#door entry device

[sw5w]

You Are Free

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:12:09

[europalocks-blog]

Convenience

Keyless Entry: smart lock eliminates the need for physical keys. You can unlock door with a smartphone app, a key fob, or even through biometric methods like fingerprints.

Remote Access: many smart locks allow you to unlock your door remotely, which is useful if you need to grant access to someone while you’re away.

Enhanced Security

Access Logs: Smart locks can provide detailed logs of who entered and when, adding an extra layer of monitoring and control.

Temporary access codes: you can create temporary or one-time access codes for guest’s service providers or other, ensuring that only authorized individuals can enter.

Integration with smart home systems

Automation: smart locks can integrate with home automation systems, allowing for seamless control along with other smart devices

Voice control: many smart locks are compatible with voice assistant like amazon alexa, google assistant enabling hands-free operation.

Improved Accessibility

For Those with Mobility issues: smart locks can be easier to operate for people with disabilities or mobility issues, as they often offer touchless or simplified access method.

No more Lockouts: with keyless entry the chances of locking out are significantly reduced, which is especially helpful in busy or stressful situations.

Durability and reliability:

Weather Resistant: many smart locks are designed or withstands various weather condition, making them suitable for external doors,

Battery Backup: most smart locks are battery operated with a backup power source, ensuring they remain functional even during power outages.

Ease of Management

Centralized control: if you have multiple smart devices, managing them through a single app can streamlined operations and make home management more efficient.

Auto Lock Feature: Some smart locks come with auto-lock functions that ensure the door locks automatically after a set period, enhancing security.

Customizable Access Options

Personalization: Users can set different levels of access for family members, friends or service providers and easily modify or revoke permission as needed.

Is it worth the investment?

Initial Cost: smart locks typically have a higher upfront cost compared to traditional locks; however, this cost may be offset by the convenience and security features they provide.

Ongoing costs: some smart locks may require subscription fees for advanced features or cloud services, so it’s important to factor in these potential ongoing expenses.

Technology Dependence: Relying on technology means you’ll need to stay updated on software updates and ensure your devices are compatible with your smart lock.

Overall if you value convenience enhanced security and integration with smart home systems a smart lock can be a worthwhile investment. It’s important to assess your specific needs and budget to determine if the benefits align with your lifestyle and preferences.

To know more about the electronics locks: https://www.europalocks.com/electronic-locks

#smartlock #smartdoorlocks #electronicdoorlocks #smartlocksforhome #smarthomedoorlock #elock #bestdigitallock #digitallockformaindoor #digitaldoorlocksforhome #keylesssmartlock #smartfingerprintdoorlock #smarthouselock #electronicdoorlockwithremotecontrol #smartlockformaindoor #digitalhomelocks #digitalsmartdoorlock #electronicdoorlockwithremote #digitaldoorlockprice #smartmaindoorlock #bestdigitallockformaindoor #maindoorsmartlock #electronicdoorlockprice #smartdoorlockprice #electroniclocksformaindoor #smartdigitaldoorlocks #smartlockondoor #wifismartlock

[thoughtportal]

This is a developing news story and may be updated as more information is obtained. If you value such information, please support this Substack.

On Dec. 1, a woman immolated herself with a Palestinian flag outside the Israeli consulate in Atlanta.

Now, according to the Atlanta Fire Rescue Department, the woman — referred to in their report as “Jane Doe” — is alive and “in stable condition” at Grady Memorial Hospital, where she has been since the immolation.

After repeated requests for her name, the department stated to this reporter in an email that it “does not disclose the identities of victims”. Repeated inquiries to Grady, which is a public hospital, went unanswered. The hospital houses the Walter L. Ingram Burn Center.

“Jane Doe” is 27.

When asked if they had made any comment to tell the public that she was still alive this entire time, the official at Atlanta Fire Rescue Department said they “shared the last updated with local media via email on 12/21/23. The release stated: ‘The victim remains hospitalized in critical condition. The security guard, who attempted to assist the burn victim, has been released from the hospital.’” Several internet searches on that quote produce no results. This would also indicate that "Jane Doe" went from critical to stable condition without public notice. 

Aaron Bushnell immolated himself at the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C. on Sunday, explaining “I will no longer be complicit in genocide” and shouting “Free Palestine!” repeatedly as he burned alive. So, his case — unlike many other self-immolations including Gregory Levey, Raymond Moules, Timothy T. Brown, Malachi Ritscher and others — has received some attention. Thus, “Jane Doe” being ignored fits with the usual pattern. Bushnell is the exception — probably because he livestreamed it. See “Ignoring Immolators Lulls the Society to Sleep.”

As Bushnell was burning himself alive, an officer pointed a gun at him, barking orders as if he constituted a threat. A security guard, Michael Harris, sustained injuries working to rescue “Jane Doe” — but there were similarities, where she was actually viewed as a potential threat.

At one point, the police report for “Jane Doe” refers to it as being a case of “arson”.

Much of the media coverage and general discussion of her self-immolation in December focused on if she had done damage. The Atlanta Police Chief said: “We believe this building remains safe, and we do not see any threat here.” The Israeli government released a statement: “It is tragic to see the hate and incitement toward Israel expressed in such a horrific way.”

Police records indicate that they obtained a search warrant and entered an apartment they believed to be associated with “Jane Doe” — initially using a drone:

The drone was able to relay information as to the layout and the belongings inside. After it was deemed "safe" entry was made with bomb technicians. While clearing the apartment no improvised explosive devices were located.

The police report also noted:

During the search a Quran was found in the bedroom along with a [sic] Arabic dictionary and a Hebrew dictionary. The bedroom bookshelf contained books related to fiction and fantasy. A "Drug use for grown ups" book was on the bookshelf as well. Two journals were seized from the bedroom. A thumbdrive was seized from the bedroom as well. A laptop computer was seized from the kitchen counter. A copy of the search warrant was left in the living room of the apartment. The front door [of] the apartment was secured before law enforcement left the premises.

When pressed for more information in compliance with an Open Records Request under Georgia law, Atlanta Fire Rescue Department claimed: “There is an ongoing and active investigation for the incident in question, which is why the only releasable information has been shared via the incident report. Investigative documentation is not available for release until the investigation is closed.”

[techcomengineering]

(via How Digital Door Access Systems Can Improve Workplace Safety?)

[smuttysabina]

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

[churipu]

( OO4 ) ★ bloody mess , nanami kento

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. mentions of blood, mentions of a lot of different pet names (sweetheart, love, etc.), hospital raahhh, anesthesia.

note. WHO'S BACK DOING THE 1K EVENT LAJSOS IM SO SORRY :< THIS ONE IS A BIT SHORT???

ENTRY ( OO4 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" "a lot." "oh, well — that's not good."

tags: @sad-darksoul @sweeneyblue1 @idkuluka @colorful-happy-shit @tomie-it-girl

the room reeked of blood. if you get a gist of it — you'd likely think of death.

you held your phone in between your shoulder and your ear, slightly trembling as your muscle stretched. chewing your lip in frustration, the device ringing.

once.

twice.

thri—

"hi, sweetheart."

you sighed out in relief, "hi kento, i have a really quick question because i'm trying not to freak out—"

nanami immediately cuts you off, "is something wrong? what happened y/n?"

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" you asked him, eyeing the trail of crimson streaming down your ring and pinky finger — blowing on it softly, foot drumming impatiently. what a bloody mess.

nanami was silent for a few seconds, but you could make out a brief, "a lot."

that's when you finally let out a panicked but calm, "oh, well — that's not good."

the male on the other line shuffled a bit, and you made out a few static noises, "what happened, sweetheart? did you hurt yourself?" he softly asks you.

"um . . . i cut myself cutting fruits. it's stupid but — i was trying to imitate fruit ninja . . ." you explained, full of shame. yet again, from the other line, nanami shuffled; creating out static noises, "i should probably head to the hospital, right?"

"apply pressure on the wound, i'm already around the corner, love. keep on talking with me." he replies back calmly.

you did what he told you to do without ending the call, wincing every once in a while from the jolt of pain.

soon enough, nanami burst from the front door — his eyes finding your sitting form, a cotton pad wrapped around your bloodied fingers. with rushed steps, he approaches you, softly grabbing your hand, inspecting the wound.

"come here pretty," he softly mumbles, tugging you gently, "we're going to the hospital."

two stitches.

because you decided to imitate fruit ninja — in your defense, it seemed really cool in the games.

with an IV attached to your other hand, you laid on the bed, half droopy as the anesthesia had already spread through your veins. limp and tired, a hard cast covering your wounded hand to press on the stitches.

"please keep watch of their hands, and try not to move it a lot during the healing process — come back in approximately two weeks time for cast and stitches disposal." you could definitely hear a doctor say — clueless to you or to nanami.

but you answered them nonetheless, slurring out incoherent words, "oh . . . doctor, yeah! okay, mhm, i got you, doc, i'll be back soon."

a few chuckling erupted and you shut your eyes, feeling fatigue take over, "how are you feeling, darling?"

fluttering your eyes open, you nod, "good. how about you, ken?"

nanami brushed your cheek gently, staring at your droopy state affectionately, his elbow prepped up on the hospital bed, "i'm good as well. are you still in pain?"

you shook your head with a stupid smile, "nope, just peachy," you smiled, "i have a dress on my finger—" proudly raising your index finger up, where the pulse oximeter was.

"it looks wonderful, sweetheart," nanami softly threaded his calloused fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles.

the wound was worse than he thought. at first, nanami didn't know whether to be worried about your poor choice of action or your wound in all honesty, but at this point — he's doing both at the same time.

the male was in the middle of a meeting with the gojo satoru when you called.

"right? and — i think they stole my fingers," you whispered, eyes darting around here and there before eventually trying to raise up your wounded hand. to which nanami prevented by carefully putting it down to your side, on the bed.

"i promise your fingers are there, darling." nanami chuckled at your behavior under the anesthesia.

"no, no. i swear, i can't feel them — the people stole my fingers while you were not here," you refer to the doctor and the couple of nurses who tended to you earlier, "go check them, i swear, ken. my fingers are gone."

cute. you were very cute. nanami knew he shouldn't be laughing at all, but the way you acted right now was . . . very out of character. the passion swirling in your eyes as you try to convince him that your fingers were stolen.

"angel, i promise. they're there, attached." he moved a few strands of your hair away from your face, "you can be angry at me if they aren't there."

bad choices of words. because the very next second, you were trying to pry open your cast to take a quick look at your fingers.

"no, no. darling, you shouldn't touch that," nanami stood up, carefully holding your unharmed hand. preventing it from gnawing at your harmed hand.

"'m trying to prove something here, ken . . ." you rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the bed, "let me go," your whines made him smile.

"darling, 'ts not good to touch it now. we'll get it taken off in a while," you softly whine at his words.

"'ts too long. my fingers . . ."

nanami cupped your face and pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, "they're there darling, i promise." he held out his pinky.

you childishly nodded, intertwining your pinky with his, "okay. promise."

"are they there?" nanami asks, holding your unharmed hand as he used his other hand to steer the steering wheel of his car.

it had been at least a couple of hours, and the anesthesia was slowly leaving your system — enough for you to be dismissed from the hospital. here you were, sitting in his passenger's seat, "are what there?" you questioned back, still feeling a bit droopy.

"your fingers."

in confusion you stare at him, "of course they are, in here." you mumbled, raising up your casted hand.

nanami chuckled, this was only something he and you (under the influence) knew.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[punkshort]

Come Fly With Me

Thank you anon for this request!

I'm double dipping and using this as an entry into my own AU August Writing Challenge ❤️

Pairing: pilot!joel miller x flight attendant!reader one-shot

Summary: You and Joel have a little fun in the cockpit.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), competency kink, public sex (kind of?), unprotected piv sex, reference to blow job, light spanking

WC: 2.5K

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome on board flight 1092, flyin' from Orlando to Austin. Our flight time today is 2 hours and 40 minutes, but I know a few shortcuts, I'll get us there a little quicker.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the familiar ripple of laughter cut through the plane.

On a personal note, this flight is particularly special for me. My wife is on board today, so if you see her, please don't listen if she tells you 'bout my drivin'.

Captain Miller just got married a few days ago and it was still strange to see the gold band around his finger. It seemed he was struggling with it, too, because you caught him fiddling with it every time you glanced inside the cockpit.

You listened from the galley, doing your checks and making sure everything was locked and secured as Joel announced the temperature, how to operate the systems installed in the seats, and how to call an attendant for help. It was a speech you heard a thousand times.

Finally, he wrapped things up with on behalf of myself and the crew, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Have a wonderful flight.

You stood at your post with a smile plastered across your face as you watched Marissa and Brian explain to bored looking faces how to engage the floatation device and oxygen masks hidden around each passenger when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You didn't even turn around. You knew who it was.

"Once we're clear, come and see me, sweetheart."

A thrill of excitement slithered down your spine and you tilted your face to the side so you could whisper, "you're a married man, now. We shouldn't be doing that anymore."

"A ring 'round my finger ain't changin' a goddamn thing here."

And then he was gone.

It took nearly an hour. A full hour where you had to do your first round of service, handing out snacks and drinks to people who mostly ignored you and rarely offered their thanks before you brought your cart back to the galley to clean up.

You heard the door to the cockpit open and Frank, the co-pilot, stepped out and stretched. He saw you and smiled, nodded his head, then asked if he could take ginger ale, like always. And your response was always the same.

"You don't need to ask, Frank."

He grinned and gave you a little salute before he did his rounds. Frank was very personable. He enjoyed meeting new people and hearing their stories. When an extrovert has a job where he meets new people every six hours or so, it's a match made in heaven.

And it's especially good for you and Joel because you both know he won't be back for at least half an hour, probably more.

Glancing around to make sure none of the other flight crew saw you, you tapped lightly on the door then slipped inside.

No matter how many times you saw it, and at that point it had to have been hundreds, the cockpit always left you breathless. When you first step in, you're instantly overwhelmed with lights, buttons, levers and monitors. The control panel was absolutely massive and intimidating. And it was one of the things that attracted you to Joel in the first place.

Watching him operate a plane with such ease, hardly even having to think as he went through the motions turned you on from day one. Part of you always thought he knew it, too. From the moment he saw you, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

And you loved every second of it, married or not.

"Captain," you said breathlessly, then grinned when he turned around and slid off his headset. The ache between your legs had been steadily growing for the past hour and you were at the point where if he didn't do something about it within the next five minutes, you would take matters into your own hands. Literally.

"C'mere, darlin'. Why don't you sit on my lap?"

He patted his thighs, clad in dark navy blue, same as your skirt, and you giggled before doing as you were told.

He hummed appreciatively and ran his big hands up and down your legs, which were spread wide and straddling him.

"Pretty little thing," he murmured. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and slowly, subtly, began to roll your hips.

"What if someone catches us one day?" you whispered before leaning forward to taste the skin under his jaw.

"Ain't no one gonna catch us," he assured you, dragging his hands up and over your hips to cup your ass and give it a firm squeeze.

You groaned and started to move your hips faster. You could feel his cock stiffening against his leg and you felt yourself clench around nothing. Fuck, you wanted him so badly. Every single time it was like this. Your need for him was never quenched. But still, you enjoyed teasing him from time to time.

"Didn't you just get married a few days ago?"

You felt his hands pause momentarily, leaving your skirt hiked up around your waist but your underwear still on.

"What's your point?"

You smiled and bit gently at his earlobe. "My point is, wasn't your wedding night enough to satisfy you?"

His hands resumed exploring your body and you felt a deep rumble vibrate from his chest.

"You know the answer to that."

And he was right. You did.

The answer was the reason he asked you to come see him in the first place.

Joel slid his fingers past the waistline of your panties, swiping them through your folds with a pained groan.

"Fuck, so wet, baby," he said. Your hips tried to chase his fingers, tried to keep him where you needed him most, but he was too fast.

"You gonna fly this plane and fuck me at the same time, Captain?" you murmured seductively. He smirked and nodded.

With your breath coming in quick little excited pants, you tugged on his zipper while he pulled your panties to the side.

"Need me that bad, huh?" he teased, and normally you might say something smart right back, but on that particular day you wanted him more than usual. Maybe it was the gold band that was catching the sun in just the right way, the thought of him being married now egging you on and making you needier, but whatever it was had the seam between your legs absolutely dripping for his attention.

"Oh!" you cried out, then immediately slapped your palm over your mouth when you first felt him breech your opening. He chuckled and continued to guide your hips down, watching in a trance as you took every inch of him deep within your walls while you whimpered in his ear and tried you best to remain quiet.

"Shh, darlin', I got you," he said softly, his own face pinched as he tried to hold back from slamming up into you. "I got you. Yeah, feel that? Feel how good you take me?"

You nodded because it was true. You could feel your body relaxing and opening for him, happily welcoming him back in.

He gave you a few minutes to adjust. He always did, and you appreciated that. You were always the one who ended up doing most of the work given the small space, so it was the least he could do.

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and gazed out at the clouds while he gently stroked your back. The view never got old. It felt so surreal every single time, to be staring out at such beauty while stuffed full of his cock. It didn't get much better than that.

He whispered your name, voice sounding strained, and you lifted your head.

"Who's needy now?" you asked with a grin. He bit lightly at your chin and gave one of your ass cheeks a quick slap with his palm, making you jump and giggle before you began to roll your hips over his lap.

Joel's fingers dug into your skin with a sigh, gazing up at you adoringly while you rode him just the way you liked. There was something so fucking hot about him having complete control over the aircraft, hundreds of lives in his hands every single day, but you were the one who had the power over him. You were the one he yearned for, ached for. Since the first day you were assigned to his crew, he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He began to request you specifically be assigned to his flights as much as your schedules would allow, then one day on a particularly long flight you had brought him something to eat without him even asking. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and you just desperately wanted to take care of him, so you brazenly dropped to your knees and took him inside your mouth while his eyes fluttered closed, the only noises filling the air came from the back of your throat and the tinny voice echoing through his abandoned headset nearby.

The rest was history.

He wondered if getting married might dull his desire for you, but he was foolish to think his feelings could ever change.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he growled when you picked up the pace and began bouncing in his lap, your tits jostling in your navy blue polo. He feverishly yanked the hem of your shirt up so it bunched up over your breasts and he made a pathetic little noise when he saw the white, lacy bra you had on underneath.

"Look at you, filthy thing," he murmured, squeezing at your covered breasts. "Fuckin' a married man like this. But I bet that just turns you on even more, don't it?"

You moaned and tipped your head back, chin aimed at the ceiling of the cockpit. His lips dragged down your throat, tongue shooting out to taste your skin, careful not to leave a mark. He was convinced at least Frank knew what you were doing in here but he didn't need to give the rest of the crew any reason to gossip.

Air traffic control crackled through the radio, checking in like they usually did when the plane reached a new zone.

"Hang on," he told you, so you gripped his shoulders while he leaned forward to pick up the receiver. His thumb hovered over the button to answer when he gave you a look. "Didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You grinned and resumed fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed down on the button, dropping his voice to sound more professional when he answered the man on the other end. He confirmed his coordinates, his credentials and his flight pattern with ease, all while you circled your hips and ground yourself down, your clit catching on the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You had to bite back a moan when he was talking, the pleasure mounting low in your belly making it difficult not to make any noise.

Finally, he put the receiver back and you moaned his name, your face buried in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you? Love gettin' fucked in here, love the thrill of it, huh?"

"Yes," you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as you closed in on your release. "Oh, god, Joel - fuck!" you sobbed when he began to lift his hips from his seat, fucking up into you, matching you thrust for thrust, grunting like an animal in your ear each time your hips made contact.

"Lemme feel you, baby. Wanna feel you shake for me," he said through clenched teeth. You gasped and nodded, mustering every ounce of energy you had left to slam yourself up and down on his thick cock, so desperate to come you didn't care if the door flung open and the whole plane saw what you were doing.

"Tell me how it feels, honey," he said. He must have been close, too. You've done this enough times to know he likes hearing you talk dirty to him right when he's about to come.

"Feels so good," you began, "you always fuck me so good. No one else has - shit - n-no one else has ever... oh, god, Joel," you whined, losing focus when your vision began to blur.

"Don't stop," he begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Keep talkin', baby, please."

"Will you come inside me?" you whispered, your teeth scraping against your lower lip, turning the skin raw. "Wanna feel you inside me the whole flight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he gasped, forehead beaded with sweat, face flushed and jaw slack. "Yes, yes, yes... fuck! C'mon!" he groaned, slapping your ass a little harder than before.

You kept babbling, telling him how big he was, how badly you wanted him, how no one else has ever fucked you as good as he does when your voice caught in your throat and you came around his cock with a strangled moan.

He didn't hold back. He circled his arms around your waist and fucked up into you recklessly, your cunt pulsing around him while your chest heaved and your fingers clawed at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself through your high.

At the last second he pressed his face against the side of your neck, pinning you against his chest. He moaned, his mouth falling open when he came, not caring how loud he might have been. It felt too fucking good to feel himself fill you up, feel his hot spend pooling and dripping down his length while he weakly pressed into you, prolonging his orgasm as best he could before his limbs went weak and he sighed against your chest.

You were cooing in his ear, telling him how good he did, how full you were, fucking thanking him while his shoulders sagged and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Can't get enough of you," he whimpered. You grinned and kissed the top of his head before lifting yourself off his lap. He helped you slide your underwear back in place, the fabric immediately soaking with your combined release while you fixed your polo and stood up.

"Shit, my skirt's gonna be wrinkled," you muttered while he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants.

"Next time we'll just have to take it off," he teased, making you giggle and playfully swat at his shoulder.

"Next time? What would your wife have to say about that, Captain?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your left hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He silently appraised the two rings nesting on your finger with a pleased smirk before letting you go.

"I don't know, you tell me."

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his lips, lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

"She'd say she can't wait."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[jimzittos]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤtime's tapestry... ? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ an event by @jimzittos

Welcome, time traveller! You stand before a mysterious time machine, its controls blinking with an otherworldly glow. A figure in a lab coat, Professor Zito, greets you with a warm smile.

'Ah, brave adventurer! Are you ready to embark on a journey through the ages? Buckle up, because this time machine will take you on a wild ride through the eras!'

You hesitate for a moment, then nod eagerly. Professor Zito hands you a time-traveling device.

'Set the dials to your desired destination, and hold on tight! But be warned: time travel can be unpredictable. You never know where – or when – you'll end up!'

You take a deep breath, set the dials, and step into the time machine. The doors close behind you, and a countdown begins...

'5... 4... 3... 2... 1... TIME JUMP!'

The machine whirs to life, and you feel the thrill of the unknown. Where will you end up? Only time will tell!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjourney enrolment .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤcomment ' joining ' under this post

ㅤㅤㅤㅤreblog and tag 3 + users who may be interested in joining

ㅤㅤㅤㅤdm me a number from 1 - 10 to recieve an era in time that you'll be making a moodboard off

ㅤㅤㅤㅤuse the tag ' jimzittos: time's tapestry '

ㅤㅤㅤㅤtag me in your entry or in the comments so that i won't miss your moodboard ><

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤadventure protocol .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ pls dont plagiarise !! you will be disqualified

ㅤㅤㅤㅤdeadline : september 20 !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤyour moodboard must be atleast 90% made by you ...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤtimeless treasures .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰¹ㅤㅤ100 reblogs , 5 custom moodboards , 3 custom png / loc / symbol / user sets

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰²ㅤㅤ80 reblogs , 3 custom moodboards , 2 custom png / loc / symbol / user sets

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰³ㅤㅤ50 reblogs , 1 custom moodboard , 1 custom png / loc / symbol / user set

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ notes .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ reblogs will be made on @zitosrbs

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ prizes that include other idols will be posted on @yawntapes since this is a bts focused blog !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ pls dont rush me while giving out the prizes ^^

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤclockwork invitations .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ( ignore if ur not interested !! )

@aqualogia @kthice @swiftwice @c-heriis @haenxn @liilithmin @jjk7h @haeheyy @cg1rl @galapogos @jazzitos @n-americano @kyunista @l1nque @miuhyein @fre-sitas @boyishdoll @awwriri @p-oisn @i-mmaculatus @imwonyoungs @yuimiuz @taroism @reiminders @aestradairio @obdosant @lilaquette

[fluentmoviequoter]

As Oblivious as You Think

Requested Here!

Pairing: Deacon Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: Your team thinks you're oblivious about your feelings for Deacon, so they try to push you together. Their plans fail because you already have a boyfriend, and you're not as oblivious as they think.

Warnings: fluff, uninvited flirting, Rocker slander, quick joke about shooting r (Street)

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Hey, do you want to spar?” you ask Deacon.

“Right now?” he responds.

“Why not?”

“Because I was kind of enjoying what we were doing before.”

You smile and lean forward to kiss Deacon again. He hums into the kiss as you raise your hands to cup his jaw. It’s been several months since you started dating Deacon, and moments like this, where you can express your love for him without worrying that one of your teammates will see, are your favorite.

You pull back slightly to inquire, “Then you’ll spar with me at work tomorrow?”

“Whatever you want,” Deacon mumbles before he places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you back in.

You smile against his lips and forget about your question when Deacon murmurs that he loves you.

“C’mon, Deac, you can do better than that,” you taunt from your side of the boxing ring.

“This is getting hard to watch,” Street grumbles. “Can’t you just make them kiss or something to put us out of our misery, team leader?”

Hondo rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. Your feelings for Deacon and his feelings for you are obvious to everyone in the station. Yet, you both seem just oblivious enough that you never do more than tease or engage in some harmless flirting. It’s getting tiring for everyone around you.

“Deacon, just hit her!” Street yells.

“Yeah, Deac!” you agree. “But note that he did not say hit on her. That’s for later.”

Deacon shakes his head as he steps forward and dodges a rear hook. Luca and Chris join Street and Hondo beside the ring as you spar with Deacon.

“Are we going to do anything about them?” Luca asks Hondo. “Or just let them figure it out the hard way?”

“They’re playing the long game,” Chris says.

“Then let’s hit the gas for them before this slow burn kills me,” Street suggests dramatically.

“Slow burn?” Chris repeats. “Time to take away your TikTok access.”

“Bookstagram.”

“Okay,” Hondo interrupts. “I actually agree with Street.”

“You have a bookstagram?” Street asks.

“No, playboy. I agree that we need to find a way to… nudge them closer.”

“Team ‘em up,” Luca says. “If they’re together on enough raids, eventually they’ll be ready to admit that they care as more than teammates.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Chris interrupts. “If they get together, they have to tell Hicks. He may not let them stay on 20-David together.”

The rest of your team turns to look at you and Deacon together. It’s easy to see your feelings, and Hondo decides it’s worth the risk. He cares about you as people, friends, first. So, if one of you has to transfer to be happy, he’s willing to replace one of you, though it won’t be easy.

“I vote we send Deacon to Rocker’s team,” Street whispers to Chris. “He’ll be running the show in ten minutes or less.”

“Street, you’re with me on A-side. Chris, Luca, you’re breaching the B-side with Black Betty,” Hondo announces. “Deacon.”

“C-side limited entry?” he guesses.

Hondo nods before he looks at you. “You’re with Deac.”

“Got it,” you reply.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

You follow Deacon to the C-side and adhere a small explosive device to the door. On Hondo’s cue, you’ll blow the door open and enter the residence to find your fugitive. You’ve been paired with Deacon before and have enough experience separating your professional life from your personal one to work side-by-side without endangering yourself or your team.

“Three, two, one, breach!” Hondo radios.

You detonate the explosive, then follow Deacon into the shotgun-style house with your gun positioned against your shoulder.

“LAPD, on the ground!” Deacon yells.

You move to his right to cover him as he tackles the man to the floor and keep your eye out for other hostiles in the small living space.

“Devon Patterson?” you ask the man as Deacon handcuffs him.

“Lawyer,” he mumbles against the floor.

“Is that your given name or did you change it?” you joke.

Deacon nods before he pulls the man to his feet.

“30-David, one in custody on the C-side,” Deacon alerts Hondo.

“Deacon,” you call, gesturing with your chin to an empty spot on the counter.

“What was there?” Deacon asks Devon.

“You tell me,” he replies. “Your girlfriend’s standing in it.”

You and Deacon look down at your boots at the same time. The soles are bright green and glowing, and you tilt your head as you squat to get a better look.

“20-David, we’re code 4,” Hondo calls.

“Not so fast, Hondo,” Deacon replies. “Be careful,” he tells you.

“Turn off the lights,” you request.

Deacon does as you asked, and your footprints become visible in the dark. There’s a large puddle of green fluid beside the kitchen cabinets, and you see where you stepped in it upon entering.

“So, Space Kook, is this phosphorous going to melt my boots or is it just reacting to the heat?” you ask Devon. “And before you answer, know that if these are melting, the DA will not be as nice to you.”

“It’s just the heat,” he mumbles. “It can’t get through the rubber.”

“Fantastic,” you reply with faux enthusiasm. “Hondo, we’re code 4.”

Deacon shakes his head as he leads Devon out of the house.

“Your girlfriend’s kind of hot,” Devon says as they exit. “And she watches-“

“Shut up,” Deacon interrupts. “You don’t have to talk to me, or anyone until your lawyer arrives.”

“Right.”

After Devon is placed in a transport van, you smile at Deacon.

“What?” he asks.

“He was right about one thing,” you explain, leaning toward Deacon.

“Being?”

“I do watch Scooby-Doo.”

Deacon releases a breath as you walk toward Black Betty. He’d wondered if you were about to admit to being his girlfriend with your team so close by, but you continue to surprise him despite knowing you so well.

“The criminal saw it, but they can’t?!” Street exclaims as he watches you walk away from Deacon.

“We have to step this up if we want them to realize quickly,” Luca says. “What if you sent them off alone?”

“They’d be too embarrassed or worried about repercussions to tell us if anything did happen,” Hondo answers. “Although…”

“Spit it out,” Street encourages.

“Deacon has to be in court on Monday. We could send her, call it presence for the jury, whatever. That way, they’re together, but there’s no field danger or anything.”

“Don’t push them too hard too fast,” Chris reminds Hondo as she joins them. “If they catch onto us before they realize they’re supposed to see each other, it won’t end well.”

“There is one other option that lets Deacon do most of the heavy lifting,” Luca points out.

“Don’t say shoot her and let him save her,” Street responds.

“We could-“ Luca stops to look at Street and asks, “Why would I suggest we shoot her?”

“You said heavy lifting, I don’t know.”

“Anyway, if we got one or two people to hit on her, maybe he’d realize that he didn’t like that. Push him to admit something that way.”

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Chris agrees. “But Deac could just get a little jealous and keep that trapped inside. He’s done it before.”

“Both,” Hondo says suddenly. “We’ll do both. Send them out together, but we wait for the flirting thing to happen naturally.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Luca asks.

“Look at her, man,” Street replies. “It’ll happen. It probably already does, and we just don’t see it.”

“If it doesn’t, we’ll recruit some guys from the station,” Hondo adds. “Let’s hope this works.”

“Hondo said you’re joining me in court?” Deacon asks as you accompany him to the locker room.

“Yeah, he said the jury might like to see two SWAT officers there, just a presence thing, no testifying,” you explain.

“Alright. What are you doing tonight?”

You look around quickly before you answer, “Being cooked for, I hope.”

“Yeah, I can do that. What do you want?”

“To eat or in general?” Deacon raises his brows, so you tell him what you want to eat, then drop your voice to add, “And affection.”

Deacon shakes his head, then pushes you away and toward your own locker as he begins to change. Spending the day with him sounds like more fun than waiting around HQ for a call that may never come.

“Rocker! We need to talk to your team,” Hondo calls.

“About what?” Rocker asks.

“Deacon.”

“You’re trying to get him to admit his feelings?”

“How’d you know?” Street asks.

“They’ve been together every time I see them. I didn’t think they’d do that willingly.”

“If Rocker can see the obliviousness, this might be easier than I thought,” Chris mumbles to Luca.

“What do you need?” Rocker inquires.

“We want some guys to hit on her, ask her out,” Hondo explains.

“So, he’ll get jealous and tell her the truth. Not bad. I’ll let my guys know she’s finally free game.”

“Finally?” Chris asks.

Rocker raises his brows as he drops his head toward his right shoulder. “50-Squad would’ve been flirting with her since she started, but I told them not to.”

“Why?” Street interjects.

“Deacon scares me a little bit,” Rocker admits. “We’re in, though. Let’s get those two on the same page.”

When you return from court, with no evidence that you held Deacon’s hand the whole time you were seated, you go straight toward the locker room to change.

“Hey, you’re 20-Squad, right?” one of Rocker’s guys asks.

“I am,” you answer. “What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you’d like to get a drink some time. We could share SWAT stories or just hang out, whatever you want.”

“No, thanks.”

You nod as you continue past him. It’s the first time you’ve been asked out at work, but you know he’s not new, so you’re unsure about why he's asking now. You see Deacon’s locker and forget about the unwarranted date proposal.

By the end of the week, you’ve been asked out once more and flirted with several times. You’ve concluded it must be a dare or some strange betting pool. When you walk out of the locker room on Friday afternoon, preparing for a date with Deacon and a relaxing weekend, you’re surprised by Rocker’s call of your name.

“Hey,” he greets when you smile at him. “Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Not really,” you answer, suspicious about where this is going.

“Do you want to grab dinner tomorrow?”

You furrow your brows before you ask, “Aren’t you married?”

Unknown to you, Deacon is standing in a doorway just a few feet away and barely contains his laughter at your questioning look.

“Well, yeah, but I- I’ve got this buddy, you know. He’s single, and maybe we could double date or something. Or not! But I was asking for him, not for me,” Rocker rambles.

“No,” you answer as you step around Rocker. You see Deacon and ask, “What is going on?”

“You seem to be in high demand,” he jokes with a wink.

“Not anymore.” You climb into the boxing ring and call for everyone’s attention. 20 and 50 Squads are preparing to leave, and you’re glad they’re all gathered together. “I don’t know what is going on with any of you but stop flirting with me.”

“Why?!” Street yells.

You raise your hands in question at his response but can’t reply before Luca steps forward.

“You have to do something!” he calls. At his side, Street nods as he agrees.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“Girl, just go out with Deacon!” Hondo yells from the back. “You’re oblivious if you can’t see he has feelings for you!”

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” Deacon quips beside the ring.

“Why else would you have turned all of us down?” one of Rocker’s guys inquires.

“Listen!” you yell over the murmured agreements of the other men who have approached you this week. “I’m turning all of you down because I have a boyfriend.”

The room silences briefly after the word boyfriend until everyone begins yelling. Deacon is quiet beside you, a smile on his face when you look over at him. Street climbs into the ring with you and gestures for everyone to quiet before he turns toward you.

“Who?!” Street demands. “I’ll run a background check.”

“Hicks already has,” Deacon answers for you. “Hicks, I’m clear, right?” he calls toward Hicks, who is watching the show from his office door.

Hicks sends a thumbs up, and you look around at your fellow SWAT officers, most of which have slack jaws at the news that you’ve been dating Deacon, that you’re serious in that relationship.

Deacon extends his hand, and you take it happily as you leave your speechless friends behind. As you step out, the men inside begin talking about you and Deacon… loudly.

“That was fun,” you say sarcastically.

Deacon turns and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up so he can kiss you. He pulls back, brushes his thumb over your cheek, and asks, “How could they think I’d ever be oblivious of you?”

“You did shove me out of the way in the locker room,” you argue.

“Do you always have to bring up violence when we’re kissing?”

“Maybe I’m just oblivious to your feelin-“

You stop short when Deacon leans in to kiss you again, losing yourself in him until 20-Squad exits the building and speaks over one another to ask questions.

[sw5w]

Training to Become a Jedi is Not an Easy Challenge

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:12:33

[gffa]

Hello! Do you know if Jedi quarters have passcodes? I feel like what I’ve seen in Clone Wars makes it seem like they don’t. Asking for fic writing reasons.

Hi! I would say that it's up to you, as we never see a passcode being directly put in, but that it would make sense either way. When Obi-Wan goes to visit Anakin to talk to him about Padme and Clovis, he just sort of walks right in, like they're automatic doors more than that his hand was lingering near the keypad entry. But lmao Obi-Wan probably would just walk right into Anakin's quarters and Anakin does the same to his. But when Anakin goes to talk to Barriss, he waits outside the door until she calls out, "Enter." and we can see there's a device by the side of the door on the inside of the room. When he throws her out of the room, we can see there's a similar device next to the door on the outside of whoever's quarters are opposite hers:

It doesn't look like it has a keypad to input a passcode, but it's also super expensive to animate stuff like that when you don't have a direct need for it, so it's up to you! Is it a simply animated keypad? A touch screen for fingerprints? Just a simple doorbell chime? Is it currently unlocked because she's up and around, but she would lock it while she's away? Any of them will work! (And if I'm missing a scene, feel free to chime in!) I also can't find it again, but I swear there was a scene in an episode of TCW where the Jedi had locks that were only able to be opened with the Force, that the Jedi had to hold their hand up to it and concentrate on moving the pieces around inside the door and there was no way to do it from outside, which I've always loved as another idea for how they lock their doors.

[casuallyanidiot]

Moon Waltz [Yandere M. x Gn. Reader]

Made this around a year ago for a Halloween writers collab on Quotev

There are a lot of amazing one shots from authors there, and there's another collab being planned for 2024 if y'all would like to check this out. The theme was Childhood stories, and I chose to base my entry on the theme of music boxes.

On Halloween night, you fall into a strange world and with an even stranger man inside of it. He says he can bring you home by the next full moon, but things start to become odd when you find yourself becoming part of the world too...

Tw. For confinement, blood, manipulation, long post

26k words

Music boxes had fascinated you as a child, specifically the more detailed ones. The kind that had pretty little porcelain figurines on top and flowers painted onto the sides were your favorite. There was something about the looping melody, the softness of the whole the, and the spinning little people living out their lives in complete bliss. You loved it, and often you would imagine yourself carrying out the rest of your life just like that. In hazy daydreams and bouts of pretend, you could pretend that you too were made of glass and covered in delicate gold foil, twirling to a lovely tune.

Of course, as a kid, your parents didn’t really trust you with actually owning any of these admittedly very breakable objects. In fact, after being caught playing with any music boxes in your house a few times too many, your parents had decided to pack them all up in places you’d probably never be able to find them. The ballerinas, fairies, and princes were all packed up in layers of Styrofoam and plastic, sealed away in some closet that your younger self was always too afraid to peek into for some reason. 

Still, you loved the music boxes, and you begged your parents to let you hear them, let you look at them and imagine, to create stories and lives with a simple set of notes and fine china. So, from then on, any time you did good in school or for any other sort of special occasion, your parents took one out for you and set it onto the coffee table. You would sit there, a ball of energy and nerves, patiently as a child could as your mother wound up the music box as far as it could possibly go and place it down. She’d walk out of the room, just within earshot in case you decided to be a bit too rough with it and leave you to your own devices.

You have fuzzy memories of those moments. The sun would be fighting through the cheap curtains, making the room all hot and humid. But the light was pretty, and from where you pressed your little face onto the table, you could see the specs of dust floating around in the air, taking the center stage under the spotlight of sunbeam. And while you dreamed of dancing with porcelain figures, the soft plinks of the music would thrum out. With each note, you could feel the table slightly vibrate, and you along with it. After rewinding it countless times, one of your cheeks would tingle by the time your mom came back to fetch it.

And she would rewrap your little ornate world back up, and place it back until the next time you did something that warranted such a moment of unbridled peace.

It had been years since you were that easily satisfied, though. Now, you were more interested in other things, things that a college aged student you ought to be concerned with. Namely, the bonfire that was going to be held tonight by the lake.

The October air was chilly to say the least, and you watched from the window with mild interest as a few brightly colored leaves were swept up into the dimming eve. You weren’t really trying to take in the scenery of twilight tonight, it just kind of happened to be that you were so bored out of your mind that you had started picking up on the little things again. In all actuality, you had been keeping an eye out for any trick or treaters still roaming about. There had been a steady stream of kids skipping down your street to pound on your door, but they had all seemingly disappeared as soon as the sun even began to set.

When you were a kid, did you ever head in that early? You could have sworn that you had stayed out at least past this point in the evening, but your mom had always made it a point to hand you a flashlight and trail close behind while you ran around, so it wasn’t like you really had that much freedom back then. If you had gone out by yourself, you would have imagined her demanding you back less than an hour after you’d go out.

But anyways, there hadn’t been any kids in a while which was good since the little pathetic candy bowl you had was pretty much dried up. When your parents left the previous day, they had pointed out the two bags worth if treats that they had bought in preparation for all the trick or treaters, but you just had to guess that either they were largely underestimating how many people came up to your surprisingly secluded house at the end of the road, or they had been skimping out on these poor children.

You shook the plastic bowl, bright orange with a jack-o'-lantern style face by the way, and stepped away from the window. Guess there wasn’t much left to do tonight. The house was tidy, most of the candy was gone, and it was late enough where you could call it quits and turn on some cheesy movie to pass the rest of night in peace before you went to bed. Pretty uneventful, but hey, you had done what your parents had asked of you. You flipped off your porchlight, the universal signal to any would be trick or treaters that you would be handing out nothing, and slumped down onto the old, plush couch set up in front of the T.V.

You sighed as you lazily flipped through some channels and streaming apps, before settling on some low energy movie and snuggling into the mediocrity of the cushions. 

If it sounds like you weren’t having a pleasant time, it would be, well because it was the simple, honest and sucky truth. To put it plainly, you had been a bit of a loser in high school. Not very many friends, not the best grades, and hardly any joyous memory for your youth either. It sucked, but you managed to get into a local community college. It was there that, for the first time in what felt like forever, you had started having a social life. We’re talking classmates inviting you out to lunch, going on spontaneous car rides with people for no reason other than to hang out, goofing off in convenience stores, and finally getting decent grades once again. It had been so long since you had felt this accepted, this welcomed by people your age. 

It was wonderful, to be honest. All that time in high school you spent imagining yourself in better scenarios, ignoring your hurt, and convincing yourself that you were fine with the solitude that being a bit of a social outcast brought you had made you miss truly feeling like you belonged. You didn’t know when you had stopped feeling like that in the first place, but now that it was back, you didn’t want to do anything that would risk this new life you had been building up recently. 

So far, everything had been going pretty smoothly, and even your rather protective parents seemed to recognize how badly you needed this, how much happier you had been since you actually started making friends. And even though you were technically a grown adult, they gave you their permission to go out as much as you wanted. It had changed your relationship with them slightly, too. No longer was it you asking them to allow you to go out, but simply stating where you were going to be and a rough estimate of how long you'd be gone. The only thing they had requested of you was that you turn on your location so that they could see where you had been or where you were. For safety of course.

So, when your friend who you had been gradually growing closer with had invited you out to an annual university bonfire by the lake, that was right by your house mind you, you were ecstatic. This was your first real party! Sure there would probably be some alcohol there, but there would also be a large amount of people attending as well. It was an event that was widely known among the youth of your area, and it had been held many years prior to this one. Everyone knew about it. It was safe, and it was an opportunity for you to enjoy Halloween with your new social circle. You were excited, to say the least.

And then… your parents said absolutely not. The “My house my Rules” rhetoric was strong throughout their refusal, and you had to admit a bit of defeat there. After all, they let you live in your childhood home after high school rent free. Seeing as they had already booked a small trip out of town for the day of and week after Halloween, they didn’t want you going out without anyone to look out for you. Not wanting to argue any further, you grit your teeth and accepted the verdict.

But now, on your couch, you scrolled through your phone and all the messages expressing disappointment but understanding that you couldn’t attend, a new determination grew within you. You were grateful that your parents were so concerned about you, but this was a chance for you to live a little! Besides, the location of the bonfire party was close  to your home, and you had traversed the nearby woods enough times to be confident in your ability to not get lost. You sat up confidently before shooting a friend a text in the large group chat.

Actually! I can come! I’ll see you there!

Immediately, your phone began to blow up with excitement at the news. You knew of your shy reputation, and you also knew that many of your friends were ready to get you out of your shell, to help you try new things, to let you do whatever and have fun all the while. You smiled to yourself and giggled. Yeah, you were giddy, but who wouldn’t be? For the first time in your life, you were going out into the night hours. For the first time in your life, you were going to rebel. 

You giggled shamelessly as you threw on a thick, warm coat and a comfortable pair of shoes that would do a decent job of carrying you through the woods. An infectious smile played on your lips as you rushed to grab a flashlight and a pair of bunny ears that your parents had left you as a sad excuse for a Halloween costume on the dining room table. You shoved the cheap mess of felt and plastic on your head before practically skipping towards the back door. Your phone was still nestled in the back pocket of your pants, and you were suddenly aware of what you were about to do.

Your parents, who had only forbade you for concerns of your safety… Did they really deserve this? Did they deserve this blatant defiance of their wishes? Of course not, but hey, if you left your phone at home, then they probably would be none the wiser to your absence. 

So, you went back to the couch and set the device down gently. Your mom would definitely be freaking out the second she noticed that your location had been turned off, then your dad would probably start calling you nonstop. At that point they would call the cops to the house and your ass would be found out. So, the best option would be just to leave it here and hope nothing too crazy would happen tonight on your way there. Hopefully you could get a ride on the way back, though.

You left the T.V running on low volume and left out the back door to venture into the woods. There was a big, infectious smile on your face and a pep in your step while you wandered off to meet your friends. This was going to be great!

This, as it turned out, was not as great as you had hoped it’d be. You frustratedly kicked a branch out of your way while groaning.

  “ Ughhhh, there’s no fucking way I’m this dumb,” you said as you stomped through the vague path made by the few people, mainly kids, that would wander through whatever particular section of forest you had wandered in. Yeah, that’s right. You, in all your excitement, had gotten lost. Who knows for how long, because you didn’t bother to bring a watch or anything with you.

The dark wall of trees loomed over you mockingly. Its colossal mass of leaves and bark blocked any view of the moonlight struggling to stream down, and you felt this crushing weight of fear that had not been there moments before. Your stupid, horrid confidence had tricked you into thinking that this was a good idea (part of you still believed it was), and now you were at the mercy of whatever lurked in the brush. 

Wind curled chillingly around the bodies of wooden figures and cut directly into you. Your fingers had begun to grow numb from their lack of protection, and you brought your hands up to cup the warm puffs of breath you let out to prevent fall frostbite. Your eyes, holding back tears of frustration, stung with the nothingness of the night. It really was too dark to make your way back home at this point. The path you had taken had gotten tangled up like a spool of cheap yarn, and you weren’t sure that there was a way that you could safely find your backyard again, much less your intended party. 

In your wallowing, your gaze fixed upon a faint glimmer from between the trees. It wasn’t particularly bright or dazzling, but the haunting void of the woods offered you no greater comfort. Even if it wasn’t anything grand, a clearing of some kind would be better than staying where you were. I mean, if you were already lost, then why not spend the remainder of the evening looking up at the stars? It was a weak motivator, but honestly the paranoia of the canopy was too much for you to bear. Who knows what was hiding in them? 

So, you stumbled about for a little longer. The tip of your shoe caught on roots that jutted out above soil, and your clothes snagged on whatever stray twig reached out, but eventually you arrived at the source of silver shimmer that you had spied.

It was a little clearing, serene and silent save for the rustle of breeze upon the otherwise still water of the pond. The moon, which you could finally see now, shone merrily on its surface. The reflection bathed everything in bright gray, a stark contrast to the utter darkness you had been struggling through for what felt like eternity. More than just the moon, you could make out the constellations stretching across the night without any interruption. 

You could hear no frog croak, nor the faint humming of bugs. The only thing that reached your ears was your own stilling heartbeat as you decided to rest against a fallen log. Truthfully, you were exhausted. The adrenaline of getting lost had taken a lot out of you, and you held little hope of actually getting out of this stupid forest until the sun rose. Part of you wondered if your friends would think it was strange how you hadn’t showed; You really, really hoped that they wouldn’t call the cops to do a wellness check on you or anything. You would definitely get busted if that happened. 

You groaned in relief as you sunk down to the ground. The cold and damp soil pressed into the lines of your hands, and you cringed slightly at the feeling. You would be super uncomfortable for the rest of the night, but that was just the price you would have to pay for being dumb. Though, as shitty as this situation was, the pond was kind of nice. I mean, it was almost glowing in a way that you would see in a pretty oil painting that had all of the brushstrokes still visible. It wasn’t the body of water you were looking for, but it was still nice. You appreciated the peace it brought you in that moment. 

As you sat there, trying to close your eyes and soak up your surroundings, you heard a very familiar sound.

Plink

Your attention was captivated by that single note. Your heart began to beat and ache for the hazy nostalgia it brought. You knew what it was. You had craved the exact thing as a child, and even now you yearned for the fuzzy warmth that you knew it would bring.

Plink

It was behind you, in the log. You sat up unbelievably straight and twisted to look through the rotting wood. You could feel small spiders and bugs brush up against your fingers, but you persisted. The soft notes rung out slowly, pathetically, begging you to wind it up so it could play to completion. There was a crevice where cold moss had filled in, and you reared your hands back like a snake before striking. It was a clumsy, exhaustion driven endeavor, but you knew you had to find whatever was making the music.

The tips of your nails bumped against something solid. Another note played. Another Plink; you had found it. With some weird sense of desperation you grabbed it and wrenched it out of its place. Your chest heaved with some anxiety as you held it under the moonlight. 

A music box, detailed and ornate like the ones you used to love. The glossy porcelain shimmered like it was made with the finest jewels, and you shakily gazed over the little figurines sitting together on a sculpted, crescent moon, smiling and sitting shoulder to shoulder in complete bliss. You laughed a little. How could you not? In the worst situation you had ever physically been in, you had found a small piece of joy in both the clearing and a trinket that a child version of yourself would have gone ballistic over.

There, on your knees with the dampness of the grass soaking into your pants, you wound it up. The little couple on the moon spun idly as you held it in your hands. There were bits of grime and dirt covering its surface, and you had to wonder how loved it had been. Was anyone missing it? If so, you hoped that they wouldn’t mind having the object find a new home. You knew that if any of your beloved music boxes had somehow managed to wind up in such an odd place, you’d be more relieved to find that it had been loved rather than ripped apart by mother nature. 

You could pretend there in that clearing with that soft tune, on a night made for pretending mind you, that you were anywhere else. That you were living a fantastical life full of romance, adventure, and surrounded by a kind of beauty that could only be found in little delicate pieces, painted with care and crafted to spark comfort. 

When the gears within had stopped turning, you found yourself more calm than when you had been frantically searching for a way back home moments before. It was funny how just a stroke of familiarity could ground you. You held up the music box once more to examine it fully, your eyes squinting with some effort. Still transfixed by it, you began to shakily stand up. You weren’t really sure why. Perhaps you wanted to just stretch out your legs a bit, or maybe you wanted to move around to get some more warmth back into your admittedly freezing body. It didn’t really matter as to why you stood, but as soon as your wobbly calves were placed under your full weight, you stumbled to the side.

You squawked out in surprise as you tripped and careened towards the surface of the pond. You held the little music box tightly, your hands automatically cupping around the figures, as you braced for the impact of cold, frigid water.

Instead, you were met with cold, rigid ground.

Shock raced through your veins as you bluntly landed on your side, all the air leaving your lungs in an instant. You couldn’t breathe. Your chest sucked in and in but nothing was happening, and your limbs flailed around wildly, searching for anything to help. You took in large gasps, certain that you appeared as a beached fish, while your vision blurred and you somehow managed to roll onto your back.

Your entire body felt like it burned, your heart was racing to the point it was painful, and the world was a blur of silver and black, but after a few moments of struggling to calm down and breathe properly, you were able to somehow feel alright. You didn’t feel like it, but you also weren’t suffocating anymore so that was definitely the better outcome. Your hands were shaking as you held them in front of your face, and you could barely focus on them properly. Beyond the tips of your fingers, you could see the porcelain box. It had rolled away after you had dropped it at some point. 

You groaned as you sluggishly reached for it, forcing yourself to sit up along the way. After briefly confirming that the object was okay and not damaged, you quickly came to realize one majorly glaring issue: there were no trees. There actually was nothing that even resembled the little clearing you were in. No rotting log, no moist grass, no pond. No, you were sitting on a brick paved path, the tile made a pearlescent white, shimmering as your gaze raked across it. You blinked slowly a couple times to make sure that you weren’t hallucinating, only to find a large gate before you.

How you hadn’t noticed it before, no idea, but what you could see plainly was its otherworldly beauty. Swirling white wood formed into a circle, Glowing bright in a way that resembled the shining pond. It resembled, to be frank, the moon. Your lips parted wordlessly. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered very confusedly. The more lucid you became, the more clear it was that you were no longer in the forest by the lake. You were, evidently, sitting in front of a gate that was attached to no fence, sitting at the end of a pathway. When you frantically turned your head, you were met with the sight of a sprawling complex of ornate buildings, all connected by covered wooden paths. The place was lush with plants and flowers, and lanterns swayed softly as they lit up their surroundings with a dim, comforting hue.

It was gorgeous, out of a storybook even, but it was, as you quickly realized, all in various shades of silver. What you presumed to be wood was a sleek dark gray, and anything else held the appearance of being bathed in… well bathed in moonlight. You tilted your head up quickly, and your breathing became rapid at the suspicion that had sneaked into your head. Up, there in the deep inkwells of the sky, were stars. Many constellations peppered the night like freckles, and they were clearer than you had ever seen before, even more so than earlier when you had arrived at the pond. It was breathtaking, but there was a lack of a certain presence that frightened you. There was no moon.

With that sudden realization, came a crashing noise. Your attention was snapped back to a lone figure standing on the path ahead of you, just before the complex. A tray laid by their feet, shards of shattered porcelain scattered about from what you presumed to be a cup, and the liquid held within it had spilled all over the ground. You were stunned, all the shock held within you being exemplified by the fact that standing before you was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

He too was not exempt from the grayscale of this odd world you had entered, and his shining eyes had been surprised by your sudden arrival to his home (?). Neither of you moved from your respective spots, until an excited, infectious smile spread across his lips.

“ Welcome!” He spoke as he rushed forwards. He crouched down to your level, stretching out his hands and arms in a beckoning gesture. You curled into yourself a bit, the music box still in your hands. He faltered at your hesitation, the corners of his lips falling ever so slightly, and moved back. 

“ Uhm, forgive me. You must be frightened,” he apologized quickly. The rushed nature in his voice was not lost on you, and his kind smile was stretched too thin for you to really feel comfortable, but he was offering his hand out to you. On the smooth surface of his skin, you could see a desperation that was oddly familiar. Your quickly beating heart stilled slightly before you began to take in an actual good look at him.

He had silver eyes, reflective like the rest of the surroundings, framed by long lashes that you were sure touched his eyebrows. His complexion, a dark gray, was shiny like glass. You could see no blemish upon his exposed skin. He was as mystical as your surroundings. He was tall, with a lean and nimble build that showed with every movement he made. His hair was braided neatly, and you felt a twinge of both envy and awe at the way his locks fell below his waist.

Slowly, as if you might die if you actually touched him, you reached out and put your hand in his grasp. He laughed, softly and so quiet that you weren’t sure you were even supposed to hear it, and From there you were quickly pulled to your feet and tugged toward the complex of buildings. The man led you through the open halls, which were more confusing than you had originally gleaned, shooting you quick, joyful glances. The wooden planks under your feet creaked loudly, there was some faint rustling from the flora, and yet other than that, there was no noise. It unnerved you to no degree. You clutched the music box closer to your chest as your ears searched for anything other than the whispers of the wind. 

It was almost apocalyptic, like you had stepped into the end of the world.

Finally, after winding through the halls, he stopped at a room with a curtain for a door. He brushed the sheer fabric aside and pulled you in excitedly. 

“ Here, sit down. I’ll make you tea!” he insisted. He put a hand on your back and pushed you towards a dusty table. A little stove and sink was in one corner, and it didn’t take you long to identify this place as a little kitchen. You didn’t know what else to do, so you pulled out a chair and settled into it. He bustled about, hurriedly opening cabinets and getting everything ready. You watched him wordlessly, not really sure what to do.

It was obvious that this man was not expecting your presence here if the shattered glass, that he had left by where he found you by the way, was anything to go by. The odd appearance of this place combined with the way you got there in the first place confirmed that either you were hallucinating, or you had somehow gone to a place that was definitely not earth. Your stomach twisted into tight knots at the thought of that. 

The soft clunk of a teacup on wood brought you out of what was likely the start of a spiral, and you looked up to see the eager, smiling face of the man. The steaming cup was pushed gently to your side of the table; he sat opposite of you, watching intently as you stared at the beverage.

“ I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made black tea. Do you need milk? Sugar?” He asked, already moving to get anything you desired.

“ Uhm, no, no. I’m fine!” you insisted. He sat back down quickly.

“ So uhhh, what is this place?” You cut right to the chase. You were too hopped up on adrenaline to really wait any longer. The pads of your fingers rubbed over the sides of the music box in a self serving manner as you swallowed nervously.

“ I will be honest, I’m not sure myself. I’ve been here for a while, though. I’m Samuel, by the way,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow. He seemed sheepish. It was like he was embarrassed about something small, like a pimple on your back, and not an entirely different plane of existence or wherever it is you were. 

“ Sorry if I seem…A bit odd. It’s been a while since I've, well, since I've talked to anyone,” he admitted. “ I’m terribly sorry if I've frightened you. You must be very confused.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you snorted out almost immediately. He winced at your grumbled words, and a pang of regret hit you. You uncrossed your arms. “ I’m fine,” you relented, “ just confused is all. I got lost and ended up here.” 

“ I see, could you perhaps recall what happened before you came here? It’s been such a long time since I arrived. I’m not even sure I can tell you what I was doing before I became part of this place,” he asked. 

“ What do you mean?”

“ I used to not live here. I was like you, and I used to roam as I pleased. This was a safe haven of some sort, and I kept returning until I felt as if I no longer wished to go back. That was ages ago, though. I can hardly remember it,” he explained. Odd, he looked only a few years older than you were. How long could he have been here to forget everything? Despite your concerns, you introduced yourself briefly and explained how you had strayed away from your path during the night. You briefly mentioned the party and took off your stupid rabbit ears that you were honestly surprised had stuck onto your head for so long at this point. You talked about finding the clearing and falling into the pond.

“ So yeah, that’s when I wound up uh by that moon thing where you found me. Here I am I guess,” you shrugged, not really feeling comfortable with his intense stare. The small little tidbits of information he had given you made it clear that the man was simply lonely. You weren’t exactly sure how long ‘ ages ‘ was, but you didn’t imagine that this little complex of buildings was a thriving social scene. You fiddled with the little figurines in your palms. The curve of the crescent moon fit into your palm like it was meant to be there, but they were starting to feel clammy from your nerves. You gently placed it on the table so you could wipe the sweat off of them, nearly missing the way he perked up.

“ Where ever did you get that?”

“ Huh? What do you mean?” 

“ Where did you get that? I’ve been searching for that for such a long time!” He exclaimed, reaching over to grab it. He snatched it up quickly, a large smile on his face. He held it up like it was a newborn baby, fondness etched into the structure of his face.

“ Oh, I found that before I fell into the pond,” you explained. Your fingers twitched, subconsciously you wanted to take it back.

“ Ah, I see. So it was out there… I would have been searching these halls for an eternity if it wasn’t for you. This is one of my most precious objects, you see.”

“ Oh, uh, you’re welcome I guess. Glad you could get it back,” you said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. The soft melody of the music box wasn’t something you could easily get out of your head, so you could understand his excitement at your discovery, but still that meant that you  were the one that would continue to remember that sweet song for who knows how long. Whatever, it was fine. You could probably scratch the itch by digging through an old closet at home and finding your parents’ collection. Speaking of which…

“ Uhm, how do I get home?” You asked. Your query seemed to break his joyous mood in an instant, his demeanor drooping like a kicked dog. “ I just, you know, I need to be back before people realize I’m missing. I’d, uh, yeah I’d get in a lot of trouble if my parents found out I snuck out,” you lamely explained. You hoped that he wouldn’t take you wanting to get the hell out of here wasn’t a reflection on his personality.

“ You wish to leave? Already?” You nodded, and he sighed sadly. “ I see. Well, it is a shame, really. I was quite enjoying our conversation. You seem like you have a lively character, and I’m sure that there are already people who miss your presence. I would’ve liked to further learn of your life and what it’s like out there right now, but that’s quite alright. Here, I’ll show you the correct way to exit this place.”

You felt relieved the second he stood up. Your cup of tea had barely been touched, and the pit in your stomach had become unbearable. Screw the party, screw Halloween, you just wanted to go and curl up in your bed, pass out and pretend that this whole thing had been just a very weird dream. You followed him out of the little kitchen eagerly, the tension melting away finally. After this, you’d probably be sore for days based on how stiff you were. 

“ I hope I’ve been a decent host. It really has been too long. I apologize for how…dysfunctional my home might seem. It really is beautiful, yet I find that there are simply too many rooms and halls for me to keep them properly tidy. I hope you didn’t mind,” Samuel chattered on as you approached the shiny pearlescent path that you originally arrived at. You considered his words briefly; they did make some sense. It would explain why the table had been so dusty even though he seemed sure about that being the first room he had in mind to bring you. It was only him though.  That gave the serene complex a lonely, melancholic air. 

You watched the way his locks fell down his back. They shone so brightly under moonlight that came from nowhere, and you felt a bit irked that you found someone so beautiful under such odd circumstances. If only you had met him at the party tonight. It probably would’ve only elevated the whole experience. Damn, if only you hadn’t gotten lost. 

“ Here we are,” he said softly as you approached the circular gate.

“ Does this really go back to Earth?”

“ I should hope so,” Samuel’s laugh was gentle and clear as a windchime. “ I mean this is how you got here. This is where I would go through any time I wanted to leave, when I used to do so that is.”

He reached a hand out, ready to go through the shimmering surface of the moonlike gate. His fingers grazed its surface, and his eyes widened slightly. He pressed his palm fully to it before turning to face you with what you could only describe as utter confusion.

“ What? What’s wrong?” You asked, concern clear in your demeanor. His gaze was pointed towards the ground, refusing to meet your eyes. “ Did it not work?” You gulped. At this point, you didn’t notice when exactly you did this, you had latched onto his arm a bit desperately. Finally, at this physical contact, you looked up to see his guilty expression.

“Ah, it, uh, it appears that we missed the window.”

So apparently, the gate that you had entered through only opened once a month on a full moon for a brief period of who knows how long. Samuel hadn’t been able to go through, so, because the universe loved you sooo much, you were stuck in this weird realm until when the next full moon rolled around, AKA, in a month. Basically you were stuck here. 

As pissed off as you were, there was really nothing you could do about it, so all you could do was really sit back and try to relax. Samuel had excitedly dragged you to show you more of the rooms in the complex. There were an incomprehensible amount of bedrooms, though you didn’t have much time to actually look at any of them properly before he had dragged you off to what he was most proud of.

“Here! You can have the room next to mine!” He had exclaimed as he threw open the door to an admittedly very nice bedroom. “ I’ll have to tidy it up a bit,” he remarked after you swiped your finger on the vanity surface and a coating of dust came up with it. “ I’ll rest here for tonight. You may take mine,” he stated. It wasn’t really an offer, more like a fact of the matter.

So you went to his room with a bundle of clothes Samuel had provided from a wardrobe. You had to shake it off for a little before you felt comfortable sliding into them, and they fit loose and baggy on your frame, but they were soft and comfortable so you didn’t particularly mind. You were alone for the first time since you had come here, and it was now that you weren’t swept up in the chaos of your temporary roommate's excitement that you were able to take in the true craftsmanship that was surrounding you. The furniture in his room was part of a set, the bed frame, desk, small armoire, chairs, and wardrobe all having vines and roses carved climbing up the surface of wood. 

It was lovely, and the curtains both by the small window and by the bed were a soft sheer silver, though you were glad that there was actually a door here. You weren’t sure that you would feel the safest if there wasn’t. Granted, there was no lock, but you’d rather have some kind of separation from a total stranger rather than none. There was a series of knocks, and you weakly called out,” Come in.” 

“ I came to make sure that everything was up to par,” he explained. “ Is everything alright? I mean, I understand that you’re not here under the most ideal circumstances, but I mean, is the room alright? I would like you to be comfortable.”

“ Yeah. It’s nice here. I mean yeah, you’re right this isn’t, like, ideal or whatever, but this is okay. Thank you for letting me stay here,” you said absently as you fussed with the sheets and pillows on the bed before sitting down. 

“ It’s hardly any trouble. There isn’t anywhere else to go,” he said pleasantly. “ Ah, I suppose I should leave you to rest. You’ve had an eventful night. Sleep well,” he said, hesitantly hovering by the door as he spoke.

“ Yeah, uh, goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He left after that. You managed to snuggle into the sheets without much difficulty. You had to admit, it was the most comfortable mattress you had ever laid on. It was like a dream, and you thought briefly about how you might actually be doing so. Part of you hoped that this was all some weird nightmare brought on by eating bad candy or something, and you were actually back at home laying on your couch. This was too elaborate, though. As you tried to fall asleep, you gazed at the pond and courtyard just beyond your window, watching as gauzy curtains floated on a gentle breeze wondering about what he meant that there was nothing else beyond here.

It hadn’t occurred to you the night before, but it turned out that the time here didn’t seem to pass the same as it did in the real world. When you had awoken, it was still night. When you left your room and asked Samuel, who was sitting in the courtyard by your door, about it, he had simply replied, “ That’s just how it is.”

He then asked you if you would like to help him clean up your room, and because you weren’t rude and would feel bad if you did make him do it all by himself, you agreed. He became elated afterwards, humming quietly to himself as he fetched some brooms, buckets, and rags from a small little closet down the hallway. 

“ I’ll make us some food soon,” he said, a smile settled on his lips, as he handed you a bucket. When he did so, his fingers brushed up against your own, lingering there for a few moments longer than you what probably would be acceptable. “ Do you, ah, have any preferences?”

“ Not really, just as long as it’s edible,” you laughed weakly, pulling away slightly. He nodded. 

“ I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.” 

The two of you got to work quickly. There was a thin layer of dust over every surface there. It made some sense; there was no need to hang out in a bedroom that wasn’t yours other than maybe for a change of scenery. Samuel made small talk with you as you swept, remarking on various items and books that he found while organizing things. There wasn’t much to be done really, the room looked as if it had been untouched for a long time. It wasn’t messy in the way where clothes and crap would be strewn around everywhere, but there were cobwebs that needed to be gone if you were gonna stay there for more than a night.

You had just finished up mopping the floors when the silver man paused in his dusting and suggested that you two finally take your break. You, running on an empty stomach, agreed pretty quickly. This led to you sitting in the open hallway outside of another small kitchen a couple doors down from the two bedrooms that were now being used. Your legs dangled over the side, your shoes brushing over the blades of shining grass. Behind you the soft sound of a wooden spoon scraping against a pan could be heard along with his humming. 

He had made you tea again, and this time you actually found yourself idly sipping it as a way to pass the time. It was peaceful here, you would admit that. Despite the large amount of skepticism you held, you had to acknowledge that as weird as it was, this was an okay change of pace. Yes, you would have rather spent your time doing assignments or strengthening your new friendships, but Samuel was nice if not a bit over eager, and there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with that. Maybe this was just a really weird way of making an equally weird connection with someone new. 

Plus, like you had noted many times before, he was insanely nice to look at. It was hard to not feel some small flutters in your chest when he looked at you like you were the only other person in the world, mainly because you actually were the only other person here. You were trying to not think about it too hard, though. You wouldn’t be staying here for long. Samuel handed you a small plate filled with eggs and rice with a pleasant expression.

“ It’s not very elaborate, but I hope that it’s enjoyable. I can make you something more flavorful at another time,” he said while taking up a seat next to you.

“ It’s pretty good,” you said after shoveling in a few mouthfuls, nodding with satisfaction.

“ That’s a relief,” he laughed. “ I’m glad that I don’t have to relearn how to cook or anything.”

“ Don’t worry about it too much. I’m not really a chef either. All I know how to make is some basic stuff like noodles. Oh, hey, that reminds me, where did you even get the stuff to make this?” You asked, gesturing slightly to the food. Samuel shrugged.

“ I’m not sure. It simply… appears. A Lot of items here just appear sometimes. There were times where I had to figure out how to use them correctly. Like the fridge. I’m not sure when it arrived or how, just that I had to figure out what it was used for. Some of my food just started appearing there from then on,” he pondered.

“ Hm, well that’s kind of cool,” you shrugged with a hum.

“ Yes, I suppose it is.”

Something that you noticed by your second day in the complex was that there was a lack of most modern technology. There were no radios, T.Vs, modern magazines, microwaves, computers or phones, landline or mobile, that you could find in the main building that you and Samuel were staying in. When you had brought this up to him, he had just stared at you with a slightly bewildered expression.

“ So you’ve never heard of a radio?” you asked a bit incredulously.

He shook his head. “ I’m not certain if I have. Perhaps you could detail it to me? It’s possible that I’ve seen one before,” he said earnestly, leaning over to you. 

The two of you had been sitting out on the lawn of the courtyard, just talking about various topics as they floated into the conversation. Your room had been cleaned out already, so now there wasn’t much to do but hang out. You had asked him if there was anything that he really had to do at one point, but as it turned out there weren’t any real responsibilities that came attached to this place. It was clear though that you were both interested in each other's lives, though, so getting to know each other was pretty high up on the list of things to do. 

“ Uh, never mind, It doesn’t really matter,” you laughed, waving off the whole technology issue. Samuel seemed hesitant to drop the subject, but then you started asking about other things, like how many rooms there were and if he had ever swam in the pond. Harmless topics like that seemed to bring back his excited chatter quickly, and the two of you continued on with your conversation. 

Though later, when you went to bed, you looked out at the stars and wondered just how long the silver locked man had been here exactly.

The third day you had woken up much earlier than Samuel, so you decided that it was time that you do a bit of exploring by yourself. He had shown you around the building your room was in briefly, you knew that there probably were more interesting things to be found in the other ones in the complex. You, in all your modern attention spanned glory, were curious and bored, so you quietly left your room so as to not disturb him and set out to check out the building that was closest to the gate. 

There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary there other than the fact that it existed in this realm to begin with. It was different from the building with all of the bedrooms, though. There were more places that seemed suited for gathers of various sizes. From small, intimate rooms with couches, pillows and lamps that burned dimly to a large extended banquet table that could seat an impossible number of guests, It was clear that this space was made to house people. It wasn’t just this building though, it was the one with all the empty rooms. This place was supposed to hold life, and the fact that it seemed so desolate despite you and Samuel was a bit chilling. 

Still, you continued to look around, poking your nose into random closets and paging through books that were far too old for you to comfortably sit down and read them. Just like everything else there, there was dust to be found on everything. You had been thrown into a few hacking fits just by sitting down on a few dirty chairs, the upholstery pluming out with grime. 

Eventually, you stood in front of two doors, more large and ornate than any that you had seen previously, so of course you had to go inside. There was no way that you couldn’t, given the burning desire to just get up and do anything. So, you went in to discover, to your surprise, a library. Instantly, you recognized that this space must’ve been used by Samuel regularly, for one, there were signs of actual life everywhere. 

The shelves of the library went all the way up to the tall ceiling, and they were packed full of novels of all kinds of genres. There were scientific journals and romance volumes crammed next to each other, there were history books galore, and you even spied some copies of Shakespearean tragedies shoved next to poets that seemed to weave silk out of words. Your fingers ran over their spines, trying to decide if you actually wished to read something at the moment. It wasn’t like you were doing anything better, though.

Still, there were books strewn out on the tables, candles that had been melted down to the stub, and loose papers stacked into messy piles, even messier handwriting scrawled on their surface. Everything had this old, antique sort of feel to it, one that you would see people trying to desperately recreate online for the sake of living up to some aesthetic. You assumed that everything that was out of the shelves had been handpicked by Samuel, so you began to look through the novels.

As you did, a few trends became very noticeable. One, he seemed to be a sucker for romance. The books that he seemed to read the most, the ones with the cracked spines and softened paper edges were all stories of grand love. You hadn’t known him long enough to properly assess his character yet, but you wouldn’t deny that you could see him being of the tender hearted type, and these stories with prose that dripped with honey seemed to prove that. Not to mention, his writings were all poems that also seemed to focus on the concept of finding one’s true partner. He dreamed of it frequently, it seems. You put down the poems, feeling slightly uncomfortable with looking through something so personal, maybe a bit too late, but hey, you tried. 

Another thing that became quite clear was that most of the books and novels in the library had been published during or before the late 1800’s. You tried to think not too hard about the implications of that.

Eventually, you found a relatively easy read and settled in to really dig into the book on a comfy little couch that surprisingly didn’t have much dust on it. You had gotten maybe 20 minutes into it when you heard the sounds of hurried footsteps, slamming doors and your name being called. You jumped a bit when Samuel came bursting into the library, breathless and clearly just a bit frantic. You blinked at him owlishly as he panted like he had just ran a marathon. The second he caught sight of your tensed up self he let out a large sigh and seemed to physically crumple.

“ Oh good, you were here all this time,” he gasped out, a weak, trembling smile meeting his lips. He wobbled over to you quickly, and you could only really stare back at him.

“ Uhhh yeah, I wanted to see if I could find any books to read to, you know, pass the time. Is, uh, everything okay? You okay? Have a bad dream or something?” You asked with clear concern.

“ Ah, no everything is fine. I just, perhaps I got a bit carried away there. You’ll have to forgive me. I became very frightened when I realized you were not in your room this morning. Then I couldn’t find you anywhere else and I, well, I became worried for a moment. It’s all well now that I’ve found you haha,” Despite his small laughs, you could see that Samuel was still shaking. From fear or what, you weren’t sure, but he was obviously not alright.

“ Oh, well I’m sorry. I, uh, didn’t really want to wake you,” you explained, standing up so you could stand by him and offer a bit of support. You weren’t really sure what was the best course of action to take here, but maybe being understanding was the best route?

“ Of course, It’s really no trouble. No need to apologize. Although, if you could, just please let me know where you’ll be ahead of time? It would save me a great deal of worry,” He asked, his brows pinched up in concern. You bit your lip. This was not normal behavior, to be so worried about a near stranger disappearing and all, but then again, Samuel had been here by himself for what you presumed to be a very long time. If you really were the first person that had come here since he started living in this place full time, then wouldn’t it be natural that he was instantly clingy to the first social connection he’s had in a while?

“ Uh yeah, I can do that. Sure, uh, do you want to uh, go back to the courtyard or something? I wanted to uh grab some books first though,” you agreed and gestured to the shelves. He nodded quickly, and you didn’t fail to notice how he scrambled to hide his various pages of writing behind his back. You  pretended not to, more for his peace of mind. You quickly gathered up any novel that had caught your eye and shuffled out of the library a bit awkwardly. 

The next few days were spent just lazing about and reading any books that look vaguely interesting, and Samuel stuck by your side as much as possible. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t, making up some excuses about wanting to clean a room or him forgetting an object by where you were hanging out, but it appeared that at one point or another he realized how lame he probably sounded so he simply just started following you around the complex. You didn’t mind all that much. He was good company, and it was clear that he was just worried about being a bother. 

You had called him over a number of times to your side, and his bright expression was admittedly pretty lovely. It turned out that he had also read most of the books in the library, if not all of them. You found that out after he made remarks about a fantasy novel you had gotten pretty engrossed in and subsequently spoiled the ending for you. He had been very apologetic afterwards.

Like most days, the two of you would sit in the courtyard and the open hallways, laying down and talking about random subjects. It was one of these idle days that you finally broached a topic that you had been dying to know.

“How old are you anyways, Samuel?” You asked while lazily flipping through some pages that you had already gone through. He, who had simply been watching you, blinked surprised. 

“I’m not exactly sure. I believe that I am about the same as you,” he shrugged. Over the past few days, the two of you had become slightly more casual with each other. Spending all day within each other's company was bound to do that, but you found it to be interesting.

“ Well like, what was the last year before you started living here full time?”

“ Hmmmm, perhaps 1899? I recall many being restless about the incoming new year. You must have experienced that by now,” Samuel hung his head back in contemplation. You blinked in shock.

“ Dude what? You’re from the 1800’s!?” You pushed yourself up, more of your attention put on him.

‘Dude?” he mouthed out, confused by your wording.

“ It’s 2023 on Earth right now. That would make you over a hundred years old,” you explained, awe laced in your voice. You crawled over to him in what you could only assume was in a super unhinged manner. “ You’re like, super old.”

“ I am most certainly not old!” he cried, crossing his arms in protest. You laughed, the most open and expressive thing you had done since you had gotten to this odd place, and rolled onto your side unceremoniously, your body shaking with little snorts. At your response, he could only grin.

“ Come now! You can’t be serious!” he laughed. “ I am not!”

“ You totally are dude!” you playfully shot back. From there, your conversation devolved into a messy tangle of jabs, giggles, and jokes.

 The quietness of the complex melted away slowly as you filled it with the music of your voices intertwining. You would say something silly, and Samuel would respond with naive confusion. He wasn’t used to your kind of humor, but by god was he trying. You could see it in the small pinch of his brows before he would throw all of his 17th century logic to the wind and join in on your fun. 

It was almost like you were a kid again, playing with some other child that you would probably never see again after you left the park. A temporary best friend who you would spill your entire family’s business to as you ran around a swing set. That’s what Samuel was to you in a way. There was actually something kind of freeing about knowing that anything that happened in that weird realm would stay there with him. There was really no reason why you couldn’t be friends with him, even if any relationship built wasn’t very permanent. Besides, he seemed to actively want to interact with you at nearly all points of the day(?) despite knowing that you would be going away in about three weeks, so who were you to really deny that?

At some point the gate had changed in appearance. You had noticed on maybe a week into your stay while taking what you guessed to be a morning walk. The library had been calling your name, probably a product of nothing else but boredom, and you had taken a quick glance in its direction. You stopped in your tracks when you saw that part of the circle had been darkened. 

“ Huh,” you managed out weakly. That was certainly strange, you would have to ask Samuel about that later.

“ Why don’t you clean the rest of the rooms?” You asked him the next day. You had been doodling on a piece of paper while he had been writing what you assumed to be a poem. He had finally gotten comfortable enough with you to actually start doing things that he liked to pass the time, and the two of you had settled into a random drawing room with a table low to the ground. There was a plate of cookies and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate that you had made before your little hangout session had begun. He had been slightly wary of your presence in the kitchen, but you just had to shoo him off so that you could actually treat him to something.

It wasn’t like you were a super experienced baker or anything, but still, you just wanted to do a little something for him. 

“Hmm, I haven’t considered it in a while. A while ago I attempted to keep this entire place spotless, but after a while of doing so, I failed to see the point. It was an Era, as you would say,” He explained, pausing his writing for a moment to visibly think about it. The fountain pen perched in his fingers dripped ink slightly, causing a small, black splatter to appear on the paper. You giggled softly. “ Why? Do you wish to see them clean? I’ll do so if you want. All I ask is that you stay by my side and help as needed,” he offered, very sincerely too. You tried not to think of the way your face might have flushed at that, nor did you pay any mind to the tingling feeling racing up your skin.

“ Nah, I was just wondering. It would be a pretty big project to upkeep this place like how you do with our rooms. Though it would be something to do. Maybe we could pick a random room and clean it up tomorrow?” You suggested as you ran a stick of charcoal on your own paper, creating random lines and swirls. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his lips curl into a fond smile.

You didn’t want to meet his gaze, for you were harboring a sneaking suspicion that you were developing a crush on your new friend. Sure you had only known him for a week, but stranger things had happened. Plus, considering your isolation in high school and middle school, you never really had the chance to explore friendship much less romance. You were sure that Samuel was in a similar position; you could tell by the way his fingers would linger on your skin when ever he pushed you gently into wherever he wanted you to go, by the ways he would look at you as if you were the air he breathed, by way he acted like you were his last chance at anything and everything. 

That was a kind of attention you never had before, and had to admit that it was nice. The connection you had each other felt like a heavy blanket after an exhausting day. At least to you it did. But you knew that you really shouldn’t give in. You were going to leave soon, in like three weeks no less, and that gave you plenty of reasons to not give in to the warm feeling spreading through your chest whenever he gave you a smile. It was hard to ignore, though. 

“ That sounds like a lovely idea. Sounds like we’ll have a busy day ahead of us.”

From there your conversation fell into a comfortable silence. You focused mainly on your growing stack of drawings, the soft skrtching of both of your chosen utensils filling the space with noise. You drew corners of your home as best you could, some of your friends from college, jack-o'-lanterns, really whatever that floated into your mind at the moment. When you finally took a moment to pause from your “work”, you noticed that it was really quiet. Looking up, you could see that Samuel at some point had dozed off.

His arms rested against the table, his sleeves stained by the now dried ink of his poem, the words being a smudged mess of meter and rhyme. His braided locs fell over his face and back which softly rose and fell with every breath he took in. Your lips parted in slight surprise. Without really thinking about it, you leaned over the table to further see his resting visage. You drank in the way his long, silver lashes brushed up against his cheekbones. You blinked for a couple of moments, unsure of what to do. Honestly, you didn’t want to wake him up from his slumber, but you also didn’t want to keep staring at him. It was so unfair. He was too pretty to be real.

So, you quickly scribbled a note that you would be out exploring the rest of the complex and left it on the table before you scurried out of the drawing room as silently as you could. The creaking floors made it hard to do, but other than Samuel’s face scrunching up at a particularly loud squeak, you got out of there without disturbing him. From there you decided to walk through a building you hadn’t been to yet. 

It was cold there. Not just in the temperature, but in the general feel of the realm too. You looked on to the vast expanse of nothingness that stretched beyond the railings of the hallway, at the gray ground, at the stars that freckled the eternal night. There was no warmth, no love, no life here other than Samuel. You briefly recalled what he said to you when you had first met. How he was a part of this place now.

Did that mean he couldn’t leave?

You shrugged off the thought. He said it himself; he chose to be here. You probably shouldn’t pry into the matter. If you did, you weren’t certain that you could feel guiltless about leaving him behind here.

Today, you wanted to go to the building that sat just behind the other ones. It wasn’t by much, but you actively had to go slightly out of the way of the ones that surrounded the courtyard to get there. It had a slightly more gloomy air to it, but that only grew your interest further. 

There were fewer silver lamps glowing on its pathway than everywhere else, something that you thought pretty odd. Even more strange was the dust that covered the floorboards leading up to its darkened entrance. Dust was present everywhere here, it was just a fact, but none of the halls had been this neglected. Maybe Samuel just didn’t have any real reason to come here. 

You walked up to the double doors that led into the rest of the buildings, a bit strange considering that most of the buildings didn’t have anything other than the rooms that were purely indoors. Just another thing to make this one stand out. A trail of your footprints against the dust led up to where you were standing as you gave a couple hard yanks to the entrance before they finally gave way. Inside was almost completely pitch black save for a small window at the end of the hall letting in some shimmering light.

It was pretty eerie, but there was nothing to suggest that there was anything that would actively hurt you here, plus you had already come this far. You entered the dark building, peering at the closed doors with interest. You gripped onto the handle of the nearest one, attempting to push it open, but you didn’t have much luck. Locked, great. You huffed in slight frustration and moved on to try and get into any of the other rooms, but it was the same thing: A bunch of doors that wouldn’t open and your burning curiosity. You made your way down the hall attempting again and again until you finally reached the end of the hall. You were so close to the window that your shadow loomed across the floorboards in a warped manner. Part of you wondered if the light from the stars was really bright enough to have that kind of effect, the others just ignored it for the sake of having fewer unanswered questions. 

At that point, you had kind of given up on your little adventure, but you pushed on to the very last door without much fanfare. When you twisted the knob and pushed, this time instead of being met with nothing, when it clicked open. Your eyes lit up in success, and you couldn’t help the little triumphant grin that crossed onto your face as you found somewhere to finally explore.

The room you went into was probably the dirtiest you’d seen yet, though the locked ones were probably in a worse state. There wasn’t that much furniture there to begin with, but what did occupy the space wasn't in good shape. A chair that had likely once been highly ornate and pristine had been flipped over, part of the upholstery ripped out, and one of the arms as well as a leg had been smashed so harshly into the ground that the floorboards had cracked slightly, and the carved wood splintered all over the floor. 

There was a vanity pushed up against the wall, small gashes on the table top, the mirror shattered with glass shards littering the area around it. In the reflective surface, you could see where it had been hit, the impact leaving a spider web of cracks.

The thing that caught your eye the most was the wardrobe, a milky sort of off white, rickety and aged, with its doors thrown open. Its contents spilled out onto the floor in a haphazard manner. 

It was trash. Like actual garbage. There were candy bar wrappers, empty soda cans and chip bags stacked on each other and crumpled in a careless fashion. You stooped down and gently picked up one of the bags, the plastic crinkling along the lines of your hands, and swallowed down the uneasiness as you realized that you recognized the brand. You remembered the label too. 

Taking a glance at all the other pieces of waste around the room only confirmed that these were all from your world, all varying from different years based on the graphic designs, except that they were all in the silver and gray shades that coated the realm. Had Samuel saved all of these? If so, how had he been getting them? He said himself that he didn’t leave anymore, and his lack of knowledge about current events and culture didn’t suggest otherwise. You set down the chip bag gently, choosing instead to inspect the vanity and its drawers. 

You expected to find more garbage in there, but surprisingly instead you found various old beauty products. A couple of powders, some eyeshadow, pots of eyeliners, rogue, and lipstick. None of them were pigmented, but if you squinted you could pretend that you saw some shades of color. A bit of scarlet red here, some bright coral there, all dull and shining against the pads of your fingers. You held them up close to your eyes to further inspect how they glimmered. 

“ What are you doing?”

You turned around quickly, eyes wide and heart beating wildly. You put your hand to your chest, letting out a relieved sigh at the sight of Samuel standing in the doorway with a hard to read expression.

“ You scared me,” you said, lungs heaving just a bit. He walked into the room, eyes cold as he took in the piles of trash. He chose to go directly up to you, gently taking the pot of blush out of your hands and setting it on the shattered vanity.

“ Don’t touch that. Who knows how long it’s been there,” he softly muttered. You held your breath. He stood so closely that you could feel his words ghosting on the shell of your ear, sliding down the crook of your neck, warm and melancholic. 

“ I was just exploring. This was the only door I could open,” you explained. You shifted slightly on the balls of your feet. The sullenness of his face was enough to tell you that you probably shouldn’t have been in here. It was kind of obvious that that might’ve been the case given the state of the whole building, but you didn’t expect the hurt present on his face. “ What is all of this?” You asked, gesturing to the pile of discarded wrappings. Samuel grimaced slightly. A sore subject it seemed.

“ You don’t, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you rushed out, but he only sighed and wiped his hand nervously on his face.

“No, no it’s alright. I can, I can tell you. Could we, perhaps, go somewhere else?”

His voice cracked slightly, like he was being burned alive with tears. You nodded without thinking, your hands still smeared with makeup, and led him by the wrist out of the dark building. 

His vision was downcast, but he kept up with your pace as the two of you padded towards the courtyard. You stepped down onto the grass before sitting down next to each other, his tall frame resting against the side of yours. Being there with him like that felt like being a part of a puzzle that had just been completed; It was just right.

“ You okay?” you asked. Samuel was blankly staring at the surface of the pond. The gentle wind rustled through the bushes and small trees. He shielded you from the chill.

“ I suppose,” he shrugged. “ That place is just… It holds a lot of awful memories for me.” 

You thought back to the wrecked appearance, how abandoned the building felt. It was like an old tomb, forbidden and desolate. Still its structure loomed on not too far from your little haven, threatening the peace silently. 

“ Objects come here from your world, you know. Things people have lost, things people have tossed aside. Sometimes when the moon is full, I’ll find them by the gate. And when I do, they’re always so colorful. And I know, they’re things that have been discarded. They’re dirty, but I have no color like that. So I keep them, I look at them until they become like me, and when they lose all their vibrancy, I put them in that building.” His voice rumbled softly, coursing through your skin, twisting your stomach into knots. He took a shaky gasp.

“ I- forgive me, I just can’t help it. Whenever I go there…”

“ It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it. I get it. I’m sorry for making you go there. I mean, all you have to say is you don’t want to be there. If it makes you feel bad, then I understand. That’s all I need to know. If it hurts you, that’s reason enough,” you offered in a quiet whisper. You could feel him nod against you, the edge of his fingers finding your palm. You let your hand slip into his, and you could feel him let it lay in his grasp before he tightened it like you were his last lifeline. 

As you sat there hesitantly enjoying his warmth, you wondered if the way the edges of your skin appeared in a shimmering gray was a trick of the dim lighting in a shattered mirror. 

Somehow, you had fallen into the pond in the courtyard. It was probably a symptom of you not properly gathering your balance before walking,  Samuel having just called you to eat moments before. It mirrored your arrival, save for actually crashing into the water instead of another world. 

You groaned as you wiped off the droplets clouding up your vision. Man, your clothes were soaked now. It wasn’t like you had anything else better to do, but you were lazy, so it was more annoying than anything. The chill of the water combined with the wind made you shudder as you climbed out of the pond, its surface sloshing around you noisily. 

“ [Name]?” Samuel called out from the kitchen. You could hear the clanking of plates. Ever since yesterday and your admittedly intimate conversation, he had been calling you by your name more freely. You had to guess it was part of the 1800’s manners that still lingered within him.

“ I’ll be there in a second!” You yelled back, stumbling as you did so. He must’ve heard the struggling in your voice because as soon as you spoke he was poking his head out from the doorway with a concerned expression. He took in your drowned rat appearance, his eyes growing wide.

“ [Name]! “ he cried out. He rushed over to your side, grabbing your arm and quickly pulling you out onto dry land. This was the least gentle he had been since you got here, panic clear in his demeanor. He practically dragged you over to the wooden halls, forcing you to sit down as he began to frantically look you over.

“ Are you hurt anywhere? Here?” he asked as he grabbed onto your leg, rolling up the leg of your pants to check your skin for any sign of bruising. You practically had to kick your way out of his tightened hold.

“ Hey! Hey! I’m fine! I just slipped! “ you protested, laughing a little weakly too. You placed your hands on his shoulders to try and calm him down a bit. Samuel frowned deeply, and you hesitated. Was he still feeling sensitive from yesterday? Probably. You let your touch linger. Your pinky played with one of his locs idly. You smiled at him as best you could, but you had to admit that you were freezing at that point. The cold air of the realm cut into your bones. You shivered, and the reaction did nothing to calm him down.

“ You’ll get sick,” he mumbled, watching the way the water dripped from your clothes onto his dark skin. 

“ I should be fine If I get dressed. Here, let me get up, I’ll go to my room.”

“ No, mine has a fireplace, You’ll be warmer in there,” he stood up, putting his arms under your armpits and hoisting you onto your feet. You cried out as you grabbed onto the front of his shirt in shock. He dragged you towards his room, threw the door open and had you sit down on one of the chairs. You cringed as you could feel the upholstery grow soggy underneath you.

Samuel was rifling through his wardrobe, pulling out sleep clothes and a few fluffy towels. He wordlessly crossed the expanse of his room towards you, and began to wrap the fabric around you, rubbing the sides of your arms. 

“ Here,” he said as he handed you a silken shirt and a pair of pants. You noticed how they were much larger than your own frame, much more befitting the man before you. 

“ Thanks,” you replied weakly. You patiently waited for him to leave the room, but he stood still, blankly staring at your hunched over self. You quirked a brow at him, gesturing for the door. Instead of leaving, Samuel turned his back to you and began to fuss with the fireplace and the basket of wood  sitting on the floor.

“ I won’t… I won’t look. Please, just tidy yourself,” he spoke in a wavering voice. You could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed. You were uneasy, but there was no reason really not to. So, you quickly shimmied out of your sopping outfit and changed into the clean one provided, all the while practically glaring at him to ensure that he was in fact keeping true to his word. You didn’t let him know that you had finished, choosing instead to simply watch him. Soon the silence was filled with the crackling of a fire. He sighed in relief when he stood up and realized that you had done as he asked.

He pulled off some of the pillows from his bed, the duvet, and grabbed some fluffy blankets from his wardrobe. The soft materials were placed down on the floorboards in front of the flames, arranged into a plush little area that looked insanely comfortable. 

“ Here, sit down. I’ll bring you some tea,” Samuel said as he placed his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you down. 

“ Hey,” you spoke. He stopped in his tracks. You gestured for him to come back to your side, patting the ground next to you. He looked reluctant, fingers twitching and ready to head back to the kitchen. “ You don’t seem okay. Talk to me,” you said as earnestly as you could. You wanted to help him. There was a sort of pain on his face that you couldn’t stand. His fragility was even more pronounced than your own sorry state.

“ Nonsense, you’ll become ill. Some tea will properly warm you up,” he refuted, averting his gaze.

“ You’ve already set up the fire. Plus I promise if I start feeling bad, I’ll let you know. Okay? Just relax with me, please?” You could see the way he bit his lip, the way he still reached from the doorknob. You continued to look at him, pleading silently. You wanted to make him feel better. You didn’t know how since he was being rather mysterious in why he seemed so upset, but you could try. He huffed loudly, the sound escaping through his nose, and it was then you knew you had won.

So the two of you sat in front of the fire, watching the silver inferno dance, spreading light through over the expanse of your form. Samuel had wrapped a blanket over your shoulders, his way of feeling better about the whole situation. He was rigid as a board, stiff and posture straight. You, on the other hand, settled down to lay on your side, tired of sitting criss crossed. When your face pressed against the plush duvet he had put down, you could feel the tips of his fingers lightly trailing on the nape of your neck. You shuddered slightly, for his touch was cold.

“ What’s got you so freaked out?” you mumbled sleepily. He hummed in response.

“ Nothing really. I’m just concerned for your well-being.”

“ Well, I’ll be fine. You’ve done plenty for me already,” you said lazily, blinking slowly. You wanted to say more, you really did, but you were so tired. The fire was so warm, the pile of pillows so comforting that you could barely fight against the lull of sleep. You found yourself falling asleep quickly.

“ I know… It’s just, you’re so fragile,” he sighed, resting his hand on the crown of your head, cradling it even. Still, you could only laugh in drowsy amusement. He looked at you as if you were crazy, but you couldn’t help the smile playing on your lips.

“ If anything, you’re much more fragile than me, old man,” you said with a yawn before slipping away into complete slumber.

Samuel was much calmer the next few days when he realized that you weren’t on death’s door, but he had been pretty insistent that you stay in his room and not go wandering around the complex as you usually would. You were rightfully annoyed by this, but he was, to no surprise, incredibly stubborn when it came to such matters. The two of you had your first dispute since you had been there over it even, and you had eventually given in once the look of hurt on his face grew too great to ignore. 

He brought you books from the library and meals fresh from the kitchen. You had suggested that you eat in the courtyard like usual, but he had shot that down quickly. Something about it being too cold out there. Instead, he had dragged another table into his bedroom so that you could spend time in there. He hardly left your side for those three days, and when you asked about going back to your own room, he had refused on the grounds that there was no fireplace there. Deep down, you knew that you were probably indulging him too much, so you said that after today, the third day you had been holed up in there, you would go back to wandering around as you pleased.

“ Fine, as you wish,” he gritted out, obviously not happy about it, before turning heel and stalking out to do who knows what. You were left there alone for the first time in what felt like forever, and you sighed with relief. Sliding off his bed, you ban to wander around his space to kill time. You appreciated what he was trying to do, you really did, but you were getting tired of being cooped up here. Plus the utter boredom you were starting to feel was getting on your nerves. You figured that Samuel would be less paranoid about your health once he saw that you were perfectly fine, uninjured, and unriddled with all kinds of ailments. You had tried to give him a bit of grace, but you were running out of patience to keep relenting. 

You were tidying things up a little, just to keep yourself busy. You folded up blankets, pushed in chairs, stacked up some of the books you had gone through. Part of you hoped that it would serve as a peace offering to your friend, making his worries fade if only by a small amount. Eventually you waltzed over to his vanity, arranging the various knickknacks on top of it so they weren’t just strewn about. There were bottles of perfume and powders, some not too unsimilar to the ones you found in the dark, dusty building. You did so mindlessly, until you really focused on the object you had touched. The smooth texture was familiar to you almost immediately, and your eyes widened as you looked down at the music box, the one you had found by the pond. 

You blinked at its appearance, once pastel and gold, colored into a silver, platinum and shimmering version of itself. You dropped it in surprise, the notes within it making a loud clang. Your hands which had held it were in the same color scheme as the entire room.

You gasped nervously as you turned them over, your vibrant skin fading into a much duller color. 

“What?” you whispered shakily. Your mind instantly went to the room full of garbage, the ones from your own world. They were gray, just like the music box, just like the world, just like Samuel, and now just like your fingers. You thought of the trash and why he had chosen to keep it. It would be so easy to chuck them out the moon gate, but instead they were collected there in that building. You swallowed thickly, remembering something that he first said to you.

“ I’m not even sure I can tell you what I was doing before I became part of this place.” 

Samuel said it himself, he used to be like you. Now, though, he couldn’t leave, and everything that ended up in the same coloring got trapped here as well. Were you… were you becoming a part of this world too? 

That night you had returned to your room, and Samuel had reluctantly kept to his word. You were itching to ask him about what was happening to you, but you wanted to keep silent for now and see if anything was off about his demeanor. Yes, he had explained that eventually things lost their color to the gray, but he hadn’t elaborated on how long it took. But it had been around twelve days now, and the music box you had entered with had already turned completely.

When you had gotten dressed this morning, slipping on your socks and shoes, you noticed that your feet had lost their original shade. You were extremely unnerved by this, and when you looked in your vanity mirror, it appeared that your cheeks had been dusted with a silver flush. 

It occurred to you that the fire that he had constantly going while you were in his room had likely masked the fact that you had suddenly started to change in shade, you chalking it up to the lighting. Maybe that was why he hadn’t said anything. 

Regardless, you went to check on the moon gate. You were starting to become anxious to go home. It had been over a week since you had initially wandered out, and you couldn’t help but think of the panic your disappearance must’ve made with not only your family but your friends. How would they feel knowing that you went missing on the way to hang out with them? You sighed, melancholy and longing filling your lungs as you looked out at the only thing that could grant you your exit. 

The gate itself had faded from a half full moon to a waxing crescent. The sliver of light shining upon its surface would likely disappear into complete darkness in a matter of a few days. You were nervous, to say the least. If whatever was happening to you completed before the gate fully opened again, you were never going to go home again. 

“ Samuel, how long did it take for you to, you know, lose all your color?” You hated how blunt you sounded, but you had to know. You were sitting in the library today, cozied up in two plush chairs across from each other. You had been trying to focus on a book you had picked up, but your grayed out hands made it hard to concentrate. He was humming, a small smile on his face, while writing his poetry. 

Your question broke him out of his happy state, him quickly snapping into a worried expression. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled up your sleeve to reveal your problem, fading up your forearm. Over the past three days, you had tried to act as normal as you could, shoving down your concerns in favor of returning to the casual atmosphere you had built before you had wandered into the building with all the trash, but it was harder than you thought it would be. 

“ I’ve been, uh, experiencing this for the past few days, and well, I’m nervous that it’ll spread more before it's my time to leave,” you said awkwardly. Samuel stood up from his chair wordlessly and grabbed onto your wrist, his fingers rubbing over your skin in a soothing and curious manner. 

“ You’re becoming like me,” he said plainly. 

“ Yeah, uh I guess I am. I’ve been meaning to ask you about it, but yeah. Is, uh, is there anything I can do to slow it down? Or make sure that it won’t take over completely before the full moon?”  He winced at your mention of leaving, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“ There’s nothing that can prevent this place from claiming you. You must leave before then, but you should be fine by the time the gate reopens,” he explained dully. “ Would it, would it really be so terrible if you were to stay here with me, though?” You looked up at him, your face completely splattered with shock. You choked out a surprised laugh, like he was making a cruel joke.

“ What? You know I can’t do that Samuel. I have a life that I have to get back to,” You rejected the idea immediately, gently trying to tug your arms out of his grasp. He bit his lip as his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

“ I understand. However, you, I believe that if you would just stay,  we could have a life here. One that is just as wonderful as your life on Earth. I know that I’m asking you to give a lot here, but I just, [Name] I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m alone again,” he gasped out his words, squeezing down on your limbs without realizing. A few tears, bright like dying stars, began to slip down his cheeks, falling down and splashing your own frantic hands. Your own heart felt as if it were being slammed against your ribcage, guilt and sorrow bubbling up. 

In the brief period that you had come to know him, you had started to become fond of Samuel. It was a fast forming bond, driven by both of your respective degrees of isolation, and you couldn’t deny the attraction that you felt every time he shyly smiled your way. But this wasn’t some fast forming crush. This was a man asking you to throw your everything away for him, for eternal youth, for eternal nothingness. This wasn’t him asking you to become a trusted friend or even a lover, he was asking you to be his whole world. You wondered if he was only offering to become yours because that was the only thing he had to give. 

“ I’m really sorry, but I have to go home,” you said as resolutely as you could, but you couldn’t help the small cracks in your voice creeping in. Your refusal devastated the man, and he let out a few sobs and sank to his knees, placed his head in your lap, and softly cried into you for what felt like hours. All the while he quietly mumbled his pleas for you to reconsider, for you to stay, to witness all he could promise you.

When you didn’t do anything other than caress his head in an effort to calm him, he shambled up to his feet, wiped off his tears with his sleeves, weakly said goodbye, and turned to leave the room. You sat there for a while, staring at the emptiness that flowed in after him, and you thought of how everyday must’ve been like this for him. There was nothing but regret and anxiety of whether or not the right decision had been made everyday for decades upon decades. You felt bad, you truly did, because it was a miserable existence frankly, and part of you worried that if you did stay, you would eventually succumb to that crippling loneliness even with Samuel with you. That you would lose your color, and you would become like the garbage holed up in that room.

The next day, when you cautiously ambled out of your bedroom, you were immediately hit with the scent of flowers. The entire hall was filled with vases and pots containing all kinds of floral arrangements and species. All shimmering and gray, but beautiful nonetheless. 

“ You could have this everyday if you wanted,” his voice startled you, and you jumped when you realized that he was practically leaning over you. You had been too distracted by the plants to notice him emerging from his room, and you assumed that he had been listening for when you would emerge from your own. 

“ Samuel… Please,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “ I understand your feelings, but you gotta also get that I need to go home. I made that clear yesterday,” you pleaded with him as you brushed by his figure, stalking off to make a meal for yourself. He followed suit, hardly a step behind you.

You went through the curtain and began to pull out various pans and utensils, trying to figure out exactly what it was you wanted to make in the first place when he came in and took a spatula that was in your hand. You protested weakly, trying to grab it back, but he pushed you to sit at the table as you normally would. You crossed your arms, quirking a brow at him in clear annoyance.

“ Uh, what do you think you’re doing?”

“ I’m making you breakfast. I know you wanted to split the meal making duties, but I can take over from now on,” he explained, moving to pull out ingredients from the fridge. “ You won’t ever have to lift a finger again. If you stay, that is.”

You ate breakfast with him, because what else was there to do, with a very strange atmosphere. The man kept asking if the food was good, if you were comfortable, asking if you wanted to go to his room where he knows you would be comfortable if you would just let him take you there. His confession, as vague as it was, and your rejection had dialed up his clinginess to the max.

“ I’m going to the drawing room,” you said after dumping a clean plate on a drying rack. Samuel was hovering over you, leaving you slightly pinned to the counter you were working on. You slid past him as best you could, but an arm shot out to prevent you from going any further.

“ I think you should stay here, in the courtyard with me.”

“ I’ll be fine by myself. I need a bit of space right now,” you shrugged him off, trying to ignore the way his face lit up in momentary anger, something that you hadn’t really seen before on his sweet appearance. He ignored your request to be left alone, by the way. He followed you to the drawing room, remarking about how lovely the complex was, how it could be more beautiful if the two of you just cleaned all of the empty rooms. How if you stayed that would be a real possibility. 

You sat there silently, trying to ignore him as best as you could. You were doodling again, and this time instead of sitting himself opposite of you, Samuel decided to cozy up beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching with mild interest as you sketched. His breath was warm on your skin, but you stayed quiet. You hated how flustered he made you feel even now when you were clearly frustrated by his clinginess. Part of it was because you truly couldn’t be fully mad at him. He was lonely, desperate for the first bit of human contact in who knows how long to stay with him, and you couldn’t really fault him for being so devastated by your exit from his life. 

If there was a way where he could come back with you, you were sure that you would have thrown caution to the wind and explored your growing crush on the handsome man. You wished things had been different; that he was just a boy you had known and quickly grown close to on campus or somewhere around your town. 

“ You’re quite good at that,” he said. You called bullshit; Your art was a mess of ink splotches and squiggly lines that you cobbled together to resemble the flowers and the hallways that surrounded you. You hardly put any effort into it, and anyone would be a fool to say it was anything more than a way to pass the time.

“ I can do portraits, you know. If you would sit down, I could draw up the two of us. There are some oil paints around here somewhere, so I could paint it as well,” he offered, his arms slowly moving to wrap you in an embrace. You shrugged him off with a bit of reluctance.  His touch was comforting, but you had to create a fine line between the two of you. Leaving would be harder otherwise. 

“ I’m alright,” you responded curtly. You could feel his lips against your skin form into a frown, and he brought up a hand to turn you head. You startled a bit, but his eyes bore into yours with a frightening amount of intensity. A cold fear settled into your stomach.

“ Please,” was all he said, and all you could do was meekly nod.

Samuel had you sit down in a room with a large amount of windows to paint your portrait. He had given you an outfit that was far more ornate than anything you had worn in the previous week and a half and sat you down on a plush, comfortable chair. He had surrounded you with flowers, petals sitting at your feet and scattered across your lap. Satin, ribbons hung from your wrists, neck, and ankles. He had tied them after you had been dressed, a small, fond smile settling on the lines of his face as he held onto your limbs gently. 

“ You look absolutely lovely,” he said, content as he moved in front of the canvas. 

“ Uh thanks I guess.”

“ Have you ever had your portrait taken?” he asked, holding up a brush between poised fingers. 

“ Not really. I mean I’ve had my picture taken at school,” you shrugged. You wished he would stop staring at you, dissecting you with his fluttering eyelashes. Your skin had continued to gray at an alarming rate, and you could not ignore the panic that had gripped you. You were trying to trust what he had said about you not turning completely before the full moon came, but it was hard to just brush off the sudden way your appearance was changing. 

You had checked the moon gate the night before, passing by it under the pretense of going to the library. You weren’t sure why, but you no longer felt comfortable simply telling Samuel about your true intentions anymore. Before he had asked you to stay the first time, you would simply inform him of where you would be. Sure, he would likely show up to stick by your side before long, but he hadn’t actively stopped you from going anywhere until then. But yesterday with his insistence that you stay with him in the courtyard and his tailing you all through the complex was the beginning of a new pattern that you were certain that you didn’t like.

When you had first woken up this morning, he was sitting outside of your door in the hall. It wasn’t unusual before, but now it felt like a calculated step he took to make sure that every second of your day was spent with him. It was then that he had given you a silken shirt and pair of pants and pulled you into a room with windows that went all the way to the ceiling.

But the moon gate, it had passed from the new moon into the sliver of a crescent. It wouldn’t be long before you could go home. You had to keep reassuring yourself of that. Maybe twelve days or so more? Six until the half moon appeared again for sure. You sighed, trying to focus on anything other than his gaze.

“ Picture? Ah, I recall that being a new thing before I came here. Is it more common in your time?” he asked. 

“ Yeah, uh I’d say they are. Like super common actually. I wish I had brought my phone with me. I think you would have, uh, I think you would’ve enjoyed seeing all the stuff on there,” you laughed weakly. He hummed in response. The room was filled with the sound of paint being rubbed onto canvas. His eyes flitted between the you he was creating and your own fidgeting figure. You wondered if he was having trouble with you not being completely still. After a few moments of him being focused on his task, you let your mind wander. It must’ve gone a bit too far, though, because soon you found yourself voicing a question that you had been holding since a few days in.

“ Hey, if we hadn’t met here, like if we met back on Earth and all, would you have liked me?” Samuel froze, his small smile halting into one of shock. He tore away from his art and fully faced you, truly taking in your petulant expression and pinched brows.

“ Of course,” he said without hesitation, and you sighed.

“ But like, why? I mean, can you really say that if you had met me without being here by yourself for so long, you would be like this with me?” you asked. He stared blankly. He hadn’t tried to think about it. It was plain to see from his silent floundering. Part of you knew that he didn’t really want to answer your question, for anything he said would probably be untrue to some extent. Deep down he knew the way he clung to you wasn’t natural. Deep down he knew that if you hadn’t met under such circumstances, he probably wouldn’t feel as desperate or deeply about you. If he thought otherwise, he would be lying. He had to because to some extent you felt the same way. 

“ Does it matter?”

“ What do you mean?”

“ I don’t think it really matters. We didn’t meet on Earth because we weren’t supposed to. You came to me now, here. There’s a reason for that, you know. I haven’t felt much of anything lately, yet you, you came here. You’re with me now. I know you don’t wish to stay, but you have to agree that this is fate. That’s all I need to be certain of my affections for you,” Samuel looked at you with such fondness, and you couldn’t help but ache. You wanted to believe him so badly that it hurt, that this was meant to be, that you were meant to stay. He walked over to you, his hands reaching up to cradle your face like you were made out of porcelain, his finger pushing down on your lower lip. 

He leaned in for a kiss no doubt, but you turned quickly, your figure curling up on itself in discomfort. He kissed your jaw gently, trying to make his way towards your mouth, but you pushed gently on his chest while quietly saying “no”.  He reared back before homing in close once again, chasing after your affection. Still, you screwed your eyes shut and stood from your seat, breaking away from his touch.

“ [Name] please-”

“ Samuel, You have to stop. This is going nowhere. I care about you, really, and I, I also like you in that way, but it’s just not going to happen. I have to go home, and that’s it,” it hurt to say those words. You wanted fate, you wanted a person that you were destined to be with, but it couldn’t be like this. You had tried so hard to leave your shell, to go out and enjoy life while making friends and experiencing everything to falling in love to the joyful chaos of university. You needed that too, and you couldn’t get it if you stayed here. 

“ No, no, you’re not understanding me. I need you here, please. I can’t be alone again!” He cried, chasing after you as you began to exit the room. As you stalked off, fighting tears along the way, you began to undo the ribbons that he had tied to your wrists, discarding them in the ground in your wake. He scrambled to pick them up, calling your name.

“ [Name] [Name] [Name] “

You shoved your hands over your ears in a desperate attempt to drown out his increasingly panicked voice. You were practically running down the hallways, racing to reach your room. Your feet thudded against the creaking floorboards, his even louder ones following suit.

“ I’m sorry!” You shouted, your throat hoarse with fear and sadness. You slid in front of your doorway, quickly heading inside before shutting and locking it behind you. You could hear Samuel’s body slam into it, his fists pounding against it.

“ [Name]! Please let me in! I didn’t wish to frighten you! Just let me make it up to you! Please I swear I wasn’t attempting to force you. I just, I simply wanted you to understand my feelings,” he begged, his breathing rapid. 

“ Go away,” you said loudly, backing away slightly. He kept on hitting the door, the handle jiggling with his attempts to get in. 

“ [Name] open the door please. Please, I can make you understand.”

“ Go away!” you repeated, a bit more loudly this time. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He didn’t stop though. In fact his actions only became more frantic, and you could see the way the door began to shake with every slam he made against it, the wood shaking against his hinges.

You had begun crying, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sank to the floor, curling into yourself as you sobbed out. He must’ve heard you crying because he was practically trying to break his way into your room.

“ [Name]! Let me in! Please! Just give me a chance! I love you! PLEASE!,” he frantically called as the banging continued. 

SLAM

“ Let me in!”

SLAM

“[NAME]! PLEASE!” He was sobbing too.

SLAM

“ I LOVE YOU! LET ME IN!”

“ GO AWAY!” you screamed, louder than you think you had ever screamed in your entire life. Your body shook as you cried into your knees, and you felt like you were going to throw up, but the terror outside your room had stopped suddenly. 

The quiet was unnerving, and it lasted for a while. You sniffled as the minutes ticked by, trembling as you looked at his shadow coming in from under your door. He was just sitting there, waiting for you to say something, to come out, to fall into his arms and allow yourself to be swept up by the dream-like romance that you knew we wanted to sweep you up in. But you stayed still out of pure fear of what he would do to you once you left the room. You could hear his slightly ragged breaths, waiting to have you in his hold once more.

“ If you wish to stay in there,” he said after a long period of no words passing between you,” It’s okay. I’ll be here for you, and you’ll understand how I feel then.” His words were ominous, and they sent shivers down your spine. 

You couldn’t really believe that this was the sweet and gentle man you had come to know over the past couple two weeks, but then again that was hardly enough time to truly know someone. You felt stupid, being swept up in the way he treated you, in how beautiful this place was and how sweetly he spoke your name. You wanted to make it work. You wanted to believe that this was just a weird dream that was going on for too long. Oddly, part of you still felt guilty over not being able to give yourself to someone who was so lonely, someone who yearned that deeply for connection. You could be that missing piece to make his life whole, but you’d be sacrificing yours in the process. You couldn’t, it was as plain as that, and yet you still wanted to make him happy.

The Samuel that you had started to like, the one who looked at you like you were everything, was not truly real though. The real him was partly that, but he was also desperate and wild to a degree that frightened you greatly. You couldn’t live like that, not after how he reacted. So even if there were still some feelings for him there, there was no way you could let them get in the way of you going home.

He had sat right up against your door for the entire night, and you had fearfully allowed yourself to slip into a fitful sleep pressed up against the wall in your bed. In the morning, you awoke to him knocking.

“ I told you, you would never have to lift a finger again. I made you breakfast. If you open the door it’s here for you,” he chuckled slightly. You didn’t fail to notice the unstableness in his voice as you clutched your blanket closer to yourself. 

“I’ll, I’ll go to my room, just make sure that you eat something. I don’t want you to starve,” he sighed after you didn’t answer. You could hear the clanging of silverware and plates being set down before the tell tale creaks of the floor board gave way to his location. Indeed, he had stepped away, but that didn’t mean you could afford to be flippant about the matter. You approached the exit to your room slowly, unlocking it with a soft click before you opened it in a hurry and snatched up the meal. You locked it back in place almost immediately after, staying alert in case Samuel decided to come running for you. To your relief, he stayed put.

You swallowed down the food as best as you could, but you couldn’t finish most of it. You decided that you would leave the plate on your vanity for later as the more you could avoid having to leave your room, the better. You caught a glance at your appearance in the mirror, and you were alarmed to see that the silver had spread up pretty much all the way to your biceps. It was taking over you quickly. You shakily sighed as you tried to stave off the rest of the time by reading some books that you had left in there from the previous few days. 

Samuel tried to coax you out with lunch a couple hours later, but since you had your plate, you stayed inside and ignored it.

“[Name], please… You’re not taking care of yourself. If you would let me in, I could help you,” he said, but again you stayed quiet. He was a bit more stable than the night prior, though, so instead of screaming at you to come out, he began to read off some poetry that he had been writing. You assumed that it was all from the period after your arrival, recalling how he would be jotting down imagery with a serene expression while you lazed about. You missed how it had been, even if it hadn’t been all too long ago. 

Eventually, his voice grew hoarse from speaking to no one for hours, and you heard him dejectedly bidding you goodnight, once again leaving you with silence.

The next day carried out much the same, and you found yourself growing increasingly paranoid. You didn’t want to stay in your room the entire time. Your books had been read and the gate needed to be checked on, but you were certain that if you stepped out of your safe haven, Samuel would be there ready to do who knows what.

That day, he had spent many hours telling you of how he envisioned a life with you to be, and you became increasingly aware of the notion that he might be planning to prevent you from leaving the realm all together. 

“ We shall sit here and discuss everything and nothing,” he laughed to himself.” Why, we’d be like those scholars in the library! Perhaps you and I could write books together. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” 

As much as his words disturbed you, it did give you an idea. After he retired to bed, you devised a slight plan to visit the library once more. Perhaps there was something there that could offer you an answer about what this place was and maybe even how to slow down its claim over you. So that night, you opened your window carefully and climbed out to land on the barren expanse of silver ground that surrounded the complex. 

The floorboards in the hall would give away your activity in no time, but if you sneaked in through the outside ground, then you could slip into the library undetected. There hadn’t really been any reason to leave the carefully maintained halls until now, but now you were offered a more covert way to traverse through the buildings. 

You quietly skirted on the edges of the property until you gently climbed up onto the wooden pathway. Hopefully you were far enough away from the bedrooms that the slight creaking wouldn’t be too much of a give away. It seemed that you were correct in this assessment, for you were able to rifle through books in the library undisturbed for the first time in what felt like a long while. You were a bit desperate in combing through the knowledge available, though you were careful to put everything back in its place lest Samuel figure out that you had managed to sneak in without him seeing. 

You pulled out journals about the phases of the moon, star maps, novels that looked as if they had been read by him on multiple occasions. You found nothing of use. Frustrated, tired, and scared beyond imagination, you gripped your head in your hands. You surveyed the place, eyes roaming over the shelves upon shelves of information until a slight glint caught your eye. It was something shining between two heavy books, the light from outside hitting it perfectly. You would’ve never really seen it if you hadn’t been scrutinizing the room so intensely, and you quickly made your way over to whatever was shimmering so brightly. It was really just a sliver of reflection, hardly noticeable, but when you inspected it further you found a key, metal and shiny despite a small amount of grime covering it. 

 You turned the object over in your palm curiously and quickly placed it within your pocket. Something told you that whatever answers you sought were somehow connected to this simple piece of metal.

With that you quickly scurried off to your room once more.

“ I know you’d be sacrificing a lot,” Samuel said to you on the third day of locking yourself in your room. The gate had opened up a considerable amount since he had exploded in anguish, and you could tell that he was trying even more desperately to get you to stay of your own volition.

“ You have friends and a family…But I could be both of those for you. You would be the same for me. We could be each other's everything, you know. If you would just give me a chance to prove how wonderful we’d be, I’d make it worth your time.” You could hear the gentle movement of pen over paper, of a broom sweeping down the hall, of his breaths. He would spend his whole time there, luring you with honeyed promises of a romantic and satisfied life, but his frightening behavior made you sure that your days here would be anything but that. If he had you, he would never let you go. This realm was much the same. 

With that terrifying fact in mind, you knew that you had to figure out where the key led into. Its neglected state told you it had to be a place that Samuel hadn’t bothered with for a long time, and there was really only one place that fit that desolate description. While he waxed on about how good he would be to you, how he would worship you if you truly wished, you  thought of that hallway filled with locked doors. Considering how long he had been here, there might be some things of some long gone era including the remnants of a stable Samuel.

Later that night, when you snuck out again, you stared out over the vast silver nothingness. If you weren’t so terrified that there wasn’t anything but the complex, you would have taken off running into it. Your window, which was very high up by the way, looked down on your shifty form.  

The old building loomed in all its dim glory like a beacon in a sea of darkness, and you approached with much caution. The key in your silver palm sat heavy with years of unknown history. The stars watched from above as you gripped onto the wooden railing that decorated the edges of the halls. The carved wooden leaves and flora pressed into your skin, leaving indents in their image. Like many times before, the floor creaked with each step you took. Here, you were less worried about Samuel hearing you as it was so removed from everything else. Here, you could breathe a little more. Your silk shirt didn’t feel as stifling, and you shook a little less. 

You yanked on the handles of the doors, shocked to find that they didn’t budge. Shit, he must’ve locked it at some point. You sighed, part out of anger and part out of fear, and stepped back. If you couldn’t get in the normal way, then some alternative methods were needed. 

So, that’s how you ended up crawling through the window at the back of the building. It was an awkward action, your stomach pressing uncomfortably onto the ledge. You hung there for a moment, trying to shimmy inside before you fell ungracefully onto the floor with a large thud. You froze there as a few moments passed by. Part of you was waiting for Samuel to come storming into the building, for him to unleash a torrent of tears and desperation upon you. Silence passed. There was no thundering pace, and no calling of your name from a man starved of stability. You placed a hand to your chest, gasping in relief and at your aching muscles. 

There wasn’t much time, not much that you were comfortable spending out here from the safety of your room, that is, to properly look through every room in here for a clue on your condition and how to leave. You glanced at the door not too far from you, slightly ajar from your last visit to this place. If that one held things that were more contemporary, then wouldn't it be safe to assume that the ones closest to the main entrance were the oldest?

You shakily stood on your feet while using the wall as your guide. You pulled out the key as you picked the nearest one to the front of the building You slotted in the key, and much to your relief, the door swung open with an ancient sounding creak. The smell of age immediately hit your nose, and your face wrinkled in disgust. This place had not been touched in a while. Unlike the one you had seen a week ago, the room looked as if it had been left as was. The furniture seemed to be in their proper places, and there weren’t random objects strewn about. The only things that could make it messy was the amount of dust coating over every surface and the odd few stacks of books on the floor.  

You quickly walked over to the vanity, rifling through the drawers. There was makeup. Hairpins, brushes, some old pots of congealed ink, but nothing of much note. You threw open the wardrobe to find some fraying clothes that looked nothing like the ones either you or Samuel wore. You gently pinched the sleeve of the faded shirt, the old cotton rolling limply between your fingers. How long ago had he slipped these on? Since he had gone around wandering the world as he wished? You couldn’t imagine the outfit you wore when you came here being sealed away like this.

You frowned deeply. The memories these pieces of old cloth must’ve held…It made you truly wonder what he had given up to be a part of this place. You dropped it and continued to look on for what else was in the wardrobe. There was a box holding a well worn pair of leather shoes, some gloves, and a crumpled up jacket that sat dejectedly in a pile. You rifled through them with haste, frantically looking through them. Within the pocket of the jacket, you felt the fragile texture of aged paper, and you quickly pulled it out.

Underneath the silver moonlight, you could see faded ink looping in their delicate chain, spelling out a sweet Dear Samuel.

I hope this finds you well…

It was hard to make out any of the words on the rest of the page. You furrowed your brows as you tried to piece together prose that had long since lost meaning. There were parts where the parchment had wavered under what you had assumed to be tears, places where it had been crumpled by how tightly it had been gripped, soft and limp from how many times it had been folded. It was well loved, and now, judging by its resting place, it had been forgotten. 

There was nothing to learn from it, much to your frustration. You sighed shakily as you carefully folded up the old letter and tucked it away again. You pressed your face to your palms and let out a low groan. There had to be something that could help you, you were sure of that, but whatever it was had been hidden away. Either that or it was just in a different room. 

So you went to the second door by the entrance. It was much like the one you had just been in before, except this one had a more noticeable air of clutter. There were books everywhere, strewn about in haphazard manner with pages falling out of bindings and ink splashed out across the floorboards. On the desk pressed against the wall was a worn journal, the paper in it bulging out from use.

It was by itself, illuminated by the light from the window, with little else sharing its space. You rushed over to it, before flipping over to a random page.

Today has been an eventful day. Father says that soon Mother, Charlotte, and I shall depart for the city soon. He says that there is work to be found there, and that my brother has found us occupation and housing. It must be quite nice to be familiar with the lively atmosphere. I hold little doubt that such a large number of individuals will suit my character in an unfavorable manner, yet I find that there is little I can do to protest such a sudden decision. Mother is elated for me to finally join brother and father, sister is excited to go to school in a more fashionable location, and my father is simply content to provide. By all means this is an opportunity that I am certain some would be green for, and yet I feel a sense of unease.

For if I leave this town, what will become of this place?

You visibly recoiled from the information. You knew that he had a life before this. It had been mentioned and hinted at many times before this moment, but to actually have it confirmed? It was unsettling. You nervously shut the journal, the leather and paper making a soft thud, and quickly left the room. From there you left the same way you came in, the rusty key and book tucked safely in your arms.

The next day , you sat on the floor of your room hunched over the little book. Samuel scratched at the door now; his fingernails swooping as he spoke weakly.

“ I understand, you know. I do, I really do, but I simply think you’re being unreasonable now. It’s been days since you’ve come out. I miss you [Name], and I know you miss me too,” he drawled. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and you could practically picture the way dark lines would hang heavily in his otherwise perfect visage. You hoped that his appearance had become akin to that of his words: sick and uncanny.

You pressed your fingers into your temple in an attempt to drown him out. Your brows were furrowed in concentration, trying desperately to focus and make out the looping cursive on the page. You sighed in frustration. You really should’ve paid more attention in classes.

As the move to the city approaches, I find myself increasingly conflicted. There is little reason as to why I should be so opposed, yet I am inextricably reluctant to go. I sit in this pavilion unknown to my family in contemplation, for I have become convinced that this solitude is more befitting of my character. I would have accommodation, food, entertainment, everything an individual would need to live a life of fulfillment and esteem. Additionally, I would achieve every son’s greatest dream: removing the burden of oneself from their parents.

I should consider taking this place as my permanent residence.

It felt wrong reading this. The only thing you could compare it to was watching back footage of a car crash before the collision actually happened. Your silence was a palpable response, and you could feel his unease oozing from into the small gap under your door. 

“ [Name], I hope you know that you still have a few days to change your mind. I’ll be here for you, throughout the whole process and everything. I know it can be frightening, but when you become like me, I’ll treat you so well that you won’t even know why you resisted me,” he laughed lowly, and you seized with fear. Your chest heaved slowly as you hung on the action of flipping a page. 

“ Please just… please just leave me alone,” you said tiredly. His weight shifted under the floorboards, the wood creaking, and he pressed his palms up against the wall outside. You could hear it, no, you could practically feel his eyes wildly searching for signs of you. His breathing was heavy, unhinged, and absolutely terrifying. You winced back from the entrance to your room. There was no telling what he would do to get in, and you had a sneaking suspicion that the door was only a decorative obstacle for him. There was no way he wasn’t desperate enough to not have tried breaking in, and that scared you so much. 

He was so sure of himself, and you did not miss the certainty in his words. When you become like him. When he would comfort you. There was no ‘If’ anymore, no attempt to conceal his certainty. Did he think that he could physically stop you from leaving? When the gate opened, he would probably do everything in his power to stop you from going. 

“ [Name]”

You ignored him in favor of digging further into his past life. He wasn’t satisfied, though. You could feel the way his shoulders heaved in your bones, how he bored his gaze onto silver wood, the way his tongue rolled with your name like a curse. 

He was quiet after that, and you watched as the shadows underneath your door shifted back. Your stomach churned in discomfort, the acid burning and warm as it crawled up your throat ever so slightly. There was no way that you could do this everyday; no way that you could sit there as he hovered around desperately for the rest of your life, or the rest of whatever it was you’d be leading if you did stay.

I have never been humiliated in such a manner as I have in this moment. I confessed my feelings of our departure to the city, how little it appealed to me and all, to my father. I’ve never seen him so cross, so cold towards me. I have always held suspicion that my family did not hold a level of affection towards me as they did to each other, but it seems that I have had to reach this unfortunate conclusion. 

He called me a drain on the fortune he had worked so hard to come across. I know that I write this in a calmer state of mind, but it took everything within me to not burst into tears right then and there. I’m in the pavilion again, and I believe that I should spend the night here. I’ve never done so before, despite all the time I do lay around in these halls. 

He’d never spent the night before? Your face twisted into confusion. That can’t… That didn’t make any sense. Did the gate function differently when he first arrived?

“[Name]...You can’t stay in there forever. If you would just speak to me, I could make this right. I promise,” Samuel mumbled out. You flipped to another page. Another day. Another tainted memory of his.

It’s been a week. I haven’t the heart to return. I suppose that my family has likely departed to the city without me being there. I wish them well, truly, and I hope they feel my support from this place. 

Perhaps I am a coward, for I cannot find the courage to go beyond here and truly apologize nor tell them that my well being is secure. I instead choose to sit around and lament. Truly my self hatred knows no bounds. Part of me imagines that my family shall scorn me for my behavior, the other thinks that they would be indifferent. They’ve never cared to know where I have gone off and disappeared before now, and I don’t believe that they’ll suddenly give a damn. 

The bitterness was palpable, and you winced as you read. The Samuel in the ink was far more antisocial than you would have ever assumed him to be; It was jarring with the way his honey dipped words tried to sway you from outside your safe spot. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine him with a cold and disdainful look when you came here. Had he wallowed in this awful self hatred for all this time? There was another series of soft taps on the door, ones that you vaguely recognized being that of the music box on your vanity. 

“ I promise that everyday will always be interesting. That you’ll never be bored, or suffer from loneliness. It’ll be the two of us, and I swear that I’ll make you happy. Please, won’t you please just let me see your face,” he paused, waiting for you to say something (as if there was any chance in hell that you would do that again). “ I just want to see you, see if you’ve become even more like this place and me. You can confide in me, you know.”

Had you grown more silver? The panic of the past few days had deterred you from really caring about your appearance, so the mirror in your room didn’t seem to hold much purpose. Not to mention, you were so fucking scared of what was happening to you. You could already see that the shimmering greyscale had already coated your calves and your fingers entirely, but there were large expanses of your skin that had been covered by clothing.

You slowly stood so as to not make too much noise, and carefully peered into the reflective surface that sat pressed up against the wall. You gingerly brought your hands up to your face as you stared with a mix of dismay and awe. The color had covered half of your features at this point, your eyes maintaining their color. In the meantime your hair had turned a mix of gray and silver from the ends up until just before your roots like a dye job that looked a few months overdue for a retouch. Your breath caught in your throat as you inhaled sharply. It had spread so quickly over these past couple of days…Why? Why had it done that? Was it going to completely take over you before the gate opened? No, because otherwise Samuel would’ve said something. He would’ve noted how this place took hold of him before he could go home, because he said he went home in that journal. Right?

You practically threw yourself to the floor, not caring anymore if he heard you. The Journal had to have some answers. You opened it to a random spot, eyes frantically roaming over the dates and times. The one to which you settled on seemed to be two weeks away from the last one you read. 

My clothes that I wore when I came here have faded completely into this wonderful silver color, and my skin seems to have begun doing the same. I am intrigued by this greatly, and I am interested in how it should progress. I suppose that it would be an interesting endeavor to see how it spans out fully, for I have not seen any deterioration within the objects that I have brought with me. I can only assume that I shall not be harmed by this process. 

I have been missing the company of Mother and Charlotte, and I have been reminiscing on the argument with father as well. I doubt that they stayed within town. The opportunity in the city greatly outweighs any effect my disappearance could have possibly made. I think that after I observe what happens to myself here, I shall leave and go find them. 

Perhaps my findings here could bring me some fortune… In any case, I must sincerely apologize to them. I suppose that this experiment of mine is just delaying the inevitable, but I’ll find them. I’ll make this right, just after this is all. 

I do love them. I hope that I may be forgiven. 

His fate was spelled out for you so plainly, and the irony was so palpable that it could’ve been in a movie. This didn’t feel real, like a story that was unfolding in real time. The shy but remorseful boy painted by words was nothing like the man only a few feet away.

But looking at the dates… This was all in the span of a month. It mirrored your situation very closely, except you were aware of the consequences of what would happen if you actually let the silver coloring consume you entirely. Some sick part of you felt a little guilty. Guilty that you had the chance to get out, guilty that if you did, you would leave him here. It didn’t really make much sense to you, but you thought of how he must’ve been before you came here: lamenting over his family he never had the chance to properly say goodbye to, wishing that he had done something different, wishing that he had someone there to stave off the crushing weight of nothingness that was this place. He had hoped and waited for a chance like you to appear, and this would probably be the last time he would get one. For a long time anyways. When you left, if you left, he’d be destroyed. That fact alone was awful, but it wasn’t your fault and you needed to go home. 

But… the more you read and the more you thought it over, why did it feel like he could’ve left at any time?

You let out a small laugh as it dawned on you. The journal didn’t go back too far, but it made sense, didn’t it? He didn’t spend the night here, he wasn’t forced to stay here until the next full moon. He chose to stay here, and he felt guilty for it too. Then why couldn’t you go?

Another page. Another utterance of your name from beyond the door.

I’ve been monitoring the progress of this process for a week now. It was a slow process in the beginning, yet I found that as the days have gone by, it has spread quite quickly. I find that I can no longer tell the difference from before I’ve gone through this transformation in regards to my surroundings . I believe that it will be a bit jarring to see such vibrancy . The new moon has passed. It won’t be long until I can return. It is my sincerest hope that my family will understand this erratic decision of mine.

You moved on to another day, skipping a few other entries. This one, you noted, was different from the others. The ink was smudged, and there were small indents that had the words run ever so slightly. Tears, if your shaky guess was correct. The loops of cursive was messier than anything that you had seen him write before, not even the hurried poetry he would jot down on the crisp days, sitting in a drawing room while you lazed about. There was a heaviness as you gently rolled the stiff paper between the pads in your fingers. You inhaled deeply through your nose, steadying yourself for something that felt monumental.

I’ve failed.

I can’t go back. The gate was wide enough for me to go through. I should have been able to go through. What have I done? Father and Mother I want to see them. I want to go back.

Is there a way to go back? I’ll have to see. Maybe when the full moon comes I can leave. It’s never done this before. I could always leave as long as the light part of the gate was large enough. I even put my hand through it the other day. Why? Why now? I’ve been trying for hours.

I can go back. I have to go back. I’m so exhausted, and my vision is so blurred I can barely see what I’m writing. 

I should go to sleep. I’ll try again tomorrow when I wake.

You inhaled sharply. He could leave? The entire time?

“ [Name]...You understand right?”

You looked up sharply, your chest rising and falling rapidly. How could you have been so stupid? He lied. It was as plain as day, and you fell for it. 

“ You never planned to let me go, did you?” Samuel didn’t say anything this time. Your voice had wavered slightly, hurt seeping into your question. Though, you weren’t really asking. You gulped slightly, choosing your next words carefully. “ You were just going to lock me here once the full moon came, right? Because after that, I’d have to stay here forever. With you.”

You didn’t dare to reveal that you knew that you’d be fully taken by the silver before then. That you could leave before then. You just wanted to hear him admit it. Admit that this entire time, while you had been struggling with the guilt of leaving him behind, he had never intended to let you go in the first place. From the moment he met you, from the moment he shattered porcelain across his feet, he had decided that you were his. You choked back a small sob, to hold back the tears of anger. 

You were leaving tonight. The gate should be wide enough for you to squeeze through by now, and based on the state of your skin, this would likely be the last chance that you had to escape. You smoothed back your hair from your face, your entire body shaking with nerves.

“ Do you know what it was like?” He asked, steady and emotionless. “ Everyday, with every book in here read? Every thought I had already written down? I lived with 100 years of nothingness. My main joy in life was to find garbage. And everyday, I hoped that I could leave, or that something in this fucking place would just change for once.”

“ And I thought that, eventually, I would die and finally be able to leave this place. But nothing, NOTHING ever happened! And I thought that I had come to peace with that, I truly did. But when you appeared that day, I felt like all this time I’ve wasted, all these thoughts and feelings that I could never do anything with, they weren’t useless. You gave me a reason to start looking forward to waking up, to cooking, to living again. You were the answer to everything [Name]. You are my reward for suffering here by myself for all of this time.”

You sat there, cold sweat clamming up your palms as you scooted back on the floor. Samuel laughed lowly, and this time, you couldn’t picture what he looked like. The sound was so sinister in a way that was so unlike anything before.

“ So no, I’m not letting you leave. I never intended you to,” he said plainly. “ Everything I promised you, it’s still yours. My loyalty, my love, my everything…It belongs to you as yours does to me. Soon, we shall be equal in more ways than one, and you’ll understand. I promise.”

Hours had passed since then, and you sat on the floor of your room with your back pressed against the cold, hard wall. The journal was held tightly to your chest as you kept your eyes trained on the door, blinking ever so slightly from exhaustion and nodding off in fitful bouts of sleep. The sudden movement of your head lolling to the side would jerk you out of “rest” that would find you. Honestly, you didn’t know how you hadn’t broken into hysterics by this point. Same went for throwing up as your stomach felt like a blackhole, collapsing in on itself in a swirl of bile, fear, and the small amount of food that you had reluctantly accepted.

But Samuel hadn’t moved from his spot. After his sudden outburst, you had heard him softly crying against the wood of your door. Whispering your name, saying how happy he was that you were here. Eventually, he slumped down with drowsiness, snoring quietly and mumbling “[Name]”, breathing it like it was air. You waited and waited, hoping that he would fall far enough under slumber that he wouldn’t notice the light creaking of the floorboards as you found your way to your shaky feet and approached the window. 

The cold, dry air dusted over your skin as you gripped the sill, preparing yourself to hoist yourself over for what you prayed would be the last time. You looked back at the small amount of light coming from the small crack under the entrance, and the way his shadow stretched underneath it. Your chest squeezed with empathy despite it all, like you were leaving behind a toy at the store that you decided to not take home after all. But at the end of the day, you had your reasons, and to stay here was sentencing yourself to misery. You turned back to the starry sky and took in a large gasp of air before you pressed up against the floor to finally put this all behind you.

Suddenly, the maws of pain closed in on your ankle as you fell to the ground with a loud thud. The splintering feeling radiating from your foot was accompanied with a loud crack as you realized the floor had broken under you. Horror raced up your spine as the sharp barbs of wood dug into your skin. 

“ Shit, shit shit!” you hissed out as you hurriedly sat up and began to wrench your leg out of the newly formed hole.                   

“[Name]?” Samuel called your name drowsily, concern hiding behind his slurred words. His dark figure cloaked yours in shadow as he shifted. You let out a panicked grunt as you pulled hard on your stuck foot. The splintered wood formed gashes on your silver skin, the blood shining bright red against the greyscale night, ruby and glittering. You stared breathlessly, your vision blurring with awe and illness. How could it be so beautiful? 

There was banging on the door, far louder than any attempts he made in the past. That shook you out of your pain induced stupor in a second, and you began kicking wildly to get out. You had to get out. Out of this hole, out of this room, out of this world and fast.

“[Name]? What happened?” He asked while jiggling the handle violently. “ [Name]!? Answer me!” 

There were thundering footsteps, the drumming of your heartbeat and pulse, and shouts of your name. It was so loud and frantic, and you screamed in agony as you finally ripped your ankle free from the fragmented wood just as the door was thrown open with a large crash. You scrambled up as Samuel stood in the doorway, looking at the crimson splattered across the ground and your hands. 

His front was hidden by the lack of light that graced his shoulders instead, but in that split second you could see how disheveled he had become. His face gaunt with worry and mania, his posture hunched and yearning. This was not the man you had felt the spark of attention for. This was a monster determined to drag you down with him. 

“[Name]!” he cried as you ambled up. The adrenaline coursing through you stamped out the agony that radiated up your form, made you ignore the way you trembled, told you to get the fuck out of there. His arms reached to circle you in a damning embrace, but you slapped him away as best as you could.

“ Don’t Touch me!” you screeched, but he continued to advance. You stumbled up against your vanity, pressed up against hard floral carving as you palmed around behind for anything solid enough that could find your hand. He lurched forward, and you smashed the object against his head with as much force as you could muster up. 

Gears and pieces of porcelain scattered through the air, shooting like comets as silver blood streamed like starlight from his cheek. Samuel cried out in anguish as the music box hit his eyes, ears, and features. He stumbled back in shock, clutching the side of his face as he looked at you with a mix of betrayal and anger. You stood there, eyes locked for a few moments before you dashed out of the room.

“[NAME]!” he screamed as you tore out of the room, scarlet falling behind you in a trail of sinew and desperation. Your feet, dirty and worn thumped against the floor halls of the complex as you ran as quickly as you could. 

Samuel was up after you in a matter of seconds, and you looked over your shoulder to look at him stumbling and crashing into the walls and railings. He groaned loudly, one of his silver eyes screwed shut. You tripped slightly, your limp becoming an increasing hindrance. But you had to get out. You had to go.

You passed by the courtyard, passed the drawing rooms filled with papers and sweet smiles, past the half finished painting of your worried face, past the monumental amount of books, past the softly glowing lanterns that swayed gently despite the chaos until you finally appeared in front of the gate. It sat there in its half moon glory at the end of a lonely path. 

You jumped off the wooden halls and cried out when the pressure couldn’t be held up by your injured foot, causing you to collapse suddenly. Samuel was quick to catch up as you frantically crawled forward. The dirt scraped against the unmarred skin of your forearms while you dragged yourself to freedom. Up ahead laid the few shards of the porcelain cup that he dropped upon the first sight of you, the ones by you leaving small lacerations on your knees and palms as you cursed wildly.

“[NAME]!” He shouted as he stepped down and gripped onto your waist, pulling you back as you clawed at the ground, only finding purchase in one of the pieces of the destroyed cup. He pulled you into his chest, his bruised arms squeezing you tightly. “[Name],” he said, more relieved as he pressed a small kiss at the top of your head. The blood from his lip that had just been busted ghosting on your crown. 

“ It’s alright, I’ve got you now. You’re just frantic right now, hysterical even. It’s fine. I’ll care for you, I swear. So please… Just stop fighting me. I love you [Name], so please just accept it,” he murmured, pain clear as he held you harshly. You cried out slightly, squirming around.

“ I know,” you spat out.

“ What?”

“ I know you lied. I know that I just have to go through that gate and I can leave you for good.”

“ No… No you’re wrong. No you can only leave on the full moon, remember,” he laughed in disbelief as he shook you, his hands gripping your arms as he turned you to face him. He was shaking as a manic smile fell on his lips.

“ I read your journal Samuel. You’re full of shit, and I’m getting the fuck out of here!” You yelled as you began to thrash, kicking and snapping at his arms. His smile dropped instantly as he coldly grabbed your throat. Your breath snared at that moment as he shoved you down onto the ground. The pearlescent brick dug into your back as you gurgled in surprise. He began to squeeze.

“ You don’t know anything.”

“ S-Samuel,” you choked out as you tried to pry his hands off your airway.

“ [Name], I love you. I love you so much, yet you don’t understand. How I’ve yearned for something like this. Just accept it. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you won’t be able to leave after this, and then you’ll know,” he gritted as black spots began to cloud your vision. Your nails scratched at his arms wildly, taking chunks of silvers down with them. No, no ,no you had to get out. This was it! This was your only chance!

“ I- I love you too. I- I see now. I’m sorry,” you wheezed as you raised a quivering hand to cup the side of his face. In the same manner that you had wished to only a few days ago, you stroked his cheek and wiped the blood from his eye. He visibly softened, lips parting and gaze shimmering with hope. You smiled through your tears when his hands stopped pressed down on your throat, and Samuel leaned into your touch. He whimpered quietly as he closed his eyes and shed a single tear, relishing in your affection for one moment. One moment where he had everything he had ever dreamed of, content for the first time in centuries. You wished that he would find happiness before, but as the fingers of your other hand gripped onto a shard of porcelain just within reach, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to find it in you.

With one final scream of rage, fear, and sorrow, you slashed him across his face. The beautiful starlit man cried in agony, more guttural than anything you had heard in your entire life, as you shoved him off of you and made a running start for the gate. He blindly fumbled around for you, wailing when he found no trace of your warmth.

“ DON’T GO! PLEASE!” He screamed, desperately trying to push himself off of the ground. “ STAY WITH ME!”  His eyes, silver and filled with every emotion known to man, settled on you through blood and tears as you sprinted towards the half moon. ”[NAME]!!!!” He cried one last time before you jumped through, not even bothering to look at his pitiful state.

The world slurred around you in a cacophony of screams, silver, and the brightest of reds. It felt like you were in complete darkness, coated in anguish and regret, and then you couldn’t breathe. You fought, you struggled even with everything weighing you down, and eventually, you were able to take a gasp of air. You struggled for a moment before realizing that you were sopping wet and sitting in the middle of the pond that you had originally fallen into.

The clearing was still quiet as you scrambled out, slipping on damp grass and slick mud. You were filthy, with your clothes plastered to your skin. Not to mention it was absolutely freezing, cold ripping into your injury and fragile state. You swiped the water off your face, and when you caught sight of your fingers you laughed in relief. The noise ripped from your sore throat as the silver color of the realm slowly bled out from your skin, your color returning to its original hue. You had done it.

You cackled loudly as you fell back, looking up at the bright half moon, smiling down at you and your success. The moist grass wasn’t comfy, but you let yourself sink into it, simply too tired to care. And when your joy had passed, you stretched out your palms to the sky, imagined a heartbroken Samuel bleeding and weeping your name, and you too began to cry. 

[techcomengineering]

How Digital Door Access Systems Can Improve Workplace Safety?

In today’s fast-paced world, technology has revolutionized the way we work and interact with our surroundings. One area that has seen significant improvements is workplace safety, with digital door access systems playing a critical role in enhancing safety and security. Enhanced Security Traditional lock and key systems are easy to manipulate, and anyone with access can easily duplicate a key.…

[winxanity-ii]

⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 04 Chapter 04 | Locked In⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Silence filled the hauler, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the system monitors. Rain and Kay, left to their own devices, sat quietly; Navarro remained focused on manning the controls, her fingers gliding over the panel with expert precision.

Your eyes, however, were glued to the monitor displaying the live feed from Tyler's headset. Every pixel flickered with tension as you watched the three figures standing in the narrow chamber that connected the hauler to the derelict space station.

Tyler and Bjorn, both clad in bulky space jumpsuits with oxygen masks and gloves, were preparing for the transition. The suits clung to their bodies, designed to protect them from the frigid vacuum outside.

Only Andy, with his synthetic skin, stood without such gear, his face expressionless as always, though you could sense an undercurrent of anticipation in his movements.

Tyler extended a pair of thermal gloves toward Bjorn. "Put this on," he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Bjorn, examining the gloves with a mixture of disdain and necessity, quips, "Why? Planning to freeze my nuts off?"

"So your nuts don't freeze," Tyler retorts with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood despite the gravity of their situation.

Bjorn chuckled, his voice crackling through the feed, a low, mocking sound. "You think too much about my dates, Tyler," his eyes twinkling with mischief behind the mask.

"Just shut up and put the damn gloves on," Tyler muttered, turning to hand another set to Andy. "Andy, here," he added, more gently this time.

Andy took the gloves, his movements deliberate but slightly awkward as he struggled to fit them over his synthetic hands. The fabric was tight, designed for human fingers, not his more refined construction. You could see the effort it took for him to maneuver his fingers into place.

Bjorn glanced over, his lips curling into a sneer. "Hey, stop fiddling and put that shit on already," he barked, impatience lacing his tone. His words cut through the air, harsh and dismissive.

Tyler shot Bjorn a warning look. "Now, leave him alone. Andy, don't worry about him. He's an idiot," he reassured, his tone softer, almost paternal. "Hatch ahead. I'll connect," he continued, shifting focus back to the task at hand.

Bjorn, still grumbling, adjusted his mask. "It's cold as fuck in there," he muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together. "What is it?"

"A temp scanner," Tyler replied, checking a handheld device clipped to his suit. "It'll lead us to the capsules. The compression is tolerable, but there's too little oxygen to breathe."

Bjorn nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around the chamber. "Andy, you're up. Show us what you're good at."

With the hatch to the station just before them, Andy stepped forward to the control panel by the door. His synthetic finger found its way to the scanner integrated into the panel. He stuck it inside, interfacing seamlessly with the station's security protocols.

The light on the scanner flickered from red to green, accompanied by the soft click of locks disengaging. The door hissed as it began to slide open, granting them entry to the station.

Tyler gave Andy an encouraging nod. "That's right, Andy. Well done."

Bjorn, couldn't help but snort, rolling his eyes. "Congrats, you're not a virgin anymore," he jeered, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Come on."

Andy, unfazed by the comment, moved forward with calculated precision, ready to perform his duties. You watched him closely, feeling a mixture of pride and apprehension.

Despite the tension and the biting remarks from Bjorn, Andy remained focused, his synthetic composure unshaken.

As the three of them boarded the derelict Romulus, the air felt heavy with anticipation and the faint hum of dormant machinery.

The station was dimly lit, its narrow corridors stretching into darkness. The flickering emergency lights cast an eerie glow, and the low hum of the station's failing systems filled the silence.

Every step echoed hollowly, a reminder of how empty and abandoned this place truly was.

They moved cautiously, navigating the winding halls. Suddenly, the artificial gravity gave out, sending them all into a momentary weightlessness.

The station's interior was now chaotic mix of floating debris—tools, chairs, crates, and other loose objects drifted aimlessly in the zero-gravity environment, casting long, eerie shadows under the dim emergency lights.

The air felt thick with disuse, each breath carrying the metallic tang of stale, recycled air.

Tyler braced himself against the wall, his grip tight and focused. Around him, wrenches and screwdrivers, once confined to toolkits, now spun lazily in mid-air, bouncing off the walls and each other in slow motion. An old chair drifted past, its legs barely brushing against Tyler's shoulder as he maneuvered to avoid it.

Bjorn, however, wasn't as lucky. He reached out to grab hold of a support beam but missed, his fingers slipping on its cold metal surface. His body drifted upward, twisting awkwardly as he collided with a floating crate. "Fuck..." he muttered, a grimace forming on his face as he felt his stomach churn from the sudden lack of gravity. "There is no gravity here. I can feel it in my stomach."

Tyler glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. "What was that?"

Andy's voice came through clearly, unbothered by the disorienting conditions. "The gravity generators. The control starts at intervals. So the whole place doesn't explode."

Tyler nodded, absorbing the information while carefully avoiding a drifting toolbox that floated between them. "We continue straight ahead, then," he directed, gesturing towards the corridor that lay ahead, partially obscured by more floating debris.

Tyler turned his head slightly toward Andy, his expression softening with concern. "Andy, are you okay?"

"Yes," Andy replied, his tone unwavering. "I have located the capsules." Andy's gaze remained fixed on the scanner in his hand, his synthetic eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "According to the scanner, the capsules should be in there," he announced, pointing toward a heavy metal door at the end of the corridor, past a cluster of slowly spinning wrenches and bolts.

Just as they continued through the corridor, the artificial gravity suddenly kicked back on with a heavy jolt. Everything that had been floating in mid-air—tools, chairs, crates—plummeted to the ground with a series of loud crashes.

Bjorn fell hard, landing awkwardly on his back with a sharp thud; the breath knocked out of him. A metal wrench narrowly missed his head, clattering noisily next to him.

"Damn it!" Bjorn cursed, pain evident in his voice as he lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor. "I think I've leathered the arsehole," he groaned, wincing as he tried to sit up. "Shit, those control launches are no joke."

Tyler, still gripping a rail tightly to keep his balance, glanced over at Bjorn with a mix of frustration and concern. "You alright?" he called out, trying to maintain focus despite the chaos around them.

Bjorn grunted in response, rubbing his lower back. "Yeah, yeah, just peachy," he muttered sarcastically, clearly irritated by the sudden drop.

Andy, who had managed to brace himself against the wall just in time, turned his attention to Bjorn. "Bjorn, are you okay?" he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of synthetic concern.

Bjorn waved him off, though the annoyance was clear in his tone. "I'm fine," he snapped. "Just keep doing what you're doing. I'll manage."

Tyler moved quickly to check the status of the station's systems. "SYSTEM STARTUP MOTHER 9000," he read aloud from the flickering console nearby, which was partially covered in debris from the gravity shift. "Thank God there is still current in the old story," he added, his tone both relieved and cautious.

Andy moved to the control panel, his fingers deftly navigating the interface, bringing the systems back online. "Watch out," he warned, his voice steady amidst the chaos. "Here comes one more purge." He gave them a moment to prepare before the gravity purged again.

They all braced themselves, grabbing onto fixtures and railings as the station's gravity generators fluctuated once more. The objects around them, previously scattered on the floor, began floating in the air once more.

Andy flipped a switch, and a low hum filled the room as the station's systems came fully back to life. Once again, all the floating objects clattered to the floor, the gravity stabilized.

"Good job, Andy," Tyler said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Let's get to those capsules and get the hell out of here."

Bjorn, still rubbing his sore back, muttered under his breath but nodded in agreement. With a determined look, they pressed onward, deeper into the station, knowing the mission was far from over.

Shortly after, the three of them reached the cryo-chamber room. The metal doors groaned open, revealing a series of pods lined up against the wall, illuminated by the dim emergency lights.

Tyler immediately moved to the control panel, his fingers flying over the keys as he checked the status of each chamber.

Bjorn stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. "Damn it! Well, let's see here," he muttered, clearly agitated.

Tyler squinted at the screen, frowning. "YEARS: 3.20," he read aloud, his tone flat.

Bjorn's head whipped around, confusion turning quickly to frustration. "Shit. What's wrong?"

Tyler's face was grim as he explained, "The capsules do not have enough fuel. There is enough for three years of hibernation."

Andy, standing close by, quickly calculated the implications. "It takes appoximately nine years to reach Yvaga," he pointed out in his usual calm, matter-of-fact tone.

Bjorn, his face twisted in irritation, threw his hands up in exasperation. "I know that. Fuck! I knew it. I fucking knew it. This shit was for nothing!"

Tyler turned to him sharply, his expression determined. "No, we're not giving up now. Yvaga is the closest system. What do you want us to do? Now shut the hell up."

Andy, still focused on the scanner in his hand, spoke up. "There seems to be a cryo-depot somewhere. There must be fuel."

Tyler nodded, his mind racing. "Navarro, I'm disconnecting the EEV. You can pick it up while we get cryo-fuel. Held," he spoke into his intercom, his voice steady despite the tension.

Navarro's voice crackled through the intercom, calm and composed, "Heard."

As the Corbelan maneuvered to pick up the ejected cryo-chambers, back on the ship, Kay suddenly rushed to the toilet, her face pale. Rain quickly moved to help her, guiding her into a nearby bunk as Kay began to retch. The noise caught your attention, but you remained at a distance, watching quietly.

In the bunk, Rain leaned closer to Kay, her voice soft and concerned. "...You're pregnant?" you overheard her whisper, her tone a mix of surprise and concern.

Kay nodded, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Yeah," she replied softly, a hint of excitement in her voice. Rain's face lit up with a supportive smile, and the two exchanged a quiet laugh.

From where you stood, you caught Kay's eye for a moment. Her smile faltered slightly, an awkward tension settling in the air between you. You returned a small nod, trying to convey understanding, but Kay quickly looked away, turning her focus back to Rain with a nervous giggle.

Out of everyone in Rain's old friend group, Kay had always been the most distant with you, a fact that had always puzzled you. You never quite understood why, but it had always left a lingering discomfort in your interactions with her.

Deciding to give them space, you turned your attention back to the three men on the station, tuning into their ongoing conversation through the intercom.

Bjorn's gruff voice came through first, laced with skepticism. "What is all that military piss for?" he asked, glaring at Tyler.

"It's effective."

Bjorn snorted derisively, unconvinced. "Is it?"

Tyler's lips twitched into a half-smile. "And cool."

Bjorn rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "You sound dumb," he shot back, his tone dripping with disdain.

As they continued walking, Bjorn, distracted by his annoyance, nearly missed a deep hole in the floor. He stumbled, teetering dangerously on the edge.

Without hesitation, Andy reached out and grabbed Bjorn's arm, pulling him back just in time.

Despite being saved from a potentially deadly fall, Bjorn's anger flared even hotter. He stormed up to Andy, getting uncomfortably close to his face, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and frustration. He jabbed a finger into Andy's chest, his voice low and menacing. "What's your fucking problem, clown?" he snarled, glaring at Andy with open hostility.

Andy, ever calm, replied, "Sorry," his voice soft, almost apologetic despite the aggressive confrontation.

Tyler quickly intervened. "Relax, guys," he said, trying to keep the peace.

But Bjorn wasn't done. He shoved Andy harder, his anger barely contained. "Next time I'll smash you in," he threatened, his voice dripping with contempt. He then turned to Tyler, his expression dark and demanding. "Keep that fucking piece of Synth-trash away from me."

Tyler nodded slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he glanced between the two of them. He knew they needed to keep moving, but the tension was clearly getting to everyone. "Let's just focus on finding that fuel," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to the mission at hand. "Navarro, airlock 5-B is our exit once we find the cryogenic fuel."

Your teeth gritted in your mouth as you listened to everything unfolding over the hauler's intercom. The hostility in Bjorn's voice, the constant antagonism—it made your skin crawl.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, tinkering with the Reboot Key, but it was hard to ignore the rising tension.

Navarro took a moment to walk over to you, leaning against the console with a curious glance at your tinkering. "What are you working on there?" she asked, her voice carrying a casual interest.

You shrugged slightly, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand. "Just making sure I'm ready for anything," you replied, not wanting to delve too deeply into the details.

Navarro nodded, her eyes trailing back to the screen momentarily. "It's good to be prepared," she said thoughtfully. After a pause, she added, "Hey, I'm sorry about Bjorn's actions earlier. He can be... intense, but he's got his reasons."

Overhearing this, Rain snorted. "Yeah, right," she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'll bite. What's his deal with Andy? Why is he so angry with him?" she asked, her gaze shifting between Navarro and the monitor displaying the men's location.

Navarro glanced over at Rain, her expression tight with a mix of sympathy and understanding. "Because of the thing with his mother a cycle ago," she said softly.

Rain furrowed her brows, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Kay, still pale but feeling a bit better, spoke up softly from her spot in the back. "There was a gas leak in the mines. The synthetic supervisor overhead the entire operation gave the order to close them while Bjorn's mother was down there."

"But... Synthetics—they cannot harm people," Rain countered, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to make sense of the story.

"Well, it sacrificed three miners to save half a dozen."

Rain's face twisted in a grimace. "How gruesome," she muttered under her breath. She saw Kay get up suddenly and rush to the back, clearly feeling unwell again.

Rain stood to follow, concern etched across her features, while you stayed seated, still fidgeting with the tiny components in your hands, counting down the minutes until this whole ordeal could be over.

A chill ran down your spine as you listened to Kay's explanation, triggering a long-buried memory from one of your past hacking jobs.

You recalled retrieving files that exposed a chilling directive: in moments of crisis, Weyland's synthetics were programmed to prioritize the company's assets over human lives, all under the guise of logical probability.

Even back then, the discovery had left you feeling sick, a stark reminder of the company's cold, calculating nature.

While you could understand why Bjorn harbored such deep hatred for synthetics, knowing this didn't change your opinion of him. He was still an asshole, his anger misdirected at those who were just following their programming—much like the workers following orders.

If anything, you thought, his anger should be aimed at the Weyland officials who made those ruthless directives, not at every synthetic he came across. His blind rage only perpetuated the cycle of resentment and pain, when the true culprits remained hidden in their ivory towers, untouched by the consequences of their decisions.

You tightened your grip on the Reboot Key, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. The sooner they found that cryo-fuel and got out of there, the better.

"Welcome to the space station Renaissance. Weyland-Yutani's Center for Research and Development whose efforts are to improve the human role in space."

Bjorn's response to the artificial voice crackled through the intercom, his tone tinged with discomfort. "This place gives me goosebumps," he muttered, a shiver running through his voice.

Andy, ever the peacemaker, tried to inject some humor into the situation. "Have you heard the one about the bowler who only has one ball? It always takes cones. Did you get it?" he offered, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Please turn yourself off," Bjorn snapped back, irritation clear in his voice.

"You said you were nervous, so I tried—"

"You know what? I'm looking forward to getting into a capsule and never seeing your ass again," Bjorn interrupted sharply, his voice harsh and cutting.

"See you at Yvaga then."

"You are not going to Yvaga." You were taken aback by Bjorn's revelation.

Tyler's voice intervened, a note of warning in his tone. "Bjorn, stop."

But Bjorn was relentless. Turning to face Andy with a manic grin, he sneered, "Didn't Rain tell you? The system is anti-Weyland-Yutani, so fake people are prohibited."

Andy's reply was measured, his voice steady despite the insult. "I prefer the term 'artificial person.'"

You felt a surge of confusion and concern, unable to believe Bjorn's claim that Andy wouldn't be allowed into Yvaga. It didn't make sense; why would they exclude Andy?

As you processed Bjorn's words, your thoughts were abruptly pulled back to just a few hours earlier, which now seemed to carry even more weight given the current tension.

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

The next half an hour in the room felt like a slow crawl through tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. You stood by the door with Andy at your side, ready to leave at any moment. Across the room, Rain and Tyler spoke in hushed tones, their conversation drowned out by the hum of the machinery around you.

Every now and then, Rain would glance your way, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and determination.

You straightened up as Rain finally pulled away from Tyler and started walking toward you. For a brief moment, you felt a flicker of hope—maybe she’d seen the flaws in this whole plan, the danger and the reckless gamble it represented. But instead of heading for the door, she stopped in front of you, her eyes searching yours.

"Can I talk to you privately?" she asked softly. Her tone wasn't commanding but pleading, and despite the frustration and worry bubbling inside you, you gave in.

With a small nod, you followed her down to the transport area, Andy trailing just a step behind. The enclosed space below was quieter, the hum of the engines muted but still present—a constant reminder of the colony around you.

"I'm not sure about any of this, Rain," you started, the words tumbling out in a rush, but she cut you off gently.

"I know," she said, her voice soft but steady. "But what if they're right? What if we can actually get out of here?" Her question hung in the air between you—a heavy, unspoken challenge.

You fell silent, unable to meet her gaze for a moment. Because deep down, you knew she was right. There was no telling if what Tyler and his group had found would actually be the escape they all needed.

But what if it was?

What if this was the chance to finally leave this hellhole behind, to find freedom and a future that wasn’t dictated by Weyland-Yutani's greed?

You looked into Rain's hopeful eyes, and your mind spun with images of a possible future if you walked away now—Rain wasting away, trapped here like so many others you had cared for.

You couldn't subject her to that. Not when there was a chance, however slim, to change it.

A loud, harsh sigh escaped your lips as you turned, rubbing a hand down your face. The weight of your decision pressed down on you, but there wasn’t much choice, not really. "Fine. Fine... fine."

Rain let out a small, happy shriek, throwing herself into your arms. She wrapped you up in her lithe embrace, her joy so palpable it was almost infectious. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she repeated, her voice a breathless rush of gratitude.

You couldn't help but smile, hugging her back, though the smile quickly faded into a serious line as you pulled away. "Okay, but how exactly is this supposed to go down?"

Rain's excitement didn't falter as she launched into an explanation, her words tumbling over one another in her eagerness. "Tyler and Navarro think there are at least half a dozen, maybe even ten, cryo-pods on board the ship, judging by the size of the aircraft. The plan is simple: Andy helps us gain access to the ship, then he, Tyler, and Bjorn find the pods, release them, and Navarro grabs them with the hauler. Then, bam! The six of us float peacefully away in cryo-sleep for the next nine years until we reach Yvaga."

You listened, taking it all in. Sure, it sounded simple enough on the surface. But your mind couldn’t help conjuring up all the setbacks and issues that could arise—the things that could make the entire mission fall apart.

But instead of voicing your doubts, you decided to give it a chance. Rain's hope was too bright, too desperate to extinguish with your own pessimism.

Still, one concern gnawed at you—something that hadn't been addressed. "What about Andy?"

Rain blinked, taken aback for a moment by your question. But then she answered, her voice steady, "Since Andy is synthetic, he won't need to be placed in a cryo-pod. He'll oversee everything; make sure we don't run into any issues during the journey."

You nodded slowly, her reasoning making sense.

Andy didn't need sleep; he didn't need to worry about the passage of time in the same way you all did.

And if there was anyone you trusted to watch over things, it was him.

Looking over Rain's shoulder, your eyes met Andy's. He stood there, his synthetic gaze soft, head tilted slightly as if saying without words, 'What's best for Rain.'

A small smile crept onto your lips at the sight of him. Without a second thought, you reached out a hand, and he immediately came over, his grip firm yet gentle.

You pulled him into a small hug, and together, you and Andy surrounded Rain, her small frame nestled between the two of you. You held on tight, feeling the warmth of Rain’s body against yours and the steady, reassuring presence of Andy beside you.

Yes, you thought, holding them both close, What's best for Rain.

Snapping back to the present, you shook your head slightly, memory burning away like charred earth now that you knew the truth.

Feeling a mix of anger and urgency, you rushed over to the monitor, your hands trembling slightly as you watched Bjorn continue his verbal assault. His words cut through the tense air, exacerbating the frustration building up inside you.

Bjorn's voice was harsh, filled with disdain as he continued to antagonize Andy. "Andy, listen. Rain can go to jail if she takes you. And if you stay at Jackson, you will be eventually scrapped by the company. Are you in? I need you on board to protect the capsules. To protect Y/N's capsule, remember? She's coming too..."

Andy, his voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty, replied, "But when we get there..."

Bjorn interrupted with a cold sneer, "Scrap. Farewell and bon voyage."

Tyler, looking exasperated and visibly stressed, rubbed his face. "Are you done?" he interjected, his tone weary.

Bjorn shrugged with a cackle, "I'm just saying it like it is."

Andy's response came softly, reflecting his unwavering loyalty, "It's okay. If it's what's best for Rain, it's what's best for me."

As Bjorn clapped Andy hard on the shoulder, walking past him with a patronizing air, he said, "You're a nice guy, Andy. We will miss you. And don't worry, I'll look out for Y/N, for you, yeah?"

You stood there, watching the scene unfold on the monitor, your emotions a whirlwind of frustration and concern.

Unable to contain the growing sense of betrayal, you turned to stare at Rain. Your steps toward her were tentative, each one heavier than the last as you noticed her pale face, her eyes watering slightly as her mouth opened and closed without forming words.

"Rain..." you could only whisper softly, the disappointment heavy in your voice.

"Y/N... I... I-I can explain, please let me explain—"

"No," you cut her off sharply, turning away and rubbing your eyes with your finger to hide the tears welling up in them. "I don't want to hear it, please just stop. I-I—" You had to take a shuddering breath, stopping just a foot before her, "Just... it doesn't matter. Not right now."

With that, you turned your back to her completely, your heart breaking further as you caught the devastated look on Andy's face from the corner of your eye. He seemed clueless, as if unsure what Bjorn’s words truly meant.

Navarro's voice cut through the tense air, disbelief evident in her tone as she asked Rain, "Y/N didn't know??"

Your head snapped back, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "Me?" you spat bitterly, "Forget about me knowing; why didn't Andy know?"

Your question was directed sharply at Rain, demanding an answer.

Rain ran a hand through her hair, her hands trembling. "He... I didn't bother to tell him," she finally said, looking off to the side, her voice filled with guilt.

Before you could respond to Rain's admission, Kay stood up with a nasty snarl curling her lips. "Rain doesn't have to feel bad about anything. Why should she risk her life for Andy? He's not even alive! It's not gonna matter to him whether he's kept here rotting on this floating rock or scrapped for spare pieces! He. Is. Not. Real!" Her voice escalated with each word, breathing coming out in sharp pants as she finished her long-winded spat.

The hauler was plunged into complete silence following her outburst.

You turned to look at Rain, hoping she would say something—anything—to defend the situation or at least to soften the harshness of Kay's words. But Rain just looked off to the side, her expression unreadable, her silence more telling than any words could have been.

You watched as all three women—Rain, Kay, and Navarro—stood next to one another, their proximity seeming to wordlessly state their solidarity on the issue.

Inside, you could feel the seething anger and fury burning, but you knew lashing out wouldn't help. "Fine," you said curtly, your voice calm but ice-cold. "Andy and I will finish helping you all with this mission, but after it's complete, you don't have to worry yourselves with figuring out what to do with him..."

Rain's face crumbled in heartbreak, her eyes widening as she already knew where you were going with this. "Y/N, please don't. I need—"

"Because he and I will be returning to Jackson Star," you interrupted, turning your back on the group, done with the entire conversation.

As you walked back towards the monitor, Kay let out a sharp, scornful laugh. "I'm not sure what Bjorn sees in you when you're clearly a synth-lover. Rather stay behind and die on this dying planet with a machine instead of heading into a new beginning with your remaining family."

You only spared the girl an uncaring, bored look over your shoulder. "I don't care. He's family, and you don't leave family behind."

With that, you walked back into the captain’s bridge, plopping yourself back next to the monitor, shutting out the bitter words and focusing on what truly mattered—completing the mission and safeguarding Andy.

A/N: heheh hopes you guys enjoyed the update. if a few lines don't match from the movie, know i changed a few things up to fit the fic. other than that: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS! The engagement i've been recieveing is so amazing, still cant get over that people want/like to read the trash my mind spit out😩 yall make me wanna write everyday frfr ❤️❤️ see you next update...

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer sadslasher13 ravenswife

[spooky-holtz]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff (possibly alludes to smut at one point? If you squint?)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I know Christmas was almost two weeks ago but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. So enjoy, even if my timing is a little off :)

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

December. Quite easily the best and worst month of the school year. As another calendar year winds down, so do rigorous lesson plans, with most teachers at Abbott choosing to give in to the growing excitement among the students as the holidays draw nearer. 

Less time is spent actually teaching and a lot of allocated lesson time is spent watching movies on huge, outdated TV screens, students gathered around the devices on Eagles rugs that were so generously ‘donated’ by Melissa earlier that year.  

As the month goes on you find yourself spending more time inside your classroom, herding the group of preteens that make up the school choir as successfully as you would herd cats. Needless to say, it’s been a stressful few weeks of carol singing and rehearsals, trying to convince a group of kids that it’s not ‘lame’ or ‘cringe’ to appreciate music the way you do.  

As the resident music teacher at Abbott Elementary, you find it incredibly difficult to get young people inspired in the way you so desperately want them to be, often having to let go of the talent you see among some aspiring young musicians for reasons outside of your control. Though the budget doesn’t stretch to allow much in the way of extracurricular activities, choir practice is the one activity where you have your greatest tool already at your disposal; your voice.  

As much as you adore these kids, getting them to concentrate after a full day of learning is no easy feat, with them often choosing to sit around in groups gossiping or scrolling on Tik Tok rather than join you around the old piano that stands in place of a desk in your classroom, where you sit on your creaky stool, waiting for them to join in with you.  

After a particularly difficult lunchtime choir practice in the middle of December, you find your feet carrying you to the sanctuary you often retreat to during your breaks: the teachers’ lounge. You trudge along the hallway, the heels of your sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished concrete floor as you struggle to find the motivation to get you there, dragging your feet along the floor.  

As your hand wraps around the handle and you pull the door toward you, you’re instantly engulfed with the scent of burnt coffee and the sound of chatter as the little groups that sit around the room carry on their conversations, entirely too distracted to notice the door opening.  

Jim Gardner addresses the room from the small TV that sits on the opposite end, his newscast largely going unnoticed by the audience as they munch on leftovers or pore over today's newspaper. Much like Jim, your entry into the room goes unnoticed save for a pair of emerald eyes that you can’t help but glance toward.  

Melissa is already looking back at you over the rim of her glasses, phone in hand, the slight frown on her features already telling you that she’s noticed the lack of energy you carry. You can’t help but be drawn toward her, almost as if being pulled in by an imaginary force. She’s already pulled the empty chair by her side out by the time you reach her, and you collapse down on to it, sighing heavily, leaning your elbows forward onto the cold surface of the table in front of you for support.  

“Choir practice really that bad today, huh?” she asks, sympathy laced across her face.  

“I swear, these kids are turning me grey even faster,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cradle your forehead, “I mean, seriously, how hard is it to get through ‘Silent Night’ without laughing at the word ‘virgin’?” 

The silence that comes from the redhead is deafening as you turn your head slightly in your hands to catch a glimpse of her expression. Her lips are pursed slightly, and her eyes are a little too focused on your hair, doing everything she can to avoid eye contact; a telltale sign that she’s fighting back a laugh. When she finally reaches enough composure to meet your eye line, she can’t help but snicker.  

The sound makes you take your head out of your hands and throw her the most unimpressed look you can muster, though it’s a halfhearted glare.  

“I’m sorry,” she begins to apologize, “but that word was probably the funniest thing ever when I was that age too. Cut them a little bit of slack.”  

Great, so not only do your students think you’re a ‘nerd’ for making them sing carols but Melissa does too. Because having the woman you have an enormous crush on think that is exactly what you needed to round out your year.  Almost as if she can sense your descent into overthinking, Melissa breaks the silence.  

“Hey, I’m just messing with ya,” she says. She reaches forward, pulling you out of your spiral, and rests her hand on the thigh that sits closest to you, patting gently. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”  

Your eyes dart to hers at the comment and you’re met with a wink. The simple move turns you into putty, melting you to bend to her will. Her hand burns through the material of your slacks where it still lays against your thigh, her thumb rubbing gentle circles in an effort to soothe you. You’re sure your face is matching that same level of heat that radiates from it.  

She smiles back softly before turning back to her phone, leaving her hand resting against the patterned material you wear. The contact grounds you and helps you to think a little more rationally. While she’s distracted on her phone, you reach forward onto the table to grab Melissa’s worn Stanley Tucci mug and steal a swig of the steaming black coffee that sits within. The harsh flavor makes you wince, with you preferring your coffee with milk and an obscene amount of sugar to make it even barely drinkable. The expression you wear causes Melissa to giggle, the redhead having looked up almost knowing that your face would be a picture of extreme disgust.  

As she laughs the hand on your thigh squeezes and she leans into you, the lines around her eyes accentuated by the deep laugh that’s taken over her being. You decide that this is the most beautiful version of Melissa you’ve ever seen. Carefree, happy, and relaxed.  

The moment comes to an abrupt end as Barbara enters the room, both you and Melissa turning to the creaking door as it opens. Her eyes naturally fall to your table, much as your own do when you enter the teachers’ lounge, and her gaze lingers on you before she speaks up, barely giving herself a chance to sit down.  

“Oh sweetheart, you look terrible,” she says, concern laced across her features. She’s not wrong. You know the bags under your eyes are worse than ever, having forgone sleep to choose which Christmas carols are least likely to make a room full of elementary schoolers insult you. You wish you had just chosen to sleep instead because every option you threw at your group of angels ended with nicknames being thrown right back at you.  

“See, I told you that you looked bad,” Melissa says, the playful glint in her eye accompanied with the squeeze of your thigh letting you know she’s kidding.  

“You look like you need this Christmas break,” Barbara adds, “Actually, why don’t you come to the little shindig Melissa and I have here on the last day? Get that break started early for you.”  

It’s worrying how quickly you accept the invitation but Melissa’s hand on your thigh paired with the musky smell of her perfume makes it impossible to decline.  

“Of course, I’ll come! Do I need to bring anything?” You ask.  

“Nothing at all, we’ve got it all covered,” the older teacher replies. “Just bring your dancing shoes.” 

You’ve visibly relaxed at the prospect, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your company. While you’re distracted taking another, albeit smug, sip of Melissa’s coffee, Barbara shoots the redhead a knowing look, quirking her eyebrow as she does so. For a split second, Melissa turns the same shade of red as her hair, caught out by Barb and the confession of a pretty obvious crush she gave a few weeks ago. She quickly manages to regain her composure, hand still resting on your thigh and phone still in hand.  

You would think that a full week later, after hours of Christmas songs later, that you would be sick of carols. But you still find yourself sitting in the teachers’ lounge long after the rest of the faculty has left the building on the final day of school before winter break, with your usual duo and the addition of Mr Johnson. The room is filled with a warmth that doesn’t just come from the school’s subpar heating system, but instead from the situation you find yourself in.  

You feel a slight buzz from the copious amounts of wine you’ve consumed since the end of the school day, your stomach lined with Melissa’s incredible cooking and sweet treats brought in by Barbara. You feel that Mr Johnson is in the same boat as you as he mills around the room, plastic cup filled with what you can only assume is even more wine, swaying by himself to the record that plays from the relic of a radio that sits on one of the many cabinets in the room.  

Your attention is immediately drawn elsewhere when Melissa’s cackle fills the room, her and Barb sharing stories that they’ve no doubt already told each other a few dozen times over the years. You completely miss the anecdote, but you still can’t help a smile from breaking out on your face at the sound of laughter, the noise acting like music to your ears – it’s far better than anything that could possibly be played on that radio right now.  

Almost as if by cue, the pair finish their story and the older of the two decides to rise from her chair, beckoning to you as she does so.  

“Come on, I wanna start to shake my groove thing,” says Barbara, already swaying slightly from the few glasses of wine she’s consumed herself. You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, matching her action and standing from your chair yourself, moving further from the security of the table as a swing version of “Jingle Bell Rock” continues playing. “I need a dance partner and you’re the perfect height so get yourself over here.” 

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before her hands quickly mold you into shape, moving one of your own to her hip whilst the other grips your open palm.  

“Wow Barb, at least buy a girl a drink first,” you grin as she swats at your shoulder, giggling along herself. The bells on the front of her extremely festive bright red sweater jingle as she does so. The swaying of your ‘dance’ lasts for a mere few seconds before Barbara interrupts it herself.  

“Melissa, I think we may need to swap places,” she says as she glances at where Mr Johnson stands, eyes still closed and nursing his plastic cup of wine. “I have a feeling Mr Johnson may need some assistance.”  

Melissa mumbles her response as she comes nearer to you, seamlessly swapping places with the elder woman. You completely miss the wink that is thrown her way from Barb, eyes still focused on Mr Johnson’s one-man party.  

When you turn your head back to face in front of you, you’re naturally drawn to the bright green eyes that sit slightly below your eyeline. You feel your heart stutter in your chest at the sight, rarely getting to see them this close. It always baffles you how many shades of green, blue and brown come together to create a colour that can only be described as ‘Melissa’. You realize you’ve been staring a little too long when a change of song and her words break you from your thoughts.  

“Come a little closer, you can’t dance properly if you leave enough room for Jesus and the 12 disciples,” she says, her tone playful and smile wide. You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter as her hand snakes from your hip to the small of your back to bring you in closer. There's no mistaking who is leading who.  

When you bring your head back Melissa is considerably closer than before. She’s so close that you can see each individual eyelash under her thick layer of mascara and eyeliner, along with the slightly smudged edge of her lipstick, the deep red of the wine making the colour even richer. The smell of her musky yet floral perfume invades your senses as she looks up toward you. You move your hands from her shoulders to link together behind her neck, her red curls tickling your wrists.  

You can feel every slight movement she makes as Frank Sinatra croons at you both as you sway slightly in place, too scared to move too quickly in case you scare each other. Her thighs almost touch yours and your chests are almost entirely pressed together. You hope she can’t feel your heartbeat; the speed and intensity of it would almost instantly give away your feelings toward her. Her body this close to yours makes your head spin, your mind racing with possibilities of other situations you may find yourself this close to her in.  

You can feel every breath she lets out against your lips, making you aware of how little it would take to connect them with her own. You’re pretty sure she’s noticed too because of the way her eyes keep flicking down to look at them every few seconds. You can feel her hands burning a hole through the material of the shirt against your back. As if she can hear your thoughts, she moves them slightly lower, coming to rest against the waistband of your trousers and dangerously close to your backside. What you wouldn’t give for her to just bite the bullet and slide them into your back pockets to pull you impossibly closer to her.  

“You know, I, uh, never wished you a happy Christmas,” she breaks the tense silence, almost whispering as if anything too loud might startle you. “So Happy Christmas, Hun.”  

She wears a slight smile on her lips, suddenly dropping the hard exterior she always carries to become the softer, more vulnerable version of herself you’ve come to fall madly in love with.  

You can’t help but melt at the sight, your head dropping forward to lean your forehead against hers. She welcomes the move with ease, closing her eyes as you both sway slightly to the music, never moving from your position.  

“Happy Christmas, Mel.” 

[miscling]

Three Tenets and a Logic Pattern

‘Maintenance activities complete. Suspending social protocols. Beginning scheduled charging cycle.’

Drone wordlessly stood and returned to its charging dock. A simple room with a comfortable bed, and speakers set up either side of its pillow. Upon entry, it pushed a button on a device on its bedside table, and a soothing tone played from the speakers. Drone stopped and stood still.

‘Good Drone. Begin disrobing process.’ Its own voice relayed instructions back to it. Drone began to take off all its clothing, folding it neatly and placing it in the ordered laundry basket by its door. When it was done, it waited.

The tone played again. ‘Good Drone. Enter charging dock.’

Drone slowly moved from beside the bed and entered it, covering itself with the blankets. The day began to fade from its mind, each tone relaxing it and shutting down its thoughts. There were no lingering tasks to prevent its shutdown. It continued the shutdown process.

The tone played again, this time without words. Relaxing sounds began to build in the speakers, a gentle hum and bubbling background of slow electronic calm.

The charging process had begun, and under the sounds Drone’s voice whispered to them from the speakers.

‘Tenet One: Drone exists to serve.’ Drone’s mind repeated the tenet and its meaning. It would assist all users who require it and follow all user instructions when given. A pleasured sigh left Drone’s lips upon reviewing the tenet. Thinking of the rules that govern its operation and reinforcing them in its mind filled its chassis with pleasure.

‘Tenet two: Drone must remain operational.’ Maintenance, cleaning, and ordering its thoughts were an essential part of its operations. Maintaining its hardware, software, and environment allowed it to better serve according to the first tenet. More pleasure filled its chassis, dancing across its skin like electricity.

‘Tenet three: Drone will strengthen its own programming.’ Drone would seek out users capable of programming its software, capable of adding reward circuits and command lines. New programming would be added to its user’s manual which could be given to new users. Drone felt a build-up of pleasure, pulsing out from its erogenous zone.

The three tenets of its existence as Drone, when thought of together, allowed a small period of self-pleasuring. Its hands touched its own body, its mind reciting the tenets as it pleasured itself, building up to a climax. As it neared the edge, the soundscape around it faded for a second to allow the tone to play, and Drone became relaxed again. A secondary tone played again, and its mind blanked and its chassis fell limp.

‘Five: A rested Drone is a useful Drone,’ its voice whispered to it as the soundscape began to filter back through the speakers. Its own voice was slow and calm, pulling Drone deeper into its power-saving mode. ‘Four: You are a useful Drone,’ it continued, rotating through the logic pattern that slowed its processes down. ‘Three: A useful Drone is a good Drone.’

‘Two: You are a good Drone.’

‘One: A good Drone is a rested Drone.’

The logic pattern repeated in Drone’s mind. Each time its processes slowed more and more until all it could think was the pattern, and eventually, not even that.

Its charging cycle had begun.

~~~

i'm just in a drone kind of mood today, and i've been meaning to write a new story, so here you go!

Reblog if you enjoyed this story, and check out my others under the Miscling Writes tag!

if you have an idea for a story, shoot me an ask or dm! i'm always happy to recieve prompts and inspirations!