes began to blend into harmony.

"Am I imagining something or...is that..." Henry said as the melody seemed familiar.

"...Jingle Bells." Charlotte realised, following the tune in her head.

"In jail?" Jasper asked in bewilderment as Henry and (y/n) stood up so they could hear the music.

"But...where is it coming from?" Mrs Hart wondered, trying to think of who would be tapping along to a Christmas carol in a prison.

"Maybe someone who really wanted to play with his handbells." (y/n) smiled as she remembered that Mr Hart was down the hall. She figured that the festive season brought out his musical side and that he was creating the tune with his cellmates.

"Jingle Bells, Jingles Bells..." Henry started to mumble along to the melody absent-mindedly, and Ray and (y/n) decided that they felt like singing too.

"Jingle all the way." They smiled at each other as they joined in, prompting everyone to sing the well-known lyrics too. 

"Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh, hey!" Mrs Hart and Jasper held hands as they moved into the second verse.

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh." Ray put his arm around (y/n) as everyone sang together. This was what made her Christmas special, just her, him and their friends sharing the festive spirit. Mrs Hart pulled her son into a hug as the couple danced with Charlotte, and Jasper and Harold put their arms around each other. 

"Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh, O'er the fields we go, laughing all the way, haha!" They giggled as they finished the bits they remembered, glad that they had found some cheer even in their bleak situation. 

"Oh my god, look!" Charlotte gasped as she saw something above everyone's heads and pointed to it. 

"Holy cow, mistletoe!" Jasper exclaimed as he recognised the plant that had been mysteriously taped there. Well, this was a turnout for the books. Mrs Hart gave her son an affectionate peck on the cheek, and (y/n) did the same to Charlotte, whilst Jasper and the bald guy just settled for a handshake. That only left Ray, who gulped at all his options.

"Hey, who am I supposed to kiss?" He whined, not wanting to be left out, but also blushing as the situation dawned on him.

"Not my mom!" Henry quickly interjected, not wanting to see that and he knew that they'd have to carry (y/n) out on a stretcher. 

"You know, 'cause she's...married." He excused, his heart thumping at the moment they were shaping.

"May I suggest my friend, (y/n)? She's not married." Charlotte shoved the woman forward, her cheeks flushing as she looked at Ray in terror. These little shits, of course, they'd try something like this so she'd break. 

"Oh, I don't think Captain Man wants to kiss me." She chuckled nervously, trying to get herself and Ray out of the situation. There was no way in the world he'd want to kiss her; she was his friend, nothing more.

"I would never force this young lady into anything like that." Ray held up his hands, feeling just as anxious as his friend did. God, he wanted to kiss her, he was desperate to discover what those lips tasted like finally, but he took her nervousness as repulsion, so he reigned in his desire. 

"I'll kiss you, Captain Man." Jasper offered, not caring about the connotations; he just wanted to be helpful to his favourite superhero.

"I'll kiss (y/n)." Ray quickly deadpanned, the idea of being anywhere near the boy making him nauseous. The young woman blinked and gulped as her masked hero turned to her and stepped forward. Was this really happening?

"Y-you don't have to d-do this." She stuttered, wanting to give him one last chance to push her away before she succumbed to everything she had ever dreamed of doing.

"You don't have to either." He swallowed the lump in his throat as she put her hands on his chest. He also wanted to give her the space to step back, even though he was already leaning in. 

"It's all right." She promised him and closed the gap between them. 

It was chaste, innocent and agonisingly brief for everyone watching. But for Ray and (y/n), it felt like a lifetime as their lips met for the first time. He was right, she did taste like honey, but also like the gingerbread chapstick she had been using throughout the holidays. He just wanted more, especially when she instinctively slid her hands up to the hair on the nape of his neck.

(y/n) took in everything about him, how soft his chocolate locks were, how his cologne enveloped her and how his lips were softer than she had ever imagined. Every other guy she had kissed before had rough, chapped lips, but his were plump, gentle and made just for her. He tasted like mint and bubblegum, an unexpected flavour, but not one that she hated. In fact, she wanted to experience it for the rest of her life. This was what she had been missing, what she had been chasing and it felt like she was drinking in his soul. 

It was perfect and Henry and Charlotte subtly shook hands as the couple lingered for a few seconds, feeling like all their work had paid off. Two friends who had been dancing around each other for years had shared their first kiss thanks to them and it was their greatest achievement, but...it didn't last.

(y/n) realised that she was being overly indulgent and pulled back before she could truly explore the depths of Ray like she wanted to. She took in a deep breath as he removed his hands from her waist and she let go of his face. Ray remembered who he was kissing and who was watching and receded in slight horror. He'd let go of his inhibitions and he felt like he had taken advantage of her.

"Well, that's that." He breathed out and took a step back from her, kicking down his instinct to dive back in and see what else he could learn about her. She too stepped away awkwardly and licked her lips, chasing that faint lingering essence of mint before she lost it. Waiting to see if he would say or do anything else felt like an eternity, so she beat him to it and acted like it had been a mere friendly peck. 

"Merry Christmas, Captain Man." (y/n) twitched her mouth into a nervous smile as Henry and Charlotte mentally facepalmed at how they reverted to their shy and oblivious selves, seeing how they refused to believe that the other enjoyed the kiss. 

"Merry Christmas, swee--Miss (y/n)," Ray replied with an equally tight smile and refrained from giving her his preferred name. He longed to take her in his arms again and tell her everything he felt for her and kiss her until he had mapped out her mouth in his mind, but he couldn't. There were too many people watching and she had turned away to give Charlotte a stressed, but blissed-out face. 

She never saw how he pined for her and he never saw how she longed for him to make a move.

[mhalachai]

Hello! I just reread Hands of Clay for the billionth time. I live in Calgary and every time I get to the part where Bucky says he wants to roadtrip up for the Stampede, I go "CALGARY MENTION!" I love this fanfic with my entire heart.

Have you ever visited Calgary for Stampede?

Friend, i still have gravel embedded in my knee from the number of times I tripped and fell on the Stampede grounds as a child. I am still 12% pancake from all the Stampede breakfasts i've eaten over the years. I still have the blisters from being forced to stand for hours to watch the Grandstand show because my parents were too cheap to buy tickets for us to sit down. I rode in a car in the Stampede parade for about a block, not because I was invited, but because my 4-year-old self took advantage of her mother's inattention to hop in the car beside the nice lady (I think it was an insurance firm float?) until my grandmother ran the car down and grabbed me back.

Really, though, I grew up in Calgary until my early teens and then afterwards we always went back for the Stampede. This was back when it was cheap enough to go to several times, when the rides were cheap and rickety, and crucially at that time in the 1980s where children aged 8 and up could safely be abandoned for the day once inside the park gates and no one was too worried they'd get grabbed or murdered or anything.

things are different now - for one, parents tend to pay attention to where their kids are at; second, the Stampede (along with the city) has lost a lot of the sharp edges and metaphorical dust covering everything, a vibe that lingered from before the oil boom in the 70s. don't get me wrong - life back then wasn't better by any stretch of the imagination; it was just different. I think it's survivor's bias or something, the nostalgia of having made it through in one piece when you know life around you was tough.

ANYWAY early in the planning for Hands of Clay there was going to be a chapter where they took the kids on a road-trip - it ended up turning into the Long Island trip instead (which made so much more thematic sense) but anyway Natasha was going to get lost in the Roundup Centre and end up in the backrooms area and meet up with the spooky old caretaker (queue Wade Wilson). Buckey was going to lose his mind. Natasha had it all under control. Etc.

And once I convinced myself to shelve that particular storyline, I did want to keep a slight homage to my hometown :D :D

thanks for the ask and the chance to be old on the internet lol

[eternitas]

No context Lorenzo and Sergey bc writing them brings out my comedic side [at least I think I'm funny]

Ser: -but quite frankly nobody asked! Lor: ?! YOU literally just asked! *pause* Ser: Well I'm not asking anymore! --- Ser: There is a specific place on hell reserved for people that constantly NEEDS to make their dumb thoughts known to the world.... And we're gonna be roommates ♥ :3 --- Lor: You just exist to rob me of my last nerve, your entire existance is just to drive me insane. Ser: Awww... it's so cute that you believe to be at the top of my priorities, but I just don't feel the same way about you, sorry... Lor: I am literally 2 seconds from killing you Ser: I'm really not into that kinky stuff. ---- Ser: That went well... anyone want a smoothy? Lor: Nobody wants a smoothy and that went aweful! Ser: Oh... Well, less of a queue at the smoothy bar~ --- Ser: Can we just agree to disagree? Lor: We can agree to all of this being YOUR fault and me kicking your ass once we're done here! Ser: ... You know what, that's fair. ---- Lor: On a scale of one to cleaning after officer Bels blood games, this is easily up there on the most gore contained in one squaremeter. Ser: Have you ever been in Lussurias backroom? Lor: What? No! Ser: Oh- Nevermind then --- Lor: If you don't shut the hell up, I'll shave your head and feed you all your hair just to pull it back out from your intestines like a bad sequel to The Ring! Ser: You saw The Ring?! Lor: FOCUS! ---- Ser: On a scale of one to five how pissed off are you right now? Lor: 12. Ser: Okay, sure, carry on, don't mind me. ---- Ser: Lorenzo, if we die here can I tell you a secret? Lor: No I don't care. Ser: Aw :c Lor: No, actually, tell me, I don't plan to die here and then I'll have something to sell to Mammon. Ser: Well, now I'm not telling you! :/ ---- Ser: Whaaat? Noooo! He'd never do that, nooo- Lor: He'd absolutely do something like that Ser: Oh yeah, definitely. --- Ser: Let me hear you say ayooo~ Lor: Bing, boom, kachow Lor+Ser: Nailed it~!

[thomasicism]

"Amelia, you..."

He brings a palm to his face for a few seconds, half in exasperation, half in relief thst he can finally see her.

...And see, in fact, that she was not with the right frame of mind.

He makes quick strides across the street. It's late enough, at least, that the cars—and cabs—passing by are scarce, and he's able to pull her into his arms for a hug.

"Silly," he murmurs. He can smell the alcohol on her, but he doesn't mind. "Don't do that again. What if something happened to you? Next time, wait for me to get there. Okay?"

He reaches down to pick up her phone, wincing at its state—"I'll just get you a new one... Let's go inside? Stay close to me."

thomassss inmisd you i miss you sosososososo muchhhh @ameliadamen

Amelia...? Have you been drinking?

You know I'm always just a call away from you... Is everything okay? Do you want me to come over?

[hampaanirvi]

To-do

Muzzled mutt IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

Cryptid researcher IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

Sona keres Mirzoyan (CoD) moodboard

Simon Ghost Riley (CoD) moodboard

Gore NPTs (request)

Keres, Soap, and Ghost (CoD) mask pixels

Ranboo NPTs

Keres (CoD) NPTs

Carrion merfolk NPTs

Merfolk IDpack

Apocalyptic merfolk moodboard

Requests

Organs in an arcade machine (inspired by the song "cabinet man" by lemon demon basically.) NPTs

Deimos from Madness Combat NPTs (notes; violence/gore/apocalyptic themes, masc/neu/alterhuman names.)

Based on "Vending machine of love by The Stupendium" ID pack

Kyouka Izumi from bungo stray dogs ID pack

windows or computer/web themed NPTs

Level 9 (the suburbs), level 11.3 (the red light district), and level 13 (infinite apartments) from backrooms ID pack

Wip

CoD affiliation badge pixels

Self indulgent Dogboy IDpack/Moodboard/fashionboard

Spencer Reid (Criminal minds) moodboard

Immortal Moodboard/IDpack

Firefly (HSR) IDpack (request)

Sweet pup kemonomimi IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

50x50 bone pixels; mutt, pedigree, untamed

50×50 bone pixels; raccoon, flying lemur, and owl.

Queue

shoto todoroki introject NPTs

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Bestie. Fellow podcast fan. I saw in your recent post that podcast hiatus's are driving you insane, have you listened to wooden overcoats before? because if you haven't I just listened to it because tmagp break is driving me crazy and its very good 100% would recommend.

Omg yes I have!!

Antigone Funn my belovedddddd 😭😭😭

I was so excited to see Beth Eyre credited as [REDACTED] in episode 10 of tmagp, coming out of that locked door in the ruins of the institute

I (and the world) need more Beth Eyre creechurs lurking in the shadows and scaring poor unsuspecting bystanders

Thank you for the suggestion! There are a few shows I'm binging right now, you're also welcome to join me if you wish!

Liberty podcast, scifi from the makers of the white vault, I think it's one of their first creations and it's been on my list for a while. I'm on episode 6 and so far the world building is intriguing and I'm already getting attached to the team on the research expedition going out from their safe high tech city to the dangerous post apocalyptic parts of their world

The orphans, another scifi horror of survivors of a crashed ship who lost their memory and are being chased around on a strange planet by multiple threats. I'm on episode 3 and each and every person in this is the poorest little meow meow you've ever met, including the deteriorating AI who can only ever be rude to everyone around it. Actually establishes some good tension in the action scenes, something that is hard to do in podcasts and I rarely find any who succeed in doing it without compromising clear sound queues and well balanced sfx.

The liminal lands is the last podcast I'm binging. I randomly chanced upon the name and decided to pick it up. It's about a man who one day went hunting, tripped and fell and no-clipped into an alternate reality where no one else exists and time and electricity are on the fritz. I'm on episode 3, it's a beginner's passion project so the acting and sound is challenging to anyone used to high quality but the story is fascinating and keeps me hooked and the crisp southern accents definitely help. It's like a podcast version of the backrooms and it definitely manages to convey the same kind of eeriness.

Oops I went off lol, hope this is somehow helpful even if you didn't ask for it 😅

And yes I fully agree about wooden overcoats everyone should listen to it asap it's so good!!

[whimsyskittles]

he likes the girl in the band hobie x f!reader PART 1!

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

my first fic everyone..sorry if it disappoints lmao

TW: i literally cannot do hobies accent for the life of me I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE

also i started losing sanity throughout writing this because it was like 3 when i started and 5 when i finished!!1! (if i dont finish an 'assignment' all together without breaks i end up procrastinating until it never gets finished) teehee anyways here you go!!

word count: 1542

it was the night of your concert, you and your bandmates were practicing on stage before the doors to the arena open. you were the bass guitarist and were very skillful. skillful enough to the point where people have cried at some of your performances.

a few minutes later, people started filling the arena. everywhere you looked you seen thousands of heads. close to where you were standing, in the very front section, you seen an absolute gorgeous tree-like figure standing there, cheering with the rest of the crowd. your cheeks turned a rosy pink color, before you snapped back to reality (eminem reference??!!?) just in time to prepare yourself to get in position.

after everyone had gotten in, the keyboard started playing, which led the singer to start vocalizing. this meant it was almost your turn. you had to start playing your bass in front of thousands of people. the intensity and anticipation rose as it was almost your queue to start moving your fingers along the guitar in your arms and really get the concert going.

after a few seconds, you started jamming to the music and plucking your guitar. everyone was screaming and cheering to the point where you could hardly hear your increasingly fast heart beat. you continued to play as you eyed the guy you had noticed before the area filled up to its maximum capacity. you were making eye contact with each other and you grinned as he watched you, he looked quite mesmerized as he sung along with the rest of the fans.

after a few seconds of maintaining eye contact with the boy (and an internal confidence booster), you winked at him as you got a little more funky with your guitar playing, showing off a few free spirited moves before the end of the song. even thought you couldn't tell, he was definitely blushing. "did the guitarist just wink at me?" he thought, as he paused his singing before starting again. "nah, there's too many people for y/n to even notice my appearance." (ironic considering the situation) he settled with this and cleared his mind before turning his attention back to the concert.

[timeskip: after the concert] IM SORRY IF THIS IS A LITTLE WEIRD JUST A REMINDER THAT ITS MY FIRST ONE BARE WITH ME

your band walked off stage into the back rooms (BACKROOMS REFERENCE???!!!!) and grabbed a few waters before you walked into the main lobby near the entrance to meet a few of your fans. (i'm sorry i dont really know how that works lmao) you and your bandmates moseyed on down to the main lobby where a couple of tables were set up. the trio stood by a table as the crowd flooded in and formed a line amongst (amongus reference??? i apologize it's 3 in the morning) the rest of the people who had decided to leave instead of waiting in the now huge line. with each fan, each member signed their name and if wanted, took a photograph with them. as it got down to the last person in line, you blushed a little and zoned out into the eyes of the beauty standing in front of you (the much noticed beauty of course). you felt yourself get nudged in the rib cage

"give the man his autograph, y/n, what're you doing?" the voice was coming from literally right next to you. it was your bandmate, ryan.

"oh, uh, yeah, sorry about that, got zoned out there." you tried to cover up what had just happened by signing your name on the newly purchased poster and handing it down to the other members.

"no worries, love." the boy said, directed towards you, "my names 'obie, 'obie brown. im a 'uge fan of your band, been listenin' for years now. it's my favorite for sure." he grinned and looked directly into your eyes, much like how you guys had locked eyes before during the concert.

the lead singer handed the poster back to hobie. "okay hobie, here ya go, it's your lucky day, you get all three signatures of the members from your favorite band." said ryan, the one who had nudged you before. "sorry about y/n, don't know what's going on with her today." he nudged you again, you were still looking at hobie, admiring the outfit he was wearing.

you finally zoned back in and your bandmates, including hobie were staring at you.

"you okay there, love?" hobie inquired, raising an eyebrow

"yeah, yeah sorry about that..again..uh...you know what, i've gotta go get another water, wait here and we'll get a picture with you."

he nodded and smiled as he watched you walk away to go grab another water bottle

as you walked backstage to get another bottle, you sat down for a moment. you thought to yourself "oh my god what am i doing?? am i so obvious that the man himself was taking notice of my behavior?? you put a hand on your forehead and took a deep breath out. you composed yourself and finally walked back with your water.

"woo, she's finally back, here she comes!" shouted one of your bandmates

hobie looked at you, focusing on your lips as he grinned while you were walking back to the area where you were originally standing. "you're ready to take the picture now, yeah?" he raised an eyebrow at you and held his phone up to take a selfie with the members.

"yeah, of course, go ahead and shoot." you said, grinning back and posing for the camera.

[SORRY I DIDNT KNOW WHAT ELSE TO PUT TIMESKIP TIME!! timeskip: one day later at a park]

you and a few of your closest friends, including ryan, a member from your band, decided to have a fun little picnic at a nearby park. you were laughing and joking around with the group when you seen him. hobie was also with a friend, you seen him in the corner of your eye.

"hey, guys, i'll be back in a few minutes, i'm gonna go over here and chat a little, kay?" you looked at the group and nodded your head towards hobie.

"yeah, go talk to your boyfriend, y/n" ryan teased

"oh, stop. he's not my boyfriend, he just stuck out a little from the rest of our fans, i wanna go talk with him for a bit, and don't say another word about it" you threatened joked, as you walked away from your friends and started making your way towards hobie.

as you got close enough to where he could hear you, you shouted and waved, "hey, hobie! it's me, y/n!"

he turned around and had a surprised look on his face "y/n? a member from a famous band came to see me? i'm not complainin'. what brings you over 'ere?" he looked at you and waited for a response (like he doesn't know the entire population is attracted to him in some way)

"just wanted to stop by, you stood out to me yesterday and i think we have a good chance at becoming friends!" you looked at him and smiled, not having any intention of creeping him out in some kind of weird stalker way, even though the entire situation was a little odd.

he blushed a little as you were always his crush favorite in the band. "alright, let's get to know each other a bit more then, yeah?" he started asking a few questions and a bit later he had asked one that really made you stop and overthink for a minute, "so, y/n, are you single at the moment?" he was looking right at you. was he crushing? was he genuinely just wanting to 'know more about you'? or was he just messing around?

after a minute, you responded, "uh, no, i'm currently single. i've been trying to find the right person before i start dating anyone." you so badly wanted to tell him that you genuinely had at least a little bit of feelings for him. but what if he didn't accept and made a fool out of you? what if you don't like him as much as you think you do? you had zoned out for a minute as you were questioning everything before he tapped on your shoulder.

hobies pov at that time:

he was extremely flushed when you came over, but he was doing a great job at hiding it. way to go, hobie, you didn't stutter this time! (lmao just you wait)

he had just asked you what had seemed like a normal question, although you and him were both sorta overthinking it a bit. was he too direct? was it an odd thing to ask all of a sudden? had it made you uncomfortable? these are the questions he was currently asking himself.

you had finally responded to him to which he said, "ah.." you didn't catch that, though.

he looked at the grass for a moment before noticing that you were zoned out as well. he scooted closer to you and tapped on your shoulder. it felt like it was just the two of you, looking into each others eyes.

(love how everyone else including the friend hobie was with is just being ignored 😍)

back to your pov:

you looked up and met your eyes with hobies, you two looked at each other for a good while before..

before he had leaned in to..to kiss you?!?

before anything could happen you quickly stood up, swerving hobie. "uh..sorry..i've uh...i've got to go.." you stood there for a minute, feeling bad about your actions.

hobie looked away, you couldn't tell if he was disappointed or understanding of what had just happened

you stood there for awhile longer, allowing the awkwardness to settle in. you were about to apologize, but quickly shut your mouth and decided it would just be best if you had left, so you walked-almost speedrunning-away from hobie and his friend. you walked past your own friends, and walked back to your apartment, which was only a couple of blocks away from the park.

you unlocked your door and sat on your sofa. thinking of everything that happened. wondering if you did the wrong thing. questioning your actions. did i really just do that? we don't even know each other that well...but i do like him...but what if he hates me now? does he? what am i saying..we just met! but he's so...amazing..he probably hates me. what is wrong with me??

a couple of hours had went by and you were in a constant loop of laughing at the tv show that was currently playing and stressing about what had happened at the park

suddenly, you hear a knock at your door.

CLIFFHANGER!!! (i bet nobody could guess who's at the door 🤭)

ANYWAYS, ILL START WORKING ON PART TWO TOMORROW BECAUSE IF I DONT SLEEP NOW, I WILL QUITE LITERALLY COMBUST!!1

goodbye and thanks for reading!

-whimsy ☆

[sesshy380]

Too tired to even bother attempting to write/edit today. Instead I will share my favorite encounters as a retail worker for just today.

Customer: Call another cashier up here! The line is way back there! *Customer points to back of store, line isn't even at end of queue lane*

Me: Sorry, I'm the only one *shrugs and continues with current transaction* (Too tired to be sassy and say 'Absolutely! Let me call my very pregnant manager to waddle up from the back for absolutely nothing, because by that time the line will be gone!')

Customer: You only have # of X on the shelf. Is there more in the backroom?

Me: *points at cart that I am slowly putting away in between customer rushes* That's what's left of our 'backroom'.

Customer: Don't you get shipments?

Me: Used to be weekly, but to save on fuel costs it's now bi-weekly. Our last one was on Friday, and it was 98% Halloween.

Customer: You already have Halloween?!?!

Me: *blank stare wondering how they missed the whole front half of the store*

*mantra chant* It's not as bad as Walmart It's not as bad as Walmart It's not as bad as....

[thelaithlyworm]

First sentence game

Rule: Share the first sentence of your ten most recent fics.

(Tagged by @evilasiangenius )

All he knows is snow. - from How Zhang Qiling Comes Down the Mountain  which is currently at the top of my feed because I recently did a podfic of it. (The mountain is very real, but it is also a metaphor. And there’s breakfast! (Which is also real, and is also a metaphor.))

It is very peaceful, on Tongluo Mountain. - from It Is Very Peaceful, on Tongluo Mountain - prequel fic for Back From The Brink - how a very woebegone little dragon king was rescued by a daft old lady, and partly how small town life goes.

When Hei Xiazi heard that Jiu-ye was dying he was in a backroom bar in Vietnam, ducking under strings of flypaper and slipping by a charcoal brazier the room didn’t really need in the gentle throes of the southern winter. - from Joy for the brother sun - Of a tired, often-penniless immortal who hears that one of the few people who remember him from when he was young is dying, and the journey he makes to get to the man’s deathbed. And what he finds there.

“Do you have any good rhymes for ‘silver’, d’Artagnan?” - from Song of Songs - Also dragged higher up the queue on account of podfic. D’Artagnan, raw youth, bemoans his tragic lovelife while Aramis, older sophisticate, talks obliquely about his. There’s poetry!

It was a modern set of flats, with the rooms set tight as the cells in a honeycomb and little balconies poking out like bug-legs on the outside wall. - from The Eggs Have It - Again with Hei Xiazi, this time with his old student pawning his new student off on Hei-ye for training, the nerve! the impudence! (It’s kind of a funny story but with teeth here and there.) … In canon, Hei-ye’s existence - both extremely competent and weirdly poverty-stricken - comes with his plot significance like a fragrance does flowers. Like the Brother Sun story, it seemed appropriate to start with something reflecting his physical circumstances. Also, I like the weirdly organic descriptions Xu Lei gives to inorganic things sometimes.

Wu Xie woke awkwardly, slowly, to the calls of blackbirds and what might possibly be the wheeze of a dying bear. - from A World Made Over, Fresh and New - So this is kind of a silly story, and most of it is about Wu Xie being a little ridiculous, so I wanted to start strong.

This fragment of internet ephemera – a pastiche of The Classic of Mountains and Seas – shares some of the delightfully weird world building of Sand Sea (pub. Mustard-Seed Press, Xiamen) and is generally considered to be written by Sand Sea’s author, Guan Gen - also the unattributed co-author of the minor action movie Time Raiders (2016). - from Excerpt from: The Classic of Mountains Underground, attributed to Guan Gen - Not gonna lie, I was inspired by A Field Guide to Dragons of the Circumpolar Arctic (excerpts) by Sholio which doesn’t just have fascinating dragon lore but starts with a chunk of detail about the researcher, academia-style, and it all makes it feel very very real. (It also comes with a delightful podfic! *waggles eyebrows*) And - thinking about which parts of the dmbj series exist as texts inside the dmbj series is hilarious.

They tie you by your wrists and by your ankles and throw you down the tunnel. - from Blood From A Stone - Written at a point of dmbj canon where Zhang Qiling Is Really Not Having A Good Time…

“Damn Pangzi, this is all your fault,” Liu Sang hissed. - from Damn Pangzi - Also not gonna lie, Liu Sang and Wang Pangzi’s bickering energy gives me life.

The pinpoint lights of the chandeliers overhead skimmed into lines as A-Ning stormed out of the ballroom, the delicate wrist of a server pincered between her fierce fingers. - from In the Closet - A-Ning, so forceful of you…

Tagging (if you wish to be tagged): @procrastinatorproject @jazzfic @foxofninetales @merinnan @alxina

[apaise]

❛  i  would  remember  a  face  like  yours . ❜ ro @ mal

it's her fourth week of subbing in for the guitarist of velvet underground and already mal's grown a little tired of the band. while she gets along well enough with the bassist and drummer . . . their vocalist seems to have a meltdown almost every other night about the set list or the venue or even her outfit. so in the middle of their last song of the night, mal begins to strategize her smooth exit from the band, piecing together some excuse that wouldn't leave egos too bruised.

yet as her fingers trace the frets in all zealous muscle memory, lazy regard drifting over the roaring crowd . . . her eyes find another's at the back of the fray, tucked near the bar. from the distance, mal can't make out the specifics, the other shrouded in the pulsing red lights overhead ( short hair, leather jacket, carved jaw, relaxed posture ) . . . but she feels the pull of her gaze all the same, something magnetizing even from thirty feet away.

mal's eyes don't leave hers for the remainder of the performance, the draw of the stranger's attention keeping her enthralled. when it's time for an encore, mal finds herself relieved for it; her fingers lock onto the guitar as she works to redeem her earlier performance for her friend at the bar. by the third and final song, mal's forehead glistens with sweat and her fingers ache, but she's satisfied with her last show -- grateful to those dark eyes for that last spark of inspiration.

after the band exchanges the usual compliments and critiques in the backroom, mal stashes her resignation speech for now, taking on more pressing priorities. she peels off her sweaty tee and dips back into the crowd in her tank top in search of her muse. luckily, she isn't too hard to find; unluckily, she's already surrounded by other eager girls.

it's now standing ten feet away that mal actually recognizes her -- no wonder she had been captivated even with fifty rowdy people between them before. the bassist from aurora syndrome is a force all on her own. mal had seen them live before they became too big for seedy bars, but she still remembers how she had been transfixed by the bassist's every electric pluck and slide. for someone like mal who has to work so hard at her music to be good, to be perfect -- instinctive geniuses like ro nuñez are spellbinding.

though it's a little embarrassing and humbling to be in the same position as so many bumbling, hopeful groupies, mal waits her turn, buying a drink. at one point, she worries ro will go home after the last batch of autographs, but then -- amidst a flood of compliments from one touchy fangirl -- ro seems to catch mal's eye and give her a smile.

all right, maybe she can wait a little longer.

it's less crowded by the time mal finally takes a seat beside ro, teasing her about the queue. when ro compliments her on her performance, mal tries not to melt, returning some flattery by admitting she's come to a few of aurora syndrome's bar concerts in the past.

❝ really? ❞ something about the way ro glances at her so decidedly, eyes heavy, has mal's head spinning more than the alcohol. she keeps steady, however, leaning in as she returns the look, knee brushing ro's. ❝ well . . . maybe i can give you something more memorable than just a face tonight, ❞ she smiles. if she's to keep up with the competition. @feveredblurs

[blackbloodteeth]

"SoMa no kissing in The Backroom challenge (Hard Mode)"

Well this was intended for April Fools Day but sometimes things get a little out of hand don’t they haha

I wrote this with the premise of “no plans, no backspaces” (except for fixing typos otherwise this would be unreadable) because of a joke I made in chat, which is where the exact words of the title comes from, typo included. Hopefully the nonstop work I did on this for over a week is at least worth the read.

.

[Also on AO3]

Rating:    Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:    Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Fandom:    Soul Eater (Anime & Manga)

Relationship:    Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans

Characters:    Soul Eater Evans,  Maka Albarn

Additional Tags:    Religious Imagery & Symbolism,  Violence,  Blood,  Body Horror,  Trauma

Language:    English

Words:    9920

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The story starts with Soul and Maka having left the hallway into an unidentified room, holding hands as one of them claims to tell them something (I'm not sure who we'll see if this becomes relevant later).

"Hey, I need to tell you something..." It's probably Maka.

As it turns out the room has other plans when the lights flicker and the surrounding area fades into a change of scene. The walls become a yellowish office hue, with those bright monotone white lights overhead, and an incessant buzz droning into your skull from the trademark origins of said previously mentioned standard faculty lighting.

"Oh shiot the backrooms?!" That was probably Soul.

Why yes I am keeping that typo, but also while he and her also were looking around they noticed that it may not be The Backrooms but instead The Backroom, since there was only a singular room instead of the endless horizon of identical labyrinthian empty spaces. Go figure.

"Well this is a problem."

It was indeed a problem. They continued looking and saw that it was a room and that this came with the consequence of just being a room, no doorways, no windoways, and no ways that it appeared to have an exit.

In case that sentence was too butchered to make sense, they’re locked in here now. Looks like they’ll have to survive not kissing in here The narrator insists that thought came from one of them, probably the one who had to tell the other something wink wink.

Souls eyes dart between the empty space and Maka’s squinting, wondering what the actual heck is going on and probably if he’s crazy I guess since that seems like a reasonable assumption.

“Okay...” He reigns himself in, facing her directly. “I guess we should probably figure out how to escape, and probably pray we actually can all things considered.”

She fidgets. “Solid plan.”

So the two try to assess the current state of the backish room – Which unsurprisingly still did not contain anything text worthy – Until one of them sighs, probably both, and there is another hand holding, with sincerity.

“Look no matter what happens I’ll try to stay with you, we can figure this out.”

Queue title card of area.

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Part 1 – Limbo

As you may have guessed, there’s nothing much here.

This part is probably not going to be long.

The two decide to take different routes of examining the room – For Maka she focuses on her Soul Perception, while Soul physically runs his hands along every inch of the walls to see if there’s a secret hidden in them that he somehow wouldn’t have known with only his previous experience with this concept to be theoretical.

“Yeah, still not really getting anything, aside from you and me anyway.”

He sighs, as it seems his luck is similar. “Well this sucks.”

She wanders up to him, maybe to give him both an extra set of eyes and some optimism that usually one does not remain trapped in solitary room states forever (in better or worse implications), and sends him another smile that the will of some unforeseen force says he should enjoy seeing.

His glance flicks out with a sense of unease for a moment.

“Well, guess this isn’t the worst situation we could have ended up having.“ He reluctantly agrees. “Guess I could...”

She motions to him indiscriminately.

“Sit down with you and talk I guess.”

Soul shuffles a bit in place while pondering the implications of having to communicate, and the possibility that it could involve feelings and personal stuffs, and he’s not sure if he wants to do that since he is in fact the world’s most cagey bastard even if said world is currently just a box.

“What.. do you wanna talk about.” They lean against the wall, mostly that he did it with his shoulder to mirror her propping against it with her back, and she snickers slightly.

“You said you had something you wanted to tell me?”

He blinks.

“Did.. I?”

Her brows furrow with a sense of playfulness if not also a slight confusion. “Yeah? That why we ended up here in the first place, since you pulled me aside in the hall.”

He continues his stupefied blinking before she corrects herself with her hands motioning. “Okay not first place first place, but like before the room changed for whatever reason.”

The air is quiet a moment as he genuinely replays the events that have occurred just now, sifting through them to remember right before then and if he was in fact the one who was asking her to ask her something, and it dawns on him that maybe he was even if he has no idea what it was he wanted to ask in the first place.

“I’m not sure...”

But he looks her in the eyes, certain that whatever it was it was probably important.

“Guess we have enough time for me to figure out that out, though.”

.

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Part 2 – Indecision

They pull away from the wall when suddenly it starts to shift.

The air feels almost like it’s vibrating, fidgeting like an innumerable swarm of busybody insects as the room tints to a passive shade of grey. Along each four cardinal walls soon stood four differing objects, still as if always having been there.

The closest: A couch. Black and white, plush, but strange as that soft feature appeared to stem entirely from being made of stuffed toy rats.

Across from that: A chessboard. Similarly colored while retaining a sense of normalcy being made of wood and carved plainly, albeit lacking any sort of seating to go along with it.

To the right: A bookshelf. Topped up and down with loads of books, all of different colors and most likely of different subject matter. Still they sat but quietly they beckoned with how densely populated the whole shelf was kept.

And finally: A piano. It remained silent and patient.

“...The hell is this?”

Unfortunately no answer was returned as the gleam in Maka’s eye had already taken her to personally inspecting the bookshelf of its contents, much to Soul’s eyerolling. She seemed excited though even if she still wouldn’t admit she’s absolutely a nerd.

“Wow, they’ve even got Dante’s Inferno on here...” He simply saunters away from the unsettling rodent affair, glare suspicious and unyielding toward the more concerning addition to their imprisonment.

“This feels like some sort of trap, if I’m to be honest.”

Her hair whips as she shoots a look to both him and the obvious transgressor.

“What?”

A chuckle turns her away from the book she was readying to dive right into (just a closer examination of its sudden appearance, of course), arms now crossed with that sass she never lets up even in stranger times. “A piano isn’t suddenly going kill you.”

His squint narrows further.

“Factually incorrect, actually.”

He continues before her stance has a chance to go anywhere. “Look, Black Room yadda yadda, but also people have been killed by pianos before. Usually dropped from great heights but there was that one guy who got ran over once.”

His hands motion away her imminent questioning. “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t trust a damn thing about any of this” – Each point is further emphasized with gesturing – “At least two of these relates to our personal interests, this one’s just freakin’ weird, and this… I dunno actually, looks like filler I guess.”

Maka’s analytical gaze does another brief sweep before falling back onto the rat couch with a growing smile, which he immediately also did not trust.

“...You really freaked out by the couch?”

He fidgets subtly. “...It’s weird.”

That smile overtakes her face and sends him into further restlessness, especially with how she’s flipping between him and it. “I think it’s cute.”

“You...” His blinks flutter more rapidly. “Maka it’s made of rats.”

“Soul those are clearly stuffed animals.”

“On an entire couch??”

“Oh come on, I bet it’s soft.”

He scrunches up. “God, please tell me you wouldn’t actually sit on that thing.”

Regret immediately seizes him when she gave him that look that told him oh I definitely would sit on that thing before she drops her arms, reveling in his increasing discomfort as she prods one of the vermin making up the arm.

“Yep. Feels soft.”

“Maka, please don’t...” Genuine distress starts to raise his tone when the head of the rat registered as movement when she pulled away, his fists clenched while trying to remain level headed. “We don’t actually know if that’s safe.”

A sense of playful desire to continue teasing him dissipates at his sighing, her arms now idle as she steps away, softened. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

His fingers scratch at the back of his hair, a murmur still keeping his focus on the potential dubiousness of him having just imagined that.

“`s fine. Just… bit on edge right now…...”

He lifts his eyes up again when she reaches her hand out to him, a huff breaking out his smirk while he meets her palm again, and a sense of comfort washes through him with seeing that despite it all her reassurance thankfully hasn’t changed.

“Like I said: No matter what happens, I’ll be with you the whole way.”

.

“So...” His eyes gloss over the different array of covers as he continues halfhearted moving each of them around. “What’s Dante’s Inferno actually about?”

Maka glances at him briefly, a smirk raised to his brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’m surprised you asked.”

“I mean I’ve heard of it before, just never read it… Probably nerd stuff…….” She snorts at his grumbled pouting. The books keep shuffling with her attention to them as she remains smiling, more enticed by the opening to inform than to seize the chance for further teasing.

“Well it’s a story about an Italian poet who journeys through each layer and learns something about what it really means and the significance of each punishment. Genuinely really fascinating, especially for the time period.”

Soul’s finger hovers over a volume of something seemingly animal related until he slowly resumes his prodding. “...Layers of what?”

She stops and blinks. “...The Inferno.”

He squints, their staredown lasting approximately 30 seconds before he takes a gander at connecting the vague dots.

“...Like Hell?”

At this moment he now wondered if she was trying to Morse code his stupidity through eyelids alone, lips raised in a patient but very noticeably befuddled shade of amusement. “Yes…? Did I not already say that?”

“No, actually.” He deadpans. “Just that there were layers and that could have meant literally anything without context.”

Her eyes visibly replay her words through her head, quickly dropping into bit of chuckles once registering that she did in fact miss that part of her explanation, much to the chagrin of one’s initial intentions.

“Sorry, I thought I mentioned that.” The book she left parted away from its brethren was then returned after having been held for long enough, a lighthearted hum resuming as she returned to inspecting the remainder of that particular shelf.

“Yeah, it’s about Hell. Each layer is divided by the different sins people who don’t want to make up for them have committed, starting from the outer edge and getting progressively more intense the deeper it goes. Pretty interesting this actually does reflect the layers of the Earth’s core while still going through all this different symbolism.”

“Yep that sounds like nerd stuff.”

He snickers as her knee retaliates into his shoulder, hands soon dusting themselves off when he finally reaches another shelf’s end with a sigh. “Well doesn’t look like there’s actually any secret switches behind any of these...”

The thud of a hardcover resounds as she frowns. “Yeah… At least it was worth a shot…...”

Blood flow restores to his legs as he levers himself back up into standing, fingers stretching as he shakes them off and rolls his shoulders.

“So, what now?”

Consideration immediately turns around to the other side of the room where – “Aside from that.” – and then moves over to the right, mentally interrogating the chess board already set up even without anything to sit up to it with. As it stood the potential hazard level of it simply being there was estimated to be fairly low, so she lets her eyebrows raise at the prospect of something entertaining for them to do. “Care for a game?”

“...Do you know how to play?”

They then plummet at the sheer audacity of the assumption that she would have said not. “Yes?”

Soul’s eyes roll almost fast enough to take his head along with the force. “Do you know how to explain the rules.”

“Oh.”

She clears her throat before walking over to the table, briefly examining it and then lifting up one of the pieces slowly, setting it back down to where it had just been after nothing strange had decided to finally descend upon them and Soul had done a thorough amount of anxious fidgeting. “Here.”

His hands tuck into the pockets of his steady gait toward the opposite end of the board – the white pieces – while she takes position across from him. The awaiting game was indeed carved in a similar manner to the table, but in the curiosity of his touch he began to wonder if it had been done in bone instead of wood…

“This front row? Those are your Pawns.” Her instruction gestures out to the relevant parts of the board. “This piece here is your King – Your goal is to make sure I don’t capture him while you try to take mine. This one is the Queen; Unlike the King who can only move one space at a time, she can go pretty much anywhere so think carefully about how you want to move her so you don’t end up wasting her abilities.”

He nods to confirm that so far things made sense.

“The Pawns also can only move one square at a time but only directly in front of them and if that space is empty. They can’t capture another piece directly in front of them, only when another piece is standing diagonally to it like this – “ A spare pawn is used to demonstrate the attack pattern. “ – If you can get a Pawn to my end of the board you can then turn it into any other piece you want.” He nods again, pieces returned to their proper spots.

“The rest of these are the Rooks, Bishops, and Knights. Rooks can move as far as they want but can only move in these directions, but you can capture whoever’s closest in any of the directions. Bishops work the same way but they move diagonally instead. And Knights move differently than any of the other pieces, kind of in an L shape like this – “ The ivory slides over multiple center squares. “ – both forwards and backwards. These ones can actually jump over other pieces so you can only capture with a Knight if another piece is on the last square they land on.”

The pieces are once again set back, this time tidied up and straightened forward, an excitement shimmering in her eyes that he knows is going to give him hell later.

“Other than that, the Pawns can move two spaces only when they’re first allowed to move and there’s a special move you can use once per game that lets you move Rook and King together, but other than that I think you’ll be able to pick it up as you go.”

Soul lets out a slow exhale while taking a moment to let that all sink in, eventually raising his shark-toothy smile up in accepting her challenge. “So, who starts first?”

“White does.”

Oh that grin definitely tells him she isn’t planning to go easy on him.

“Got it...” His hand hesitates out briefly, then extending a pawn from the middle, two spaces forward like he already knows to do so.

Let the game begin.

.

The makeshift door opened swiftly with her brisk entrance, eyes still bound to the journalings while she hurried over to him.

“Found something?”

A sharp sigh indicated that that may indeed be a yes, the papers soon sat in front of him as she did, that sternness worn unyielding even if her tone held no affront. “I think we just might finally have found the thing we’ve been searching for.”

Intrigue brings his fingers over his chin as she unfolds the relevant notes for him, scrawlings and sketches somehow still as concise as ever. His eyes tread lightly yet with care, soaking up every drop of information until eventually his gaze lifts, heavy with a newly added weight of dread even aside from the pervasive fear looming through the very air itself.

“A power greater than anything ever imagined...”

Her mutter sicks into him, thickening the tension. “Do you really believe this to be a wise decision?”

“Do you trust me?”

His thumb strokes in restless thought for a moment. “You and you alone, yes.”

“Then allow me to pursue this chance to finally end all bloodshed.”

That ideal did ring deep with him – It was no hidden fact that their very home had quickly descended into a battlefield, one that now only reeked of war and chaos in mere days, and ever the strategist he considered both scales accordingly before finally reaching his verdict, solemn yet proud.

“If it is your will, than so it shall be done – I’ll continue to follow it until the very end.”

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Part 3 – Hesitation

“Checkmate.”

An air of victory resounds in the final tap of ebony across the board, Maka’s triumph lasting for only a few second before suddenly the lights start to flicker, both of them instinctively distancing themselves from the table while the room already began to shift again.

At first, nervousness at the unexpected change of scene, but soon a bewildered uncertainty with their surroundings now being cozily lit, décor more fit for a small party.

Beside them, as they looked back, was now a wider table hosting an array of tantalizing food and drink. To Soul’s left stood a grandfather clock where the bookshelf once was, ticking quietly to itself yet unassuming. To Maka’s right came a soft tune of inviting music, spun from a record that played of its own accord. And at the remaining wall there sat a simple recliner.

“Well if didn’t look like a trap before, it definitely does now,” he mutters, tension keeping his movements stiff despite his attempt to seem calm.

Maka at least appears to take this in better than he is. “Hey at least it’s friendly.”

“That’s the part I don’t trust the most.”

Her laugh turns away as she continues surveying the room, though inevitably pulled back in when his frowning murmurs at the sound that didn’t strike him as necessarily grating. “Do you think there’s some sort of… symbolism in any of this…...”

The reflection of their earlier idle talk resurfaces with a thoughtful hum.

“Hmmm… That’s a good question actually.”

Truthfully the room did seem to actually know them to some degree even if so far fairly surface level, but it having struck more than coincidences threw her into full intrigue, a finger tapping out of sync against her chin as she wandered to the middle of the stage.

“Well this is clearly some sort of party scene… Maybe it has to do with being outside our comfort zone; Like there’s stuff we’re familiar with, like you’ve got the music and food, but then there’s this sort of sense that… That sort of feeling that you just want to go home, you know? Since there’s a clock that constantly tells you the time and a chair maybe someone would want to sit on instead of moving around.” Her arms then drop to the side with a humored aside. “Or this actually is some kind of Hell and we’re not supposed to fall for temptation or something like that, either one.”

His brows furrow as he sinks a little more. Well he could definitely believe that latter just from the piano alone, though that only raised more questions as to what they’d done to end up in that kind of place to begin with, or when they were going to be able to leave for that matter.

“The last version of the room ended up changing after we did something; Maybe we have to keep choosing the correct options until we can find our way out.”

“Oh, good idea.” Her owl eyes take to immediately assessing their next course of action. “Okay, that will probably get us killed. Don’t really know what the chair would do but kind of don’t want to see how that could go wrong. Hmmm… I wonder if...” She moves her examination along the clock’s height, souring when nothing out of the ordinary revealed itself before swiveling away again. “Guess that leaves the record player. Maybe we’re supposed to shut it off?”

Soul ponders this as he also has to consciously pull his hand out of him having started chewing his nails. “Last time changed when we played along with it, I’m not sure if trying to shut it down is a good idea.”

He then tenses up at how much her eyes immediately light up.

“Oh we should dance!”

His entire being immediately scrunches into itself.

“Oh come on; I showed you how to play Chess, you can show me how to dance! I know you’re way better at it than I am, anyway.”

One long drawn out sigh later, he reluctantly admits that so far that logic is safest and most promising thing they have to work on, a timid arm extended her way once he’d slowly trudged to the center of the floor. “Here...”

Not even his pout could remain sure of itself as she bounded up and eagerly accepted his invitation, fitting right into place in a way that drew his grin out helplessly.

“Okay so I assume you know how legs work, but uh… First basic step goes somethin’ like this…...” The gears in his head gnash wildly over trying to figure out how one condenses a lifetime ago of formality into a single comprehendible list until they’re suddenly knocked out of alignment, his balance startling back when her attempt to match his movement puts her too close too fast. He brushes it off with a laugh while straightening them out to try again.

“Okay, uhhh...” And then clears his throat to reset his posture. “Yeah I don’t think I can explain it the same way you can. I’ll try to make sure you can follow along, but uh...” He can’t resist loosening up a chuckle at how serious her face said she wanted to take this.

“Just think of it like how we partner – Let me um… be your Meister right now.”

“Got it.”

With a deep breath, he takes a basic step, then another to feel for the general movement. Slowly he pulls her along, letting her familiarize with the pattern, before he eases into bringing them closer to the beat of the current song, falling into the rhythm that he made sure not to get swept away in as long as she was there to keep up with him.

.

The water swayed along with his feet, soon slowing to an end when he reached the chamber where she stood ahead of him. His eyes fell affixed to objects she revealed in hand as she turned:

One constantly shifted into itself while the other pulsed outward, both glowing mysteriously and mesmerizing enough to hold him at bay, still even while she promptly addressed him.

“These are it – We finally have both keys to unlock an end to this madness.”

And him the third…

He finally breaks away back to her sober gaze, resuming his trek toward the stone platform with a sullen breath. “You’re truly certain this will end in our good favour?”

“You have my faith. I’ve studied extensively enough to understand the process and as long as we remain together we should be able to control the outcome how we desire it.” His footsteps pause right in front of the steps up. “Are you truly prepared to walk this path with me?”

The stone answers quietly beneath his climb, gentle fingertips meeting her knuckles as their eyes locked, tender and understanding yet firm in resolve.

“My oath is sworn unbroken.”

.

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Part 4 – Stagnation

Click.

Their steps cease when the song comes to an end, the needle’s aimless wandering soon fading into silence while the room shifts away again.

This time it appeared much simpler yet more abstract: The scene laid barren except for two standing chairs, facing both opposite ends of each other and up against the walls, the floor of which contrasted both sides – red and green – in a spiral pattern that twirled directly into the center until neither were distinguishable. This color also ran up the surface of all sides but faded halfway into a muddled shadowy ceiling, which consequently revealed the lighting to now originate from an ornate crystal chandelier that was notably hanging somewhat precariously.

Enough to fall and hurt someone if it was swayed too much, Soul reckoned.

Maka pulls away, gears visibly turning in her eyes quick to contemplate their new puzzle, frowning as she eventually hazards at its reasoning.

“Duality.”

“Hm?” It was a hum less about it making sense and more for prodding her train of thought.

“Conflicting viewpoints – There’s two opposite sides facing away from each other, but eventually they work around each other until they meet in the middle.”

That definitely seemed clear enough to be true, but there was still a clue lacking enough to bring his thumb over the corner of his mouth in pondering. “So what does that mean for us?”

Her frown continues twofold as she continues working through it before bringing him along.

“The first room we went ‘against each other’ while the second room we ‘worked together’, so for this room...” She perks up when a dot connects. “We come together as equals, like Resonance!”

He hums his agreement to that conclusion. “You showed me something, I showed you something, so now we have to show each other something?”

“Yep!”

A smile twitches up at her triumph before it lowers again, thoughtful as his glance flicks around briefly. “...So what exactly do we have to show each other?”

That was actually a very good question, one that quieted her again while it became mutually obvious that unlike the previous two iterations there wasn’t nearly as much to do here (aside from sitting and staring straight at a wall, but Soul wasn’t too keen on that even if his legs started to want to convince him otherwise), and as she moved along reassessing either side her face eventually lit up with her hands clapped.

“Oh, I know – Here, you stand over by the green side!” He hesitates a moment until her persistence in the matter slowly shuffles him over to the other chair, Maka then standing proudly opposite and eager to give instruction.

“It’s like you said when we were dancing: you took the perspective of being a Meister, and now I’ll take the viewpoint of being a Weapon before we meet in the middle as partners!”

His brows furrow, staring up at the chandelier with unease over having to be anywhere beneath it, but he complies for lacking any other possible solutions. “So we both just kinda pretend to be each other’s roles?”

“Yeah – Maybe we can take steps forward when we feel like we get the hang of it so that we’re both ready at our own pace.” Soul nods as her face then slips into full concentration, a sigh quietly puffed out while he closes his eyes to focus too.

A Meister… Not too different from being a Weapon in that they were two halves working towards the same goal, but the way both went at it from separate angles as a default.

He had to eat souls, she did the legwork to fight for those souls, and now… he has to picture what it’d feel like if it were the other way around.

Soul’s spine straightens at the sound of her foot shuffling.

He doesn’t have perception or a special wavelength, but most people don’t. He also doesn’t move as quickly as she does, but that’s something that he could probably work on if he wanted… Besides, he works better thinking quickly and figuring things out on the fly, more of a backseat “observe and adapt” kinda guy than he prefers to admit.

Though that does make him wonder what would make him decide to pursue being a Meister to begin with……

Soul meanders forward a little when her steps continue.

Would it be for the same reason he left as a Weapon? Would he have even considered that as a possibility, taken his life in another direction even if it wasn’t sparked from an existing passion?

...Would he still be willing to defend her life even if he had nothing to do it with?

Soul peeks out at her steady approach toward the spiral’s center.

Of course he would, she’s his partner, he’d do everything he could to keep her safe even if it meant risking himself, Weapon or not. The scar embedded across his chest was a reminder of that, one that would remain for the rest of his life… But would he do it again?

Soul watches her progress.

Would he still take the hit for her if he was on the other end? Would he have even gone into that fight if he’d known the danger that they were in?

Would they have even been there to begin with if it’d been a different night?

Soul stares directly at the crystals hanging directly above her head.

Could he have done something to prevent it in the first place?

“That doesn’t look safe.”

Maka looks at him confused, but all he can see is the light dropping and shattering her. “The chandelier, it looks like it’s going to fall any minute.”

“Oh.” Threat swayed in his gut as she simply gazed upward, and especially when her returned smile defied all risk. “I think it looks sturdy enough – Here, you should see it with me. I can jump out of the way if it starts moving.”

He wanted to shout, rebel against the impending dread and get her away from the looming danger as quickly as possible, yet timidly he walked to take her hand, trust peering up at a newfound view unfolding above him.

The light reflected through all the individual crystals, bringing each one to life against the dark horizon, like stars shining through a midnight sky. In the middle of course was the moon, so radiant it formed a complete circle with its luminescent shards now its crowning petals.

It was… rather pretty, actually.

Her fingers felt warm in between his, her eyes illuminated brilliantly even if it was lit with a bit of I told you so, though genuinely he could sense it was more for getting to share the experience than anything.

He sighs out an awkward show of teeth, smile inevitably mirroring hers while a glint of curiosity eventually rekindled. “So, do you remember what you were wanting to ask me?”

A stammer drops his jaw and flusters it helplessly as his mind proceeds to replay through everything again.

Maybe in truth he always did have that question in the back of his head, but maybe it isn’t one he ever needed to ask. She was always there for him, ready to take his hand whenever the moment needed it, and him… Maybe he just worries too much.

Despite everything she really was strong. Maybe that’s what really made them partners.

“Oh, uh...” Soul loosens out a goofy little chuckle before lifting it away back to the ceiling, deciding it was probably better to just enjoy what good did manage to come from all this nothing nonsense.

“Ah, not really…...”

But the questions still remained.

.

His face finally emerges out of the red hot liquid, lungs gasping desperately as if the engulfing heat crushing his body was soaking right into his chest.

This… This isn’t……

Metallic sting blurs his vision, but even before he fights to free his eyes open he already sinks in the weight of the surrounding sea, a seemingly bottomless chasm of blood. The worst part is it wasn’t his. The best part is it’s everyone else’s.

His face contorts through several wild emotions until it collapses into laughter at how comforting it actually is.

He slips back into submersion while laughing and laughs at how great it would be if they all joined him.

.

.

Part 5 – Regret

Their fingers tense together when the light flickers yet again, fading into a fixture much more dim and plain. The dark ceiling mellows into a dull grey, which fell over the rest of the walls except for the rust spread along the floor slightly over them, the odd monotony only noticeably broken by the frequent smears and splotches of pitch black ink seemingly coated by someone’s haphazard wandering.

Soul didn’t like this room.

The two remain in hand even while this shift leaves both unsettled before an interrupting echo of bare footsteps break them apart, his arm naturally extended in front of her to prepare guarding her from their unexpected visitor.

It was Soul. It also wasn’t: He wore casually untidy clothes different from him, but the main thing that set them apart was his stare, hollow yet wide as if he didn’t have lids while a smile wore halfheartedly on his open lips.

It wasn’t necessarily with hostility but it was… off, in every way imaginable.

This was especially true as he then followed up with digging his fingertips into the edges of his teeth, running the dark ooze along the end of his tongue until it all fell to the side, Soul’s entire body recoiling into disgust while more ink dripped onto the unclean floor.

And then it spoke.

“Look who just showed up.”

His voice coming out of that face was low and raspy, his tone accusatory and straight to the point as he stood his ground. “Who the hell are you?”

It only laughed.

“Do you think you’re the main character or somethin’? That you can’t feel pain? That I couldn’t just beat the shit out of you and let you watch her die? Do you really think you’re fuckin’ invincible or some shit?”

The stammer caught in his throat was quickly interrupted by Maka shouting beside him. “What do you want with us?!”

“Could you actually kill him if you needed to? Would you watch him die if you had to?” They both shuffled back as it began approaching.

“Did you really believe your actions don’t have consequences?”

.

Soul watches as the pitch black rushes toward him.

Soul watches as his chest tears wide open.

Soul watches as molten flesh rains from his skin.

Soul watches as his body melts into the floor.

Soul hears a scream as he can no longer gasp out from his crushed lungs.

Soul’s back slams into something, air unable to pass in or out as his sneer continues toward him.

“Do you really want to die for her? Do you actually want to keep feeling that pain?” He locks up when a hand rams right next to his head, trapping laughter nearly broken into screaming. “You want to be ripped open again?! You want another scar matching the other way, or fuck it you can just tear all of it off and start all the fuck over again!! Maybe if you keep getting hurt enough you can finally get it through your thick fucking skull just how mu– ”

Force blurs by too fast for him to understand what it was, but eventually he registers it as Maka pinning him to the ground before her fist collides with his face, a confusing calm numbing into passive silence when she just… keeps going.

Every hit was struck with her full weight, repetition until black kept splattering out and yelling, wailing even, rang indecipherably through the stiff air, continuously reverberating against the cracking mush even when it’d long stopped moving. Eventually, her chest only heaved, quieted except for a choke he then identified as sobbing, shaking as she soon lifted herself and slowly turned with a whine leaking out from underneath the mess of ink and tears.

“I’m sorry...”

He remained motionless while her posture tightened and started curling into itself.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…...”

He should do something. Say something, walk to her, move her away from the body.

But he did nothing.

Felt nothing, didn’t know what to feel or do or say, just watched her face drip and sounds shaking her downward before a fit of chuckling snaps them both back.

The body began lifting up, head pulleying from some invisible string while darkness spilled out where his face had been onto its clothes, painting all of it black as his voice hollered out undeterred.

“Damn girl, you really just shot past Wrath and dropped straight into Violence!”

Boisterous cackling spasms from the spew of ebony as it then erupts into dozens of pale wings, all writhing and coveting the front of its head while its back burst and sprayed out into four greater wings, two black, two red. Eyes of dark rings and crimson split open upon their feathers, staring and dripping more ink onto the pool now consuming the flooring.

Fear, dread coiled around his chest, steps quickly unsteady when the wall scoops him up and slams a cage door over him, silver bars to match the golden cage now also surrounding her.

“Maka!”

There was no time for even a response, the body hopping up on top of his imprisonment for its weight to swiftly plunge him into the abyss with a howl.

“Going dooooown!!”

He barely catches the chain lifting her up as fast as he descended, his stomach churning with nothing to grab onto while he plummeted, faster and faster through the darkness, until suddenly the stop jars him, leaving his side crashed into the now swaying cage.

It didn’t take him long to realize he was currently being suspended right over a sea of red, the heat and stench no doubt being blood, pooled in a horizonless dark chasm that made him recoil before his voice resumes its tune.

“So, did you really want to die for her?”

His head whips up to his body still crouching over him, rage now finally reaching its boiling point. “Is there really something so wrong with wanting to protect her?!”

“No, you still don’t get it. Let me spell it out for you then:”

.

.

Part 6 – Isolation

“You’re all alone now.”

Fingers grip over the bars as it crawls halfway down, looming over him upside-down with innumerable white feathers squirming through the gaps.

“You swore to dying for her. Kept carrying all the weight of the pain so she wouldn’t feel hurt.” Its large wings outstretch, eyes crying crimson that dripped meaninglessly into the rest of it. “This is your consequence.”

His laugh then echoed against the metal as it climbed back up to the cage’s chain.

“I’m going to leave you now and let you wallow in it, all to yourself just like you wanted.”

The cage sways a little more while its hands and feet pull it along the chain’s length, Soul’s palms slamming into the sides while shooting upright. “He- Hey!”

It continued making its way up until eventually it faded into the obscurity of the shadow above,  the silence soon deafening even when his back landed into the bars again, sliding and curling his chest against his knees with his arms limping around them. Despite the heat steaming from below, he only felt cold, empty, and… alone.

A sniffle trembles his shoulders, breath unsteady while his arms coil in tighter to hold it in place. His eyes wander through the abyss and are offered nothing in return, nothing left for him but the memories and his words.

Upon reflecting, the blood directly in front of his view begins to bubble, raising into a mirror image who’s head just barely left the surface.

His wild hair floated and dragged onto his pale face, draping around his dark round eyes in a way that gave more resemblance to a fish, especially when the surrounding pool streamed out of its mouth, freeing out a soft murmuring hoarseness.

“Hey, you seem lost.”

Soul’s lungs stuttered before finally cracking his voice out. “Yeah…...”

“Yeah, me too.”

He blinks at him for awhile before chiming in again.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?”

Soul swallows the pressure still sitting in his throat, a sigh tumbling out while meekly looking away. “I dunno, I guess… I just wanted to keep Maka safe because that’s what I’m supposed to do, but now it’s like I wasn’t supposed to, or I’m doing it wrong or something……...”

“You care about her a lot though, right?”

Soul nods. “...Yeah, but… I think I hurt her…...” One long breath shudders out from his sniff. “...Not, not physically but, I think I hurt her from… not talking about it…… Like how much it still hurts even though I ignore it and just keep saying I’ll keep getting hurt for her………...”

“Not all acts of good are wise, and not all acts of evil are foolish, but still we should strive to be the best that we can be.”

Soul peers up at his light smile.

“I don’t think it was really your fault. You just did what you thought was best and sometimes there’s no real clear answer, especially when it’s something you’ve never really dealt with before.”

He watches him for another moment, smile continuing.

“It’s never too late, by the way. You can ask her about it yourself if you still want to.”

Soul slowly perks up, even if unsteady. “...How? I’m still locked down here...”

“You care a lot about Maka’s pain, but are you willing to try caring for your pain too?”

Soul pauses, until eventually, he nods again.

“Then let me help open the door for you. You just have to get up top and start climbing.”

Out of the blood then emerges arms upon arms of pale hands, countless fingers reaching and grabbing the cage steady before a few stray limbs pull the side bars away.

Soul swallows, cautious, but soon lifting himself up and crouching through the doorway to hang against the other side, feet balancing onto a couple palms that carefully bring him level enough to the roof for him to now stand on top of it. His grip clings tightly to the chain’s links, tense as he looks back at his unmoving reflection one last time.

“Just keep climbing and don’t let go!”

And with a deep breath, he begins his ascent, steadily working his way up, one step at a time.

.

.

Part 7 – Perseverance

His hands interchanged their grip around the chain as he persisted his journey upward, his feet dutifully following each motion while passing onto each stair step. It was a long hall, dull in a truly neutral grey, inclined so extensively that the horizon remained consistently vague.

The weight of the climb already dragged on him. Exhaustion ached his body, weakened his stride under the uncertainty of any visible end. Made his arms plead this was good enough, his legs beg that it wasn’t worth it, but he knew that she would have tried to her fullest and that she’d want him to succeed too, so he carried on.

Beside his climbing this hall appeared just spacious enough to be able to host another person next to him, bringing along its reminder that he was traveling solo. A twinge of burning sparked from it, twisting over how he was left enduring this, but he smothered it in knowing she would gladly extend her hand for him if she was here and settled into gratitude, simply hoping she is safe.

Yet that spark reinvigorated itself much more furiously, a loathing now falling directly upon himself. Maybe this fate truly was deserved, a punishment for his consequences being truly just deserts. Though it soon tempers when memories wash back in, both of her lament despite best intentions and the newfound promise he’d sworn, mellowing him into holding for the chance to make things right again.

...But does it even matter? Would anything actually change in the end, if there even is an end to this? Scars heal on their own, don’t they? What difference does it make between just getting over it and throwing the pain at someone else…… But… The pain wasn’t just physical. He was terrified, still scared it could happen again, happen to her, and the darkness that came with it never left his head. That stuff doesn’t just go away, even if you bury it. And seeing how she still reached for him and wanted to be at his side despite the hurt inflicted on her, maybe she… Maybe it’ll be okay, if she helps him unearth it, even just at his own pace.

His footsteps lightened and fueled his hastening, determination empowering as a feeling then squirmed in his chest. It murmurs to him that they’d been happier when he kept the question to himself, yet he reminded it of how she was the one who asked him again first. When it pointed toward his controlling worry, stubbornly fighting her meeting in the middle, he counters that even with their different views she still believed in him trusting her, and the weight of his body lifted at the experiences they can still share together.

The feeling began gnawing on him, told him that he was just using her for his own gain. Yet he stood his ground, firm in their efforts being mutual while assured that neither of them will leave each other behind, and his legs raised him higher than ever at the goals they can still both work for.

And finally it seethed, demanded that she’s already rejected his selfishness. And he contented, knowing that she’ll be waiting for him the same way he would for her. Because they’re partners, and that’s what partners do, so his arms kept reaching with greater fervor at the connection they can still call theirs.

Calm eased through him, the feeling quieted as it simply asked what it was he truly wanted.

He just wanted to be with her again.

Suddenly the hallway begins to shimmer, that monotony reflecting brilliantly, almost blinding, as pure light engulfed everything surrounding him. Hope hurried his ascent, hands outstretched until they latch onto a much sturdier link, turning that light red as he pushes past it and through the heavy curtains where his eyes soon adjusted to a familiar shade of reds and shadows.

The Black Room.

To his relief, the first thing he notices is Maka – black dress swishing around her as she shot up from the lone chair sitting aways from the curtain.

“Soul!”

Waves of emotion float a smile on up until it quickly sinks when he also registers the noise, head turning beyond the fabric to watch another version of himself – a black suit with a face obscured by long bangs, swaying as it played that dark piano in a tune he immediately recognized. Soul looks back at her pouting.

“He’s been playing Für Elise nonstop for several times in a row now.”

The way she huffed that sentence out made him want to laugh, instead only blinking while deciding to ask the more important question in any case. “Are you doing okay though?”

“Aside from having this song engrained into my soul, yeah.”

He snickers at her wryness before it softens up considerably.

“What about you – Are you okay?”

His breath tenses up, gut reaction stuttering it until it jolts when a harsh stray note drops the room into stiff silence, that other self now looming his direction like a weeping willow with roots of midnight judgement. Soul swallows, then shutting the door behind him as he finally takes a step forward, voice meek.

“...No.”

Maka stills, tone unchanged but remaining gentle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really...” He’s quick to follow up his mutter with a sharp sigh. “...but I need to ask you.”

She moves forward a few paces slowly, patiently awaiting as he spends a moment composing himself, and eventually he forces the words out.

“Do you…...” One breath at a time.

“Do you hate me?”

Her brows furrow, confused. “Hate you?”

“Are you mad at me. For getting hurt… and… not talking about it…… acting like it never happened, and just… saying I’ll keep getting hurt, even though……...” His chest shudders, constricted. “...it still hurts…...”

She takes a deep steady inhale, thinking, his eyes vulnerable while she answers calmly.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m frustrated, but I’m frustrated about a lot of things; I’m frustrated that you got hurt, and I’m frustrated because I feel like I could have done better, but I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault.”

The constriction winds up his throat and her sigh lifts, not quite into a smile, just something positive.

“I genuinely appreciate that you’re still here, and that you’re being open with me. It means a lot and...” Her body audibly tenses. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you’re hurting.”

Maka watches his breath sway uneven, teetering until he timidly walks toward her. He can’t say for certain when those old Black Room clothes slipped onto him but that was never surprising, fingers gripping along the seams of his slacks like a child shaming away from its parent’s imminent disappointment as he closed their distance, Soul now standing only a few feet away.

His stance wobbles, aches at her heavy exhale, and finally the weight truly collapses him, slumping onto her shoulder as the air all chokes out.

“I’m so scared. I’m so afraid of you getting hurt and I can’t do anything about it. I’m fucking terrified I’m going to lose control and one day you’re going to end up dead because of me.” Heat sputters from his chest even under the warmth of their arms embracing closer. “I hate that I’m not as strong as you are. I hate that I keep making you feel like shit because I can’t deal with being weak. I hate this stupid fucking curse and having a demon in my head all the time that keeps telling me it’s my fault you’re going to get hurt next.”

Moisture leaks down from his face but he doesn’t care, just holds onto her more, never wants to let go while sobs continue pouring out.

“It hurts so much. My scar never stops aching and I try to forget about it and hope it just goes away. I keep having nightmares over and over again about when it happened and it happening to you and me hurting you, and it… it fucking sucks. I wish it would stop but I don’t tell you about it because I know you blame yourself, I know you think you’re the reason I got hurt, but you’re not. You didn’t do this to me, life just fucked us over and...”

His voice was loud, ugly, and a mess, but it was his. It was both of theirs.

“...It’s not fair. It’s not fair Maka.”

All he could do was cry, both of them. Just finally let out all the pain he’d been carrying for far too long now, let go of the burden he tried to keep shouldered on his own, and let her help lift the weight that had sunken his chest away from hers.

In that moment their grief was deeply shared, and his shadow, now moving back to whence it came, finally brought that fallboard to its close.

.

.

Part 8 – Resolve

Soul scoots the piano bench out a little before taking a seat away from the instrument behind him.

It was a wonder they even managed to clean the mess from their faces, but he was feeling tons better now, and judging by how she comfortably sat next to him it seemed she felt the same way. He wasn’t sure where that other version of him went, hadn’t seen when it’d even left, but that too was a welcome change as they simply got to have the room to themselves for the time being. And with a nice, calm breath of relief, quietly his voice lifts up to her again with a timid glance.

“Thank you, for um… listening to me.”

Maka welcomes it with her own lighthearted smile. “Hey, you know I’m here for you when you need it – I really am glad you came to talk to me about it.” She then laughs aside a little. “I think we definitely both needed this, anyway.”

He follows, albeit weakly. “Yeah, sorry, I just…… It’s not easy, um… talking about this kinda stuff...” And smirks awkwardly. “Sorry for being kind’ve a jackass about it.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it. It’s been hard to deal with, but you know… I’m proud of you, for reaching out. I know it takes a lot of strength to do that.”

Their eyes remain locked, stammer caught in his throat all over again until he gives it up, gaze averted down to his fingers aimlessly fidgeting with themselves even when his voice eventually squirms its way out, quiet but genuine. “Thank you.”

The two then simply wallow in each other’s company, thoughts just drifting through his hands before deciding it’d be okay to keep freeing them up.

“So, um… How did you end up here?” He gestures vaguely around the room to clarify. “Like nothing bad happened before I got here?”

“Oh, no I just...” She thinks briefly, answer facing the chair she’d first been waiting in.

“He said I was free to go, but I didn’t want to leave you here so I just waited for you to come back since I knew you would.”

A laugh returns over to him, shining through all uncertainties. “Pretty sure he was trying to get me to leave though.”

Soul chuckles lightly, soaking in both the warmth of her mirth and lighting curiosity, then willingly indulging it to lean more into its comfort.

“Yeah, it was pretty weird down there, but uh… Basically I promised I’d try to care about myself more, and I climbed up for awhile to get here. It definitely kinda sucked but um...”

He looks up to her with full sincerity.

“...It was a question I needed to ask you.”

And Maka extends her full appreciation in return.

“That’s good, I’m glad you made it out.”

Though his face does become a bit restless when a gentle humour makes her start to shy away. “...I do feel a little embarrassed though now that I know what the question was actually about.”

He scrunches. “...What did you think it was about?”

More laughter shoots out while she flutters about nervously.

“Well y’know… You suddenly pulling me aside into an empty room after you looked like you really wanted something all day, and I just… I don’t know.” The emphasis of her hands flopping down mesmerizes him, leaving the gears in his head slowly turning until they begin speeding up and contorting his expression through several unexplainable emotions before she cuts it off, huffing.

“Look: Just because I can see your soul doesn’t mean I know what you’re actually thinking half the time.” Huff then muttering into a pout. “Boys are weird, okay?”

This finally breaks him, uproarious cackling shaking haphazardly before he whips back enthusiastically. “Girls are also weird!”

“They’re all weird: People are weird.”

The deadpan quickly descends him further and drags her along with him, taking him a solid good minute to catch his breath for when he eventually meets her again, voice softened despite his sharp grin.

“You really are my best friend, though.”

He soon hesitates, fingers back to fidgeting with the seam. “...No offense to everyone else, obviously, you’re just um… You’re the coolest person I know and I genuinely appreciate you being there for me.” And he then faces her in complete earnest. “I want to care about both of us.”

So she truly meets him in the middle. “We both can.”

Their shared admiration beams while he extends his hand, her gladly taking it even before he asks.

“Partners?”

“Partners.”

Newly kindled hope and determination sparks up from within the bond of their resolve, igniting Soul’s sharkiest grin and Maka’s telltale smirk, which soon slips into something unexpectedly casual. “Hey do you wanna go get ice cream?”

He snorts. “Yeah, y’know what I’ve had enough of this room – We can keep moving forward together but who says we can’t also live life how we want too you know?”

“Live life and fuck Medusa.”

The two begin to stand up as he nods in full agreement. “Fuck Medusa.”

And as he shambles up onto his own two feet, hand firmly in hand, they both walk together side by side across those old checker tiles and eagerly chatter all through the exit, finally finding peace in closing that door shut.

.

Gently he picked the teacup up, letting the aroma drift in before taking a nice sip proper.

Ah, what a pleasant blend.

Quite well done if he says so himself, pairs excellently with the early morning view upon this balcony. A crisp delicate flavour to match a cool yet refreshing sunrise, to which the sun itself greets the day already hard at work.

Yes, this shall be a good day indeed.

He takes another fine sip, most certainly pleased with himself on its taste. Two creams, two sugars.

A good blend always needs a good balance in sweetness, though it was no lie he tended to be a bit more indulgent than most. Perhaps he’ll dare to make a visit today, but who would he be fooling to say he doesn’t make this consideration every day…

He sets the teacup onto its platter, soft clatter then reaching the table he seats at before his eloquent voice finally comes to life.

“I bet you’re wondering where the probable ruse lies, if perhaps it were all a dream or such events holds no bearing beyond the imagination.”

He lifts his cane resting faithfully by his side to give it a graceful twirl, suddenly halting to face its head up for a grand emphasis.

“Fool! The story was but in twain; It happened long ago, you see.”

The end is then swiftly brought upon the floor, like a gavel signifying its supreme judgement.

“Well done, the two you so followed did not meet lips. I’m sure such a challenge was quite trialing, but the reward of your efforts must be well worthwhile. Perhaps you’ve gained greater wisdom for further endeavors, even.”

With a flick of his wrist his magnificent hat tips, parting with a gentleman’s last word.

“And so it would appear our time together now comes to a close, but fret not – We may meet again if you so wish. Always more stories to tell, more secrets to unveil… Some possibly even already upon the horizon, hm.

Until then: fare thee well!”