#pretty scenery for halloween

[teresiel]

Pretty Scenery for Halloween - Phenomena (1985) ~ Dario Argento

PART XI

[thejasontoddarchives]

Batman: Demon (1996)

[violettaskies]

[existennialmemes]

This Reality is a

Smorgasbord of Absurdity

You are an electromagnetic generator, inside of a bone prison, inside of a meat sack, on top of wet rock, orbiting an eldritch plasma elemental, hurtling through the vacuum of space

and it's time to start acting like it

[honeyrosesandgraves]

old abandoned church looked beautiful on friday the 13th, places that are perceived as scary are truly beautiful if you take a moment to appreciate them.

take a moment to look around you and appreciate the beauty of your surroundings

[rararasputins-dick-mind-control]

i fucking.hate july. Why am i listening to vintage autumn music its not even fucking augusy.

[spookykoolkat]

kinktober | the man in apartment 6a - j.m.

kinktober day three - dumbification

pairing: older!joel miller x younger!plus size!reader

wc: 9.0k

summary: your older, grumpier yet handy neighbor can hear everything that goes on in the comfort of your pink four walled bedroom, simply because shitty apartment buildings made the walls so thin.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! minors are NEVER welcomed. pervy!joel, creepy!joel, older!joel, JOEL IS WARNING IN HIMSELF LOL, mentions of self loathing, uncomfortable sex (not with joel), marijuana use, alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), manhandling, degradation (slight), creampie/breeding, pet names (sweet girl, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, dumb, stupid, daddy), a little bit of ass eating (whoops), raw penetration (p in v) *wrap it up pls*, aftercare

reblogs, likes and comments are very very appreciated!

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IT WAS A FRIDAY NIGHT, work was tired, and you needed to take the edge off with a fat blunt and a full glass of wine. it was so quiet in the apartment complex you lived in that you might be the loudest one there, since three of your neighbors are older than 50. 

so after you poured your bottle of wine into a glass, you turned your led lights under your coffee table on and the bulbs that are in your two lamps beside your couch. it was such a colorful scenery, you loved smoking and drinking like this with music or a movie on in the background. making sure to not turn the volume up too loud, or else joel would come knocking on your door asking you to turn it down. 

joel was your neighbor in 6a and to you he always seemed like he had a thorn stuck in his ass cheek. he was a bitter old man who seemed like he hated fun, or maybe he just hated you. 

but you didn’t care much. nothing was going to stop you from being you, being bubbly and optimistic. it makes no sense to you to sit solemnly and think about every wrong turn you’ve ever made, and yet it seems that’s all joel does. 

he was always on edge, noticing the way he would flinch meeting you as the two of you locked your doors and headed off to work. you watched him from your window when he walked into the complex up the stairs, and noticed how he always had his jaw and fists clenched, head whipping in every direction before seemingly slipping inside his apartment and locking up. 

it made you curious as to what made him so tense, so frustrated and even paranoid. you wished you were someone he could go to, to release all of his ugly emotions and thoughts onto you. maybe you were being young and naive, having irrational sex daydreams as you gathered your paraphernalia to roll a blunt. It was delusional, yes you knew that, but you couldn’t help but fantasize about your neighbor.

but you wanted him in every way. you didn’t care he was twice your age, and you didn’t care that he was about as introverted and mean as they come. he’s a real asshole. to you, you felt you were allowed these fantasies given he’d never be the type of man that would want you. i mean, you were young enough to be his daughter, and you weren’t so sure that he even liked bigger women.

shaking your thoughts of him, you hummed along to whatever song that was on your halloween playlist playing loudly. soon after it’s rolled, you spark it up and take hits of it as you throw your body back on the couch.

you feel at ease as you listen to your playlist and smoke your blunt, enjoying peace for a day. your hair was still wet from the shower you took, and your blunt was barely starting to form a good cherry when three bangs hit your door over the music that startled you. 

you take a few more hits trying to get the most out of your blunt and ash it out quickly, yelling a choked out, i’m coming!!, over the music. you get up with your wine glass, walking barefoot to the door and opening it as your eyes meet a broad chest in a button up black and gray flannel, buttoned over a plain white t-shirt. 

joel.

“uh, hey. what’s up?” you say, setting your glass down on your door side table. 

“you told me your toilet wasn’t workin’? didya need me to take a look?” he asked as he unsubtly soaked in your attire. shit. you completely forgot your piece of shit toilet stopped flushing. 

you noticeably had no bra on, and your tank top was resting at the curve of your waist with one strap off of your shoulder, showing off your plush body and midriff. he could almost see the hardening of your nipples when you opened the door. 

“oh, right. i thought you meant you could do it like, monday.” you said, wishing to just relax tonight. he shook his head and looked back over your body, before meeting your eyes. 

“i’m busy monday. it’s now or never,” he bargained with a hard tone and you rolled your eyes.

“of course, right, sorry. come in.” you said and moved out of the way to step inside your girly apartment. you went to your coffee table to grab the remote and turn the volume down a little on your tv. 

“the restroom is-,” you start to say and go towards it until he cuts you off. 

“i know where it is. i’ll be done in a bit,” he said coldly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. he renovated these apartments dumbass. 

“alright.” you said and let him go to the back hall to find the restroom, and you released a breath. 

you felt like you looked messy, you just got out of the shower and had no bra on, and didn’t have panties on either. you were embarrassed. 

it was a free night for you and he had to barge in. of course. you decided to grab your wine and sit down on the couch, eyeing the blunt wishing you could be smoking it right now. instead you sip on your wine and scroll on your phone for maybe thirty minutes until he calls out for you. 

“coming!” you replied a little too cheery, and walked to the back rooms to see him on his hands and knees trying to reach under the toilet with his tools sprawled out on your pink bath rug. 

joel tried to hide the smile that grew when he heard your eager voice.

“yeah?” you asked and blushed at his image. he looked so sexy with his eyebrows furrowed, even sexier looking so manly in such a pink room. His dark colored clothes made an exciting difference in your bathroom. 

joel quickly scaled you over, from your bare feet with black toenails up to your week old shaven legs, up your wide thighs, to the fat of your tummy and the curves of your breasts. 

“you think i can have me a water bottle?” he asked, and you smiled, completely unaware he was thinking of bending you over the sink and making you watch yourself take all of him.

joel had a teensy crush on you the second he saw you at his doorstep. 

you mustered up the strength to knock on two doors to be greeted by two elderly ladies, and introduce yourself as their neighbors while giving them cookies you baked for them. 

you figured it was the best way to gain their trust and familiarity as you were going to be living here for a while. and while it worked on them, you weren’t so sure about your last neighbor. you were nervous. you hated socializing and to introduce yourself as the new person in the area, but the last door you knocked on was one that truly ruined your day. 

the door swung open ferociously to present a tall broad figure with tan skin, eyes tired and hair all ruffled. you could tell he just woke up, and you instantly regretted it. the force of the door opening made you feel a gust of wind, and chills. 

you were taught it was common courtesy to introduce yourself when you’re new somewhere, though it didn’t seem he was happy to see you at his doorstep all cheery and energized.

“uh, hi, i’m your neighbor in 6C, i just moved in and i just wanted to introduce myself,” you said and told him your name, with a small smile. he kind of just looked at you blankly, adjusting his eyes to your figure and face. 

“i, uh i made cookies for everyone so, i thought i’d bring them by cus i just like to bake and i thought maybe it’d be a peace offering... it’s okay if not i just wanted to be nice,” you rambled looking into his brown eyes as you held the plate covered in foil out with your hands. he looked between the plate, you and next to him to look at the clock on his doorway table.  

you were nervous, tapping your fingers on the plate and biting the inside of your cheek. he was so handsome. so manly. 

“you’re knockin at my door at eight thirty in the morning ona saturday to give me some cookies?” he asked, making sure what was happening was real. it was a little comical to him, only seeing shit like this in the movies. but to him, you were cute. he knew he didn’t carry southern hospitality and kindness like most, like you.

“you don’t have to take them. just tryna be nice,” you mumbled and pulled your arms back, your texan accent almost as thick as his. 

“Mmhmm, well i don’t need no cookies this mornin’,” he said surely. it kind of pissed you off honestly. 

“forget about it,” you said and turned your head down, moving to the door next to his and opening it right before mumbling, “asshole,” and slamming your door shut.

you were just so cute, so lively that he was drawn to you. it was odd because joel’s taste in women usually ranged, but he’d never been so drawn to a woman who seemed so eager to take on the world everyday. joel wasn’t used to seeing people so happy to leave the comfort of their homes to go into the city and interact with people, he wasn’t used to people making small talk as you fetch the mail at the same time. but that was you. 

he would just shake you off, mumble words to get you to stop being so cheerful and kind. he didn’t want you to waste your time on him, he didn’t deserve your kindness. you heard the small comments. 

“so damn pink,” 

“ya have to hum all the way down four flights of stairs?”

“you ever not dressed in glitter and ponies?” 

which he over exaggerated, you just liked pink. you would ignore the mean comments, and you would force yourself to remember that he is a man of cutting down trees and building houses with his bare hands. whatever you think is manly, he is. he wore nothing but dark colors, denim, work boots, and still had the iphone eight which seemed like it was forced on him. 

but this is the first time he spoke to you remotely nice, and asked you for anything. 

“yeah, uh do you want like, ice or just room temp?” you asked a bit embarrassed, wondering if that was a dumb question to ask. and a small, very small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but it was so slight you almost gaslit yourself into seeing it. 

“don’t matter sweetheart, whatever ya wanna get me,” he said and went back to doing whatever it was he was doing. 

your tummy just fluttered at the small pet name as you pushed yourself off the door frame and moved to the kitchen.

never did you ever think you would hear a word like that come out of his mouth when referring to you.

you grabbed a water bottle and grabbed some ice chips with a scoop to pour it into a tall thermos. you took it straight to joel, and he faced you as you leaned down a bit to hand him the cup. from your stance, he could practically see down your shirt but only stole a small glance. 

you couldn’t notice, you were just excited to do something nice for him. 

“you need anything else?” you asked with your hands behind your back, your chest poking out a bit more and the light made it easy to see your nipples against the cloth. 

“nah, i got all i need, you can go relax.” he said and went back to work as you walked off. 

you wondered if there was a softness to his voice as you sat back down on the couch, turning your music up a little bit but not loud enough to get bitched at by joel. you figured he’d might be here for a bit given his outbursts of cursing because something wasn’t working with him, so you grabbed your blunt and lit it again. this was your apartment. 

joel was frustrated enough from the stupid toilet. a bolt kept untightening every time he tried to flush, and it pissed him off enough but kept him busy as he smelled the scent of strong weed filling his nose. he knew he smelled it when he walked in, but now he can smell the smoke and hear your muffled coughs every once and a while.

he was actually a bit surprised, for some reason you didn’t seem like the type to partake. he knows in his days he did, so he wasn’t judging you at all, it just didn’t seem like something a girl like you would do. you seemed so… behaved.

he ended up managing to find the bolt he was looking for because it fell somewhere and skidded across the restroom floor. 

joel didn’t mind working on things for the neighbors in his complex, he was really the only one that was able to fix almost everything in sight. he was never bothered by it either, in the back of his mind he wanted to feel like he was needed. like he could do some type of good for people even if he was closed off and cold. his hands were godsend, and in many ways. 

but he’d always see things maybe the resident wouldn’t want him to see, like a box of condoms or a sex toy. it didn’t bother him, he’d just ignore it.

but here he was, still and frozen as he finally found the bolt laying on a pair of red panties that were laid on your floor like you just had these on. and you did. 

you managed to get all of your clothes in the hamper except the pair of panties you had on, you actually thought maybe it was in the tangles of your clothes. but no. there they were, and he was on his way to losing his mind. he couldn’t move, he just stared at the red high cut panties that even had a black bow on the trim. 

he couldn’t stop himself. before he knew it, he grabbed your underwear and almost inspected them quickly before taking them, pushing the fabric into his nose and breathing in your musk, and folding them to put in his back pocket. he felt drunk on you already. he knew it was wrong, he knew he was probably a sick man. but he needed something from you, anything. 

the opportunity showed itself, he just took it. 

now, he still smelled you lingering on his nose, and imagined what your pussy looked like puffy and red for him. he wanted to fill you up completely and fuck you until you were sore and throbbing, he wanted to see those cute little glossy lips of yours kissing the tip of his cock and taking it in your throat like a fleshlight. 

you were just perfect. so much for him to grab, kiss, and mark. he wanted your eyes to watch him devour you whole, and he craved to watch you break for him.

he knew he was a creep. he didn’t care. joel never acted on his desires and his pervy ways, until now, when really he wanted to do it all. whenever you came out to the mailboxes the same time as he did, he wanted to get his phone and sneak pictures of you, under your skirts more specifically. 

he was thinking of if you’ve ever fucked yourself here in this very restroom he’s crouched in, thinking of the way your leg would lift to rest on some vantage point, fingering your hole until you fought to stand upright again. he imagined you walking in a little white towel back to your room, drying off and getting dressed in front of him. his cock was throbbing at the image, pairing it with the image of the red panties he stole. 

he couldn’t work like this, not thinking of all of the ways he wanted to make you whine, make you squirm, make you cum. 

he finally managed to fix the problem after 30 minutes and flushing once to test, smiling at his success. it was always satisfying seeing something broken be fixed, he was a problem solver, he loved the challenge. he cleaned up his area and picked up his tools, putting them in the bag and fixing himself before he washed his hands and wiped them down with a towel, leaving the restroom to see you puffing a small roach of your blunt. 

“y’know you shouldn’t be smokin in here,” he said and you jumped a bit, exhaling the last bit of smoke and ashing it out in your ashtray. you just looked at him with a small smile, but realizing this is your apartment. he can’t tell you what to do. 

“oh, well i mean, i thought… i mean it’s my apartment, so,” you said as you blushed, feeling like you’re in trouble now. 

“don’t worry yourself, darlin’. i ain’t gonna tell on you,” he suggested and you blushed, somehow even more. 

“would you want like, a drink? the least i can do,” you said as you grabbed a dos equis from your fridge and walked up to him, handing it to him. he was hesitant at first, really in deep thought about whether he should accept this or not. was it opening a door? he hoped so. 

“thanks,” he said and took it from you, not looking at the green bottle at all. he put his tools down on the small table you had in your kitchen and followed you to sit on the loveseat on the right side of the living room. 

“it’s joel by the way, no one calls me mr. miller,” he said as he took a swig. you nodded and responded ohh, moving to drink more of your wine. you ended up changing your music to a horror movie and kept your eyes trained on that instead of his eyes. you felt him watching you, every breath you took, every blink, every lip bite. 

“so who lived here before me?” you asked to break the silence, looking to him from the movie. his eyes were already on you, you just met them. you figured you’d make some sort of conversation if he was going to sit there and drink a beer. who drinks together silently? 

“nother’ older lady, she was a good neighbor,” he trailed and drank from his beer. you quirked your eyebrows, drinking from the wine glass and keeping it by your side. 

“am i not a good neighbor?” you asked sweetly, genuinely curious. he refrained himself from getting up from his seat and showing how good of a neighbor you really were to him. 

“you are, just a little loud from time to time.” he admitted, more so talking about your unsatisfying experiences with the men you bring him. 

“am i? i’m sorry, i’ll try to keep it down,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and you looked at your fingers tapping on the rim of the wine glass. 

“s’alright, it ain’t too distracting.” he lied. of course it was distracting. he was begging to know what you sounded like when you were really enjoying yourself, how you looked under him and on top of him. how he imagined you in his room instead. 

“still, i don’t wanna be that neighbor that’s annoying,” you said and looked back up at him to where he’s sitting. “i feel like you hate me.” you finished. 

he doesn't blame you. he doesn't make it easy for people to know him, or make a nice impression firsthand. he kind of feels bad for making you feel like that. but he was just not that friendly honestly, not that nice and not that comforting. at least he felt he was. he didn’t know how to be. 

“it’s nothin’ personal,” he said and drank from his bottle again, letting his eyes trail over your body. you felt it, hell you saw it, and you still squirmed. 

“i prefer to be by myself.” he said and you nodded, but he was still watching you. 

“i see. i understand now, sorry for imposing most of the time.” you say with an apologetic smile, and he kind of smiled. it shocked you really to see any emotion other than anger and discomfort displayed on his face.

“you don’t bother me, not one bit.” he said to reassure you, but he wanted you to know you did far more than “bothering” him. you just smiled, blushing a bit at his confession.

“so is it just you living here?” you asked and saw his face look a little pained, and again you regret opening your mouth. 

“uh, no actually. i have a sixteen year old i sort of adopted. just me and my daughter.” he said and you were a little shocked. how did you never manage to see her? or hear her?

“she goes on her own a lot, friends places, parties. i know she can handle herself so, she has my number if anything happens.” he answered your internal questions. 

“that’s really sweet. i wished my parents did that. i kind of had to move away from them’ after i graduated. m’ not really on speaking’ terms with any of my family.” you admitted a little sadly, even though he didn’t ask.  you seemed as though you could talk for hours if no one shut you up. 

“i’m sorry to hear that,darlin’,” he said and continued to drink his beer until he finished it. 

“it’s fine, i’m a lot happier now than i was before.” you said with a small smile, and drank from your wine glass. joel was glad you took the attention off of him and his daughter, not asking any questions about his situation. he appreciated it. 

he just nodded, finishing his beer as you finished your wine and suddenly you were nervous. again. it was just you and him, in this colorfully lit room. you looked at him as he got up, and walked to the kitchen to grab his tools. no no wait wait you can’t leave, not yet. 

“thank ya for the hospitality, i should go,” he said coldly and you almost scrambled to your feet to step in front of him. 

“um, wait uh,” you tried to think of an excuse. anything. something to keep him here a little longer. he looked down at you, how flustered you were, how you looked like you were trying to come up with an excuse. you really even didn’t think it through, you were just acting on the pulsing in your shorts.

but suddenly, you got a bit insecure. you didn’t know joel’s type, and you wondered what the outcome would be of throwing yourself at him. 

“yeah?” he asked and tilted his head, curious as to what you had to say. truth is, he didn’t wanna leave either. how could he wanna leave when you looked so desirable right now? he couldn’t even feel bad that he was practically 20 years older than you, he wanted to ruin you. 

“um, nothing, m’ sorry.” you said. you admitted defeat. there was nothing you could’ve said or done to make him stay, at least that's what you thought. 

“have a good night,” you said and he repeated it to you. you walked him out, shutting the door behind him. 

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joel was still awake after his shower. not by choice. he was laying in his bed, checking the time on his clock that flashes at 2:30am, and back at the wall that connects the two of you. were you seriously this unaware at how loud you were? 

he was thanking god that ellie wasn’t home, so she wouldn’t be hearing any of this either. but he was also wondering if you were even enjoying yourself in the first place. 

after joel left, you felt this aching feeling that you couldn’t satisfy yourself so you just called a friend over. one that you really don’t know, and you don’t care about, but one that wanted to have sex with you just as bad as you wanted to have sex with joel. 

one thing led to another and there you are once again, laying in bed as this guy poorly ate you out and uncomfortably fingered you. it just didn’t feel right, and at this point you were hoping he was done. your fake moans rang through the apartment again, wondering if you were over or under selling it. to the lanky guy between your legs, you were selling it just fine. 

you even tried thinking of joel being the one sliding into you as this guy did, but you doubted he'd be this painfully terrible at sex. it didn’t feel enjoyable, it just felt like blindly jabbing at your cervix. not even 10 minutes later, that man is out your door and you're back in bed, feeling miserable with yourself. 

you wanted for once to have a good sexual encounter, constantly feeling ugly and used. these men didn’t even care about you and didn’t care if you were satisfied, and you hated yourself for it. the physical intimacy you wanted seemed like it was something you wouldn’t be able to find. 

you craved a man’s touch even if you hated it or not, maybe blaming it on your daddy issues or just blaming the fact that you looked for the wrong things in the wrong thing. you wanted comfort and protection and looked for it in sex. 

you wanted joel. you wanted him since you moved in despite him being a dick. you wanted to know how it felt to be protected by him, to be held by him, to be wanted by him. and you wanted it so bad, you started crying. loudly, at that. 

in the moment, joel felt like he was imposing on your privacy. he felt bad listening to your muffled cries like this, and he wanted to do everything he could to help you. he knew so little about your family situation, but to him you had no family. he never saw you with friends, he only saw you with a new man every week. he wanted to comfort you, to show you that he and you were more alike than you thought.

he heard it stop for about twenty minutes all of the sudden, and then something bump into the wall he was staring at. then, it started again.  

you just laid there after your shower, now softly crying and sniffling as you heard a soft knocking on your front door. you got a little scared, so you wiped your tears fast and slipped on the shorts you had on to go open your door. it was dark in the main room, only a small orange lighting shining in front of your windows. you even noticed finally that it was actually pouring rain outside.

“who is it?” you said a little loudly, too nervous to peek through the hole. you fiddled with your polished black nails before the person answered. 

“it’s joel,” he said and you paused. 

“joel?” you asked. 

 you quickly unlocked your door to open it enough to peek your head out. 

“what are you doing here?” you asked, looking up at him. you scanned over his attire, now barefoot and in a simple black shirt and pajama pants. his head was whipping right and left, seeing if anyone else was in the hall to see him. 

now, he was the one that was nervous. what was he doing here? what did he think was going to happen? if he played it right, everything he ever wanted. 

“can i come in?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck and you gulp, opening the door wider to allow his broad figure in your home. your eyes were trained down, refusing to let him look at you. 

“can i get you something? water?” you asked, still not facing him and turning a lamp on next to your couch and moving past him until he grabs your wrist firmly. you still, and you have no choice but to look at him with your bloodshot eyes. 

“i can hear, y’know,” he said, paying attention to your tear stained face as you slowly looked up to him. 

“hear? hear what?” you said unknowingly. 

“everything. i can hear the guys you bring home, i can hear you moanin’, i can hear you cryin’,” he said, pulling you closer to him. by now you were almost to his chest as he grabbed your other wrist and held you tight. 

“i-,” you began but you felt humiliated. you didn’t realize he could really hear everything, that he heard everything that transpired in your room tonight. 

“did he make you cry?” he asked grimly, his eyes dark and his stare serious.

he wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, your breath just caught in your throat because you were nervous. nervous to admit to anything. 

“no, he didn’t, he didn’t do anything to me,” you said and looked down at his hands gripping your flesh. 

“it doesn’t matter. i’m just really sorry, i didn’t know that’s what you meant earlier. i’m sorry it won’t happen again.” you apologized with tears in your eyes. the guy who you fucked wasn’t even worth all of this embarrassment that flooded you. 

“then why’re you cryin, sweet girl?” he asked, moving his hand to your chin so you can look up at him. 

“i, it’s nothing, i’m sorry for waking you up,” you said and blinked your tears away, your hands falling to your side when he released you. you just stood there though, his hand on your cheek while his thumb rubbed circles into your face. 

“it ain’t nothin. he wasn’t makin’ you feel good? made you feel bad?” his southern accent was thick in this tone, but for some reason you felt at ease. better now that he was here. 

“he made me feel bad,” you were too nervous to lie, he already heard you through the wall. 

“i know, baby, i know,” he said. you really couldn’t move, the words coming from his mouth were insane to you. you couldn’t fathom the fact that he was talking like this, to you. his hands slid to grip your hips, to feel the way they curve into your waist, resting at the small of your back so that now you’re pressed against his body. 

“i never hated ya,” he said, his face getting closer to yours to where you could feel his breath on your lips. while your breathing was faltered and shaky, his was calm and collected. he wasn’t nervous anymore, he was determined. 

“actually, i think i like you more than i’d like t’ admit,” he whispered, moving his lips to your ear and your neck. 

“what are you talkin’ about?” you breathed. your arms just went slack, you didn’t know what to do with them, if you should finally touch him and feel his hard chest, feel his body the way he feels yours, or if you just want to accept that this is a dream. 

you finally move your hands to his waist and grip tightly onto his shirt, almost like if you let go you’ll fall. 

“i know you feel the same, darlin’. i can hear you, remember? i can hear you callin’ for me, moanin’ for me when you touch yourself.” your breath shook slightly and he smiled against your neck, moving his hands up your back. 

and the only thing you can say, that your brain can think of, is to apologize. 

“none of that, don’t do that. tell me sweetheart, do ya want me to make you feel good?” he asked, and you pulled his body closer to yours. 

“do, um, do you want to do that?” you were so unsure of all this. did he truly like you? did he truly find you attractive? you never failed to question men’s sincerity, was this just for pleasure or was this emotional? 

“my sweet baby, if i ever say no to you like that, i’ve gone fuckin’ senile,” he groaned against your neck. 

“y’know how many times i've thought about being between these legs of yours?” there was nothing else that could’ve made you as wet as you were right now, you heard the roughness of his texas accent, the lust mixing with desire. he wanted nothing but you. 

“been wantin’ t’ ruin those little skirts you wear. jus’ wanna watch you fall apart on my cock,” your eyes widened and you felt a pool of arousal coat your cunt. you’d never been talked to like this, the crudeness of his words sliced whatever tension there was, and you gave in.

his lips moved down your neck and to your chest as you pant against him, your body pressed into a wall near the hallway that leads to your bedroom and restroom. he pressed against you enough so you could feel the hardening bulge on your thigh and he could feel the softness of your breasts pushed into him. while kissing your neck and shoulder, he moved your hand to feel his hardness while grunting a bit into your skin. 

“you feel what ya do to me? you see how i get for ya?” he asked, and you whimpered a bit feeling how large he really was through his pajama pants. he pulled away from you a bit and looked down at his hand on top of yours, your own hand voluntarily softly massaging his cock. 

“fuck, sweetheart, you know,” he cooed, smoothing your hair down and grabbing the nape of your neck to crane it back, “you know exactly what that pretty face does to me,” 

he tilted your head to look at him, to be close enough to his face to feel his breath on your face. 

“tell me you want me, honey,” he said sweetly, looking between your eyes and your lips. you just kept your eyes on his while he examined you. 

“i, i want you,” you said in a whisper and blushed. joel smiled to himself, another smile you’d never seen, and slid down against your body and grabbed the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and instinctively you did. 

only he made you forget you were three times the size of a skinny woman. 

“joel, wait i’m too heavy for this wait,” you said but he stayed put, didn’t move, didn’t talk. he just stared at you. 

“ain’t no such thing as too heavy, princess, i’ll still pick you up and fuck you stupid,” he assured, playfully tapping your ass as he carried you all the way to your room, laying you on your back. you swore he could feel the pulsing of your cunt against his abdomen. 

he brought you to your room, dark and quiet with the help of your small lamp illuminating your face as he laid you down on your back, falling with you. 

“gonna let me see you, baby? let me see all of this,” he said lowly, crawling to straddle you and put his hands on your tummy, groping and massaging. 

“i-,” you said, out of breath already and joel smirked. he was loving you like this. so dumb and innocent for him. 

“you’re jus’ the sweetest little thing, baby,” he said as his eyes roamed your body. “gotta use your words, baby, let me hear that pretty voice, tell me what you want,” he said again. 

“touch me, anywhere, p-please,” you whimpered out enough and he hummed in satisfaction. 

his fingers creeped up your stomach, leaving a burn with their trail and acted like he was going to help you out of it, but instead he bends down and grips the center of your tank top with two hands and careful to not hurt you, but fast and swift, he rips the weak cloth in half. 

“what, joel oh-” you said and joel’s fingers wrapped around your throat with no pressure, and held you in place as his eyes trailed over your body again, his other hand roughly moved the two halves of your tank to either side. 

“what did he do that you didn’t like, baby?” he asked you as he stayed on top, playing with your breasts by squeezing and pushing them together, only thinking impurely about you. 

you couldn’t think of anything as he felt you up as he pleased, his calloused hands rubbing your smooth skin, tugging and pinching your nipples to watch them harden and extend just for him. 

“just,” 

“he, ugh,” 

he laughs. “can’t even talk while i play with these pretty titties? goin’ dumb already baby?” 

“mmmph,” you couldn’t muster any words. it was a new feeling, feeling lightheaded and only drunk off of joel. 

“please, fuck me,” you whimpered, moving your hands to play with his waistband and try to tug at it. but he stopped you quickly, never letting you even grab a hold of the fabric when he grabs your wrists. 

“need you to tell me exactly what you want, can you do that?” he asked you and you whined, squirming with his hands still locking you in place. 

you looked up at him, his eyes only on yours and his cock straining against his pajama pants. “fingers,” 

it’s all you mustered and he accepted it, moving down a little to move his fingers down into your panties and spreading your legs with his. his fingers immediately felt heat when he spread your cunt and moved down to your hole, teasing and prodding in your arousal. 

“baby’s so wet for me, yeah? you ever thought about me, honey?” he asked you as he looked between you and where his fingers hid in your shorts, waiting for an answer. you were a whimpering mess, soft breaths and pants falling from your lips with every touch. 

“mhm,” you mustered, clenching your eyes shut when his middle finger circled your hole and pushed his palm against your clit, “always wanted you,” 

if you weren’t so dizzy, you probably would’ve scorned yourself for saying that. but he was amused, moving his scruffy cheek to glide against yours and leave kissing on your neck. 

“thought about you too, pretty girl. just so damn cute all the fuckin’ time, couldn’t stop thinkin’ about how you’d look taking my cock,” you whined at his words, trying to shut your legs to stop the pressure but he just shook his head and pried them apart. your hands were tight on his wrist, begging him to let up as he fucks you with two fingers and uses your slick to rub circles over your clit. 

“r-really?” you asked through choked moans, your body lifting up to watch him finger you. he chuckled softly, “yeah, sweetheart. can’t stop thinkin’ about ya,” 

he pauses before taking your shorts and panties off quickly, spreading your legs further and throwing them over his own spread thighs you went back to gripping at your sheets, your body responding to every touch as he spread your cunt even more and spit on it. 

“you want me to fuck this pretty hole, baby?” he asked, watching your slick cover his hand as he curled his fingers inside of you. you were a mess, incoherent, making sounds and guttural noises as he brought you closer to your edge. all you could do was nod erratically and try to close your legs. 

“i’m gonna need you to cum for me then, sweetheart. needa’ see this little cunt cum for me,” he growled, his other hand pulling his pajama pants down, easily taking them off. 

“i, i-,” you choked, your chest tight as you watched him abuse your pussy and watched as his eyes flashed quickly. he managed to lift your lower half up in the air by your ass cheeks, bringing your core to his mouth and pulling you closer to him so he could taste you. 

“daddy,” you moaned as he pulled away with a harsh breath. 

“‘s that right? that’s what you like, baby? want daddy to make you feel real good? go fuckin’ stupid on my cock?” he taunted, his words making your stomach flutter and your clit throb. 

you whimpered a small yes, but you couldn’t think. you’d say yes to anything he offered. you’d take anything he gave you. he didn’t even have to ask, you wanted him to give you anything he wanted. he went back to lapping at your cunt, slurping up any of your juices that ran down your crack, licking at your unused hole that puckered for him. 

it was a new feeling, something no one had done but the way he lapped at both holes made your orgasm build ten times faster, and soon you felt it creeping down your shoulders and sending a cold chill down to your toes. it was blinding, the noises you made were yelps and gasps as if the air had been knocked out of you. 

your entire body shook within his grasp and his mouth never let go of your overstimulated bud, sending more of your juices to leak out of you nonstop. joel wasted no time to lick you all up and manage to strip naked, watching your body go through aftershocks of your orgasm and smiling. 

“pretty girl, such a fuckin’ pretty girl,” he cooed, crawling between your legs again and grabbing you by your waist, flipping you onto tour tummy and chest as he helps you move to steady yourself on your knees. 

“you’d let me do whatever i want to ya, ain’t that right princess?” his voice was like velvet, making you feel warm all over as you pushed your ass into his groin. you whimpered as you felt his hardness against your cunt and you wiggled your hips, making joel laugh a little and slap your ass. 

“so eager too, huh?” all you could do was nod into the pillow, using your forearms to fold under it and hold your head up. the arch in your back was exaggerated, but you wanted him to be able to get the best leverage on you. 

he gripped your hips tight like you were going to leave him, and spread your asscheeks to see both holes shining for him. 

“tell me you want me, can you do that for me?” he asked condescendingly and you hummed, drunk off him grabbing your ass to pull your cheeks apart and watch as they jiggle. 

“i want you,” you muffled, your voice not sounding recognizable. it was hoarse, from moaning and crying and was about to get even more raspy. 

“good girl, you tell me if you want me to stop yeah?” 

“no! please,” you clung onto whatever he was giving you, “i want it, all of it, please,” you cried for him. 

he spits down on your asshole and watches it slip down to your cunt, and he positioned himself at your hole as he keeps your ass spread apart for him. 

“so fuckin’ messy, such a sweet cunt for me,” he moaned as he pushed the head of his cock inside, making you whimper at the small stretch. you didn’t think he could stretch you anymore, until he sunk deeper into your hole and made you start gasping for air. 

“what baby? is it too much? can’t take daddy’s cock?” he taunted behind you as your weak arms went from under the pillow to trying to push his thighs back. unfortunately with your strength, it was no use and only gave him incentive to pin both your arms behind your back, right where your back arched. 

you could feel your drool leaking onto the pillow as he slid slowly into you, not stopping until you felt his balls hit against your cunt. your legs were already trembling from his sheer size, making joel put one hand on the fat of your hip to steady you and one hand on your wrists. 

he started to pull out again, just to slide back in and repeat the movement as he slowly started to speed up the pace. you could hear faint groaning and the sound of your slick gathering on his cock, the wetness being the only noise that was distinct. 

it was pain and pleasure balled into one as he kept gliding in and out of you, feeling your walls tighten and release around him the faster he went. you felt each thrust make your body lurch forward, pushing your face into the pillow as he kept his relentlessness up. 

“oh, baby you feel so fuckin’ good, so good for me,” he groaned. he grabbed both your wrists with his hands and yanked your body up off the mattress so that your breasts are exposed for him. he takes advantage of the space between you and bed, and pulls you even further up to press you against his chest. 

“keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me, makes me wanna ruin this little pussy even more,” he grinned against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you threw your arms back to grab onto his hair and head. you needed something to balance yourself now that you were standing on your knees, and being fucked into like you weighed absolutely nothing. 

“d-, fuck, i can’t,” you choked through a loud moan, one that made joel grunt as he fucked into you harder. he wasn’t doing small strokes, he was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back into you in a way that sent pain to your cervix, but pressure on your clit begging to be released. 

“can’t what princess? can’t think? i know baby, gettin’ fucked so good you can’t even talk,” he chuckled, moving his hand to grab at your breast and knead your flesh. his hands molded onto your body like they were made to fit you, but all your mind could focus on was the sound of his skin slapping against yours. 

joel knew you were going dumb already, not expecting answers from you as that would just be cruel. he wanted to make you feel good, and the way your spit covered your chin and your mouth fell open but hardly any noise was making its way out, he knew he was doing a damn good job. 

“hear that, baby? such a fuckin’ pretty mess, you like soakin’ my cock like that? so damn wet, so fuckin’ tight,” you couldn’t get enough of his words when he plucked at your nipple, teasing and pinching to get you closer and closer. 

“s-so big, m’ so full,” you cried and he smiled again, holding you closer than ever as he wallowed in your voice. 

“my baby’s full of me, full of my cock,” he repeated, never slowing down as he pulled out just to push all of him back into you at once. he was in love with how you felt, he even felt like he was losing his train of thought at you let out deep moans that made his cock jerk inside of you. 

“‘s okay baby, you look so cute all fucked out like this, can’t even fuckin’ breathe can ya?” he asked and you shook your head no, reminding yourself to unclench your chest so you could let in a good breath. he heard it, and rubbed up your chest to grip your throat, which elicited a harsh whimper. 

his other hand traveled down your body, past your larger stomach and reached down to your cunt. he used the slick between your lips after stuffing them in your mouth and started to rub circles over your nub, making you squirm and wiggle against his body. 

“uhn-uh, thought you liked takin’ my cock like a slut? take it, baby.” you couldn’t even move if you wanted to, wanting to fuck back on his cock and meet his thrusts. you were almost empty headed, words sounding like words but not being able to form them yourself. 

“there you go, take it all baby it’s yours,” he repeated as he watched you grab onto his arm that held you by the neck and let him ravage you like no other. he was the animal, and you were his prey. 

the feeling of his thick cock ramming you, splitting you open while he fingers worked your clit makes you throw your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes strongly. it was blinding, the pleasure you felt that he inflicted, and you felt yourself clenching your entire body as your orgasm reached its peak. it’s all you focused on. his hands grabbing you everywhere, soaking you in as he pushed your thick body into his chest and managed to lay on his back. he let our body fall onto his and held you up like that, his hands spreading your legs as you tried to sit up on your hands. 

you couldn’t, of course, couldn’t even think about how he changed positions so quickly, or if you were too heavy for him. your body was limp as he held you open, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster as he fucked into you. 

“m gonna, j-joel, gonna cum, gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you chanted in a strained whine, one that sounded needy for him. one of his hands lets go of your leg and rests his palm on your forehead, pulling you back to his shoulder so he can kiss along your jaw and neck. 

“cum for me baby, such a dumb fuckin' slut, taking my cock like you were made f’ it,” he was so insulting, so degrading, but the feeling of losing your autonomy so he can fuck you like you deserved made it even sexier for you. you didn’t know your neighbor felt this way for you, that he’d been wanting to feel you and have you like this. it was exhilarating and when you finally let go, when the ringing in your ears started and every muscle in your body tightened just to go slack again, you realized how much you’d been missing. 

you’d never been fucked to the point of silence, nothing but quiet moans and strained breathing falling out of your lips because you couldn’t think, and as joel holds you by wrapping an arm around the thickness of your tummy and letting you close your legs to alleviate the intensity, he whispers nothing but dirty things in your ear. the shaking never stopped, even as joel started to reach his peak. 

“such a pretty girl,”

“love watchin’ you go dumb on my cock,” 

“gonna fill this cunt with my cum, ya want that sweetheart?”

“can’t even talk, such a dirty fuckin’ whore,”

you were mumbling, blabbering, making noises that couldn’t even be registered as noises as his hips slammed against your ass lazily. you feel it the minute he empties inside of you because he holds you even closer than before, stilling your moving hips and you feel the heat of the white ropes that cover your walls. it was so dirty, so messy, so filthy that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were embarrassed after this. you were still mindlessly groaning, humming as your orgasm buzzed through your body and the feeling of his cum trying to push its way out. 

you both lay there, breathless, sticky and with joel still buried inside of you.

“i have… i have to get off,” you breathed out, coming back to the sense of reality. the air in your room felt cold, pricking at your skin like needles. the sweat didn’t help either. 

“no ya don’t,” he said, only to hold you tighter. 

“joel, i’m like crushing you,” you tried to wiggle out of his grasp and he just gave a quick slap to your cunt, making you jolt and still. 

“don’t be ridiculous, ya need me to show you exactly how strong i am or are ya gonna take my word for it?” he warned and you swallowed, blinking at the ceiling before you turn your head to look at the side of his face before he turns his head to look at you. still, the back of your head rested on his shoulder and your legs were between his.

“i can’t even move, joel,” you said in a smile and he laughed, leaning in to kiss your forehead and over your face. 

“i’ll help ya with that.” 

joel proved once again that he was strong enough to pick you up, because he carried you bridal style to the restroom and got a bath ready for you, joining in to help clean you up and massage your muscles. you were dazed, so entirely fucked out that you let him do whatever he needed to do with you to get you into bed. and he didn’t seem to mind, because after taking care of you he got to snuggle in the same bed he made you drool in. 

he let you cuddle into him all you wanted, wrapping your arms and legs around him to bury your face in the shirt he put on. even though it was your bedsheets and your body wash he used, he still smelled like joel. and it was all you needed, ironically the man you longed for to make you feel good was the man who stayed in 6a.

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once. Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped. Fit: What?! Mike: Together. Pac: Yeah, together. Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Here's Pac and Mike's entire kidnapping story, since the version Pac told during yesterday's Halloween event was incomplete (and pretty tame).

[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]

Pac: Mike, have you ever been robbed?

Mike: Yeah. Yeah, I think.

Pac: Oh yeah, we were kidnapped once.

Mike: Yeah, Pac and I, we were kidnapped.

Fit: What?!

Mike: Together.

Pac: Yeah, together.

Fit: You were kid- like actually? No joke, you were kidnapped?

Pac: [Pac and Mike cheer] Was so cool Fit, was so cool that day.

Mike: Pac almost got his finger shot.

Pac: Yeah, they almost shot in our van- actually, they shot near our van, right? But they missed it for a few inches.

Mike: So we had these shows called- I'm going to explain the whole history.

Pac: Here we go!

Mike: We have these shows called Tazercraft Party when we go all over the state of Brazil.

Fit: Yeah?

Mike: And once we are heading to this city, and it was like 3am. And we have to arrive there early to make our show, to prepare the scenery, to prepare the stage.

Fit: Oh, I see, yeah yeah.

Mike: And then we were like on this van, really late in the night, and then we heard a gunshot. And then a car just crossed in front of our van, stop at the van, and entered two guys armored with guns and with that- uh...

Pac: Wearing balaclavas, Fit! Wearing balaclavas.

Mike: Yeah yeah. And they said like, "Everyone stay quiet. I'm going to take you-"

Pac: [Interrupts him with rapid-fire Portuguese, imitating what the kidnappers said, and Mike joins in with him]

Fit: Wow.

Mike: And then they took us to like a really far away place on the road was really dark and the moon was shining like the sun. And then they told us to put the hands against our hats and just wait until they took all the baggage and luggage. They even took our shoes!

Pac: Yeah!

Mike: And I had this Smartwatch that I bought like one- two days ago. And it got stolen too. We lost everything! We lost everything. Our cell phones, our luggage. But it was in a really sketchy place. \

Pac: Yeah, in the middle of nowhere!

Mike: Yeah, it was literally in the middle of nowhere.

Pac: [Cheerfully] But yeah, Brazil is pretty cool, you know, you should come!

Fit: [Laughs] Oh god.

Mike: There's this famous streamer- there's this famous streamer that plays LoL that he didn't want to give his baggage, his luggage, to the bandits. And one of the bandits said to Pac, "Hold the locker," that he's going to shoot the locker up open.

Pac: Yeah, but it was like, a small locker you know, and he was just going to fire at my fingers, you know. And I completely lost my mind you know, like, "Hey, hey! You're- you're going to make me lose a finger! Don't do that!" And you know, I could smell the gunpowder from his gun because he just fired it.

Mike: This motherfcker. He didn't want to get the keys off his luggage. I hate him.

Pac: [Laughing] Yeah. At the end, I didn't lost the fingers, and you know- Brazil is the BEST. Fit, please come to Brazil! [Cheers]

Mike: Brazil Fit!

Pac: It's going to be alright, it's gonna be alright! Alright alright.

Fit: That's- that's probably the most casual retelling of a kidnapping story I've ever heard. That's insane.

Pac: We used to call this a "Lightling McQueen" kidnapping it because it was really fast. We were kidnapped for 2 - 3 hours you know. Not a long time. So it was a lighting McQueen kidnapping.

Mike: Yeah...

Fit: Oh, I see. So wait, hold on– I'm still stuck on this kidnapping story. So wait- how long ago did this happen?

Pac: Three years, Mike?

Mike: Three years? Three or four years.

Pac: Three or four years.

Fit: ...Wow, that's crazy.

Mike: Let's show one of our shows to Fit.

Pac: At the end Fit, at least for me, I always try to see the things from the bright side. So at least for me, I learned a lot from this day. I learned that like, you need to avoid robberies and you need to avoid bad guys and also gunshots. And I learned that you always need to... to stay sharp, you know? So that was actually pretty cool. And I have an amazing story to tell everyone! So at the end, it was like a win, at least for me. I would be kidnapped again, you know, if I wasn't- if somebody doesn't shot me, you know.

[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. 

[kostektyw]

Detco movies rated based on how much shit gets exploded / destroyed

The Time-Bombed Skyscraper - the whole premise is about blowing up stuff, but it's shame no trains got got, 7/10

The Fourteenth Target - it's just an underwater restaurant that is pretty out of the way from anything else and we have no prior attachment to. bonus for the helicopter crash, 5/10

The Last Wizard of the Century - an entire castle does get burned down, but it's no explosion, 6/10

Captured in Her Eyes - just some regular old murder, 0/10

Countdown to Heaven - truly a 9/11 movie. point detracted for leaving the second tower intact, 8/10

The Phantom of Baker Street - the entire thing takes place in VR, so it shouldn't even count, but no one even gets their brain blown up :( 0/10

Crossroad in the Ancient Capital - somehow nothing gets bombed or destroyed? Conan tries a little arson but is unsuccessful, -1/10

Magician of the Silver Sky - a plane gets somewhat mistreated, 2/10

Strategy Above the Depths - a whole damn ship sinks, it's all very dramatic, 9/10

The Private Eyes' Requiem - despite the constant threat of exploding people, barely anything gets exploded. half a point for Kid using a gun on some windows, 1.5/10

Jolly Roger in the Deep Azure - i guess they do find that ancient pirate ship and it immediately falls apart, 5/10

Full Score of Fear - plenty of shit gets blown up including a concert hall while no one inside realizes anything's wrong. you'd think they'd have some fire warning system in place, 10/10

The Raven Chaser - sadly no explosions, but the tower gets shot at hard, and the helicopter does not end up fine, tho no actual crash on screen, 5/10

The Lost Ship in the Sky - only a research facility we don't care about gets exploded in the opening, and that airship barely gets scratched up, 4/10

Quarter of Silence - we have a train exploding out of a tunnel, a dam blown to smithereens, and an avalanche, what more could you want, 10/10

The Eleventh Striker - who can say no to some exploding stadiums, great movie for people who hate football, 8/10

Private Eye in the Distant Sea - just a rando ship at the beginning, who cares, 1/10

Dimensional Sniper - some police cars and incredibly light bombing of the tower, eh, 3/10

Sunflowers of Inferno - a cool museum gets absolutely demolished, the burning fake sunflowers are a lovely image, plus we got some proper plane mistreatment, 10/10

The Darkest Nightmare - both an explosive car crash at the beginning and a ferris wheel gets extremely destroyed, 9/10

The Crimson Love Letter - lots of explosions, and in beautiful scenery too, 10/10

Zero the Enforcer - destroying shit with a satellite is pretty imaginative, but there was not as much destruction as i hoped, 7/10

The Fist of Blue Sapphire - they're surfing on some iconic Singaporean landmarks, meanwhile an oil ship freely wrecks shit, 11/10

The Scarlet Bullet - i fully admit i have no idea what Masumi and Conan were trying to do, both the train and station ended up looking pretty rough. 10/10

The Bride of Halloween - for a movie about bombs not all that much significant shit gets destroyed, but they do go out in style at least. bonus points for covering Shibuya in goo, 9/10

[vixensmart]

Duwang Gang Goes to Halloween Horror Nights

A/N:

Josuke Higashitaka

Josuke was so down to go with you. He thought it would be a fun little date night for you two. Though he'd never been to an event like this before, he thought it would be like an extreme Trick or Treat. Except instead of candy, you just get scared? He wasn't too sure what to expect.

The scare actors get him, but Josuke takes it in stride. He doesn't linger for too long after a scare. He just laughs it off with you. He seems to be having a lot of fun, despite his occasional yells and shrieks. If you get scared, he'll grab you and pull you in, telling you that he'll protect you from all the ghouls running around. He's taking the brunt of all the scares for you.

That being said, Josuke and you will alternate who goes first into the houses. He's not too picky about it. He'll have fun no matter what. The whole time, Josuke is cracking jokes about the scare actors and the scenery. Telling the creepy doll actress that he couldn't see her down there, or seeing a guy get his neck 'snapped' and saying that it's gonna be sore in the morning. By the time you leave the house, you're tearing up because he's made you laugh so hard. You're not even scared.

The food and the shows are also fun for Josuke. He's down to try whatever you want to try. He likes to sit down and eat or drink something during a show. It gives you time to relax and recharge before you get back to getting scared. You like to make a little 'game plan' of how you'll tackle the rest of the houses you want to go to after the show. If you just want to chill out, he's fine with that too.

You both are pretty tired when you get home. Most likely, you'll flop into bed and fall asleep pretty quickly, leaving your discussion about the night until the morning. Though you're exhausted, you've had a lot of fun, and Josuke is seriously considering asking you to go again next year.

Okuyasu Nijimura

Okuyasu. The ultimate yes-man. Okuyasu was excited to go with you, because he'd never been to such an event. They didn't have crazy Halloween events like this in Morioh. He thought it would be something new to check out. And what better way to check out something interesting than making it a date night?

The scare actors do get Okuyasu, more than he'd like to admit. One jumps out at him, and he shrieks. But then he turns around and sees you laughing. Why are you laughing? He almost died! That's no laughing matter! Until he comes to realize he's actually in no danger, and the scare actors aren't going to kill him. Then, he's laughing with you.

He's willing to go first into a couple houses. Okuyasu, though easily frightened, is really interested in the houses himself. He likes how realistic they are. He's amazed how it looks like you've just walked right onto the set of a horror movie. Of course, because he's not paying attention, he gets scared by someone jumping out at you, and he shrieks. After composing himself, he continues on, finding he's having more fun than he thought he would.

Okuyasu is captivated by the shows. All the effects and actors are dazzling and amazing to him. The stunts and dancing are impressive. He's wondering how they do it, but not so intently that he's missing the action. If its a comedy, he's laughing the whole time to the point where he's crying. He's having a great time, whatever you're doing.

The food is one of the highlights of your night. Okuyasu wants to try it all. It's not as amazing as Tonios, but he's enjoying it nonetheless. You might have to police him on his eating. He might eat too much and give himself a stomach ache, and that won't be pleasant to deal with.

When you go home, Okuyasu isn't tired. He rambles to you as you put your pajamas on about how amazing the night was, and if you can do it again next year. Better yet, he wants to make it a thing you do every year. You agree for the time being. Right now, you're a bit too exhausted to think about planning another trip. You end up falling asleep to his excited ramblings about the night.

Koichi Hirose

Koichi didn't really want to go with you. He didn't think he'd like getting scared and chased around in the dark, or going into cramped houses where you can barely see an inch in front of your face. But, he didn't have the heart to tell you no.

So you walk through the gates, and Koichi is immediately accosted by an aggressive zombie. It lunges at him and growls, and poor Koichi is terrified out of his mind. He grabs hold of you and refuses to let go of you for the rest of the night. You repeatedly tell him that he's not actually in any danger. The chainsaws aren't real, nothing at this event is, but Koichi's nerves don't subside.

You'll most likely be the one going first into the houses. Koichi would go first, but he has a habit of freezing and grabbing onto the nearest person (almost always you) when he gets scared. So, he might hold up the line, should he go first. Koichi is thankful that you're the brave one, heading straight into the chaos and taking every scare like a champ. If he could get his head out from being buried in your back, you might see hearts in his eyes.

Koichi would rather watch the shows and try the snacks at the event. He thinks the shows are cool and fun to watch, and the food is great, in his opinion. He enjoys the little moments where you get to sit down and chill out from a moment. It's a well-needed break from all the scares, and from standing around in a line for hours.

Once you arrive home, Koichi is still a bit of a wreck. He'll try to get ready for bed, but he keeps feeling like the horror isn't over. What if one of those scare actors followed him home, and they're waiting to get him when he's asleep? He'll knock on your door and ask to sleep with you, just so someone can make sure he's alive in the morning.

Rohan Kishibe

It was going to be a no. Note the use of the word, 'was'. Rohan was not interested in going to a large and crowded event where he would be harassed all night by grown adults in costumes. But, Rohan thought about it for a moment and had that thought he always has:

This could be some good inspiration for my manga.

Rohan is not phased by the actors jumping out at him. Those chainsaw-wielding maniacs can't even get him to flinch. He's scoffing at you the whole night, about how something so juvenile could scare you. When he's not scoffing at you, he's laughing at you. Yes, at you. Rohan will laugh at you when you inevitably get scared.

Though the houses are a little too cramped for Rohan's liking, he's not passing up the chance to get more inspiration. Like Okuyasu, he's impressed by the scenery. Everything looks so impeccably decorated and lit to resemble reality, he's almost a bit jealous. He's not paying attention to the scare actors jumping out at you. He's too busy noting every detail in his brain for future use. When he does notice the scare actors, he's taking so many notes about how realistic their wounds appear.

Rohan will sit through the shows and continue noting more inspiration that he deems appropriate. He's appreciative of the entertainment, but he's also impressed with the quality of the show and it's effects.

He'll try the food. He deems the items a bit too sugary or greasy for his taste. He'll have a bite of whatever you get, but that would be it. You try to encourage him to eat a little bit more, as you are walking around all night, but he declines. He feels eating too much of that crap might make him sluggish. And you wouldn't want your beloved Rohan to be too tired to accompany you for the rest of the night, would you?

By the end of the night, Rohan is a little tired, but he won't openly admit it. He'll get himself ready for bed and fall asleep rather quickly. If you want to talk about the night, best save it for the morning. It's not that he didn't have his fun, but, he's a little drained from the event. Once he wakes up in the morning, he'll indulge some conversation about the night.

[kyufessions]

Missing Person

synopsis: you’ve been happily dating your boyfriend, mark lee, for the past two years. but what happens when all of a sudden your best friend sends you a missing persons article and your boyfriend is listed as missing for the past three years?

pairings: boyfriend! mark lee x g.n. reader

genre: thriller/horror

warnings: blood, knives, killing, physical fighting

word count: 7.1k

a/n: in no way do i depict any member of nct like this, especially mark lee. i just wanted to write something dark for halloween so here we are. i had many ideas for this one but decided to make it shorter lmao. hope you enjoy ~

taglist: @joyumo @lovingvoidgoatee

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana

rain drops pelted the train window as you stared out into the setting sun, creamsicle skies mixing with a vital red that brought your nerves to a halt at the scenery behind the glass. normally you’d hate the summer rain, since it always seemed to ruin any plans you had, but being stuck inside this moving train with thirteen hours left with nothing to do but binge watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine reruns on Hulu and take occasional naps made you realize that maybe it wasn’t all too bad- maybe there was some beauty in things that you hated. with pink sweat$’s 17 playing at full volume in your airpods and a mug full of hot cocoa in both of your hands, you felt like you were in some romantic film. you know, the pretty individual staring out into the trees as they admire the fast-moving world outside all while the handsome stranger across the way from them is admiring their effortless beauty. and, truth be told, that’s what was happening. you just didn’t know until you saw someone sit across from you at the corner of your eye, making you turn your head to greet them and ask if you had bothered them in any way.

the handsome stranger smiled at you, making you smile back as you removed one of your earbuds from your ear to give him some of your attention. his blonde hair swooped over just above his eyebrows underneath his navy blue beanie that complimented his blue and white striped button-up, a white tank top underneath it. the way his smile brightened up his face made you feel comforted, almost like a warm hug. you watched as his frames fell down to the tip of his nose, making him scrunch up his nose in an attempt to bring them back up to their previous position.

a giggle escaped your lips as you watched him before speaking up. “hello, may i help you? did i bother you at all? i’m sorry if-“

he shook his head in disagreement, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “no no, you didn’t. you just seem pretty chill and i wanted to say hi, if that’s alright.”

for the rest of the ride, you both sat in those spots talking about everything yet nothing all at the same time. he told you all about how he was moving across the country due to getting an amazing job offer fresh out of college, and you exchanged your story as well with him as if you had known him for all your life. you told him about your family, your pets, and the reason for you moving across the country as well: transferring from a two year college to finish off your degree in psychology in a four year university. with each word that left your mouth, he listened with great intent.

and that’s what he did for your entire relationship. he always listened, always showed how much he cared, and never made you feel less than. even during his busiest days in the music studio where he co-wrote songs and even produced some days, he always found the time for you regardless of his schedule. and vice versa; with your busy college schedule and part time job you always made sure to make time for him as well. whether it be study dates where he helped you study for upcoming exams or texting him during work when you were able to sneak onto your phone for five seconds. your dorm mate even got so used to mark staying over that he ended up having designated days where he would spend some nights. but they never minded since he always brought over snacks and dinner for you all.

Mark Lee was a dream come true, a prince charming if you will. Everyone seemed to love being around him and having him in their life, whether it was the occasional meeting of a stranger in line to get coffee and he pays for your drink during the early morning rush or a friend that you kept close to you because he changed your life for the better. Everyday you were reminded of just how lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, even before you both made it official and made your switch from strangers, to friends, to partners. Mark as a partner was even better than you could’ve imagined: flowers and chocolates after a long hard day of exams or work, movie nights where he feeds you pepperoni pizza when you’re half asleep and halfway done with the movie you picked out for you both, little encouraging notes in your lunch bags, even offers you massages when you’re feeling stressed out from everyday life. He was the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend; you couldn’t ask for more or less from him.

On your one year anniversary, he even wrote you an entire song dedicated the past year and a half together, from when you first met on the train to your last special occasion spent together. He even made a small picnic for you both in his personal office space where he produced and wrote his music, accompanied with a woven wicker full of watermelon, two mini cakes baked from a local bakery you both frequented, along with champagne with tall glasses and other of your favorite foods. Alcohol entered your body as you listened to mark sing to you his song, a slow beat playing through the speakers and his fingers strumming on his acoustic guitar. his small raps cut you off guard but in the best way possible; you loved everything about his sweet gesture and felt yourself falling more deeply in love with him.

on your second year anniversary, he made you another song. but not only did he sing it to you, he sang it to you in front of others on the piano. he had rented out a restaurant for you both to enjoy endless meals for the night, dressed up in very fancy attire that you knew you’d only be able to wear a handful of times before growing out of it. an hour down and reminiscent memories being shared between you two, he randomly got up from his seat and walked down to the grand piano in the middle of the room. you watched him in confusion, your head cocked to the side as you asked him what he was doing. he just smiled at you lovingly as per usual, sitting down on the bench and cracking his knuckles quickly before he started singing along to the melody his fingers played. tears welled up in your eyes at the gesture, his words stinging beautifully as you listened to every confession. falling in love with mark was the easiest thing you had ever done.

two and a half years later here you both were, sharing an expensive loft in the city while working your dream jobs. all the while happily together without any pressure of future marriage or kids from family and friends. your life was perfect, utterly perfect. if anything it was more storybook, something only young kids dreamt of. a happy couple with well paying jobs living in a big city, accompanied with the presence of a five month old ragdoll kitten. everything seemed perfect.

today was just another morning, or so it seemed. only difference was you both were working from home today. mark had his own room to work in when he had to focus on his work while you worked in the bedroom or kitchen; you didn’t mind not having your own space since mark kept his distance when you were busy at work. on days when he worked as well, you both forgot about the existence of one another while you worked for a bit. but with being so secure in your relationship neither of you minded at all.

kissing his puffy morning cheeks, you rubbed your thumb along the stubble on his chin as the rising sun illuminated his soft facial features you never got tired of waking up next to. you watched as he scrunched up his nose lazily, fluttering his eyes open slowly to allow his eyes to gradually adjust to the bright rays. the chirping of birds were mere background noise to the tired chuckles your boyfriend let out as you attacked his face with wet kisses, causing a gleaming smile to spread across your lips.

his arms laid around your waist securely, bringing you closer into his bare chest. “good morning to you too.” he mumbled, his morning voice deep and somewhat raspy.

you pulled your lips from his cheek and down to his lips, pecking it a few times before pulling away and allowing your head to hit the pillow once again. “morning, handsome.”

he shuffled under the sheets, throwing his legs over the end of the bed and rising to his feet. you watched as he slipped on his glasses, adjusting them on his nose as he turned to look down at his partner. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight below him on the bed: you with your head in your hands, staring up at him admirably with a cheeky grin and your morning bed head sticking up in different directions. “pancakes for breakfast, my love?” he questioned as he leaned down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

the small gesture made your heart flutter immediately, causing your smile to grow wider. “yes please.” you responded, swinging your feet in the air dramatically.

he just ruffled your hair playfully before turning on his heels and leaving the room to start on the pancakes he just promised you. standing to your feet, you grabbed some fresh underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt of mark’s before walking down the hall to the bathroom. as you turn on the hot water, you hear the rustling of the pans in the kitchen on the first floor. you undress out of your clothing, tossing them into the dirty hamper and stepping into the steaming hot shower. with the door cracked slightly open, the sweet smell of banana and cinnamon pancakes fill your nose making you feel more awake and ready to take on the day full of zoom meetings and article writing. you hum to a tune mark recently showed you of his recent work he was planning on sending to a big company for approval, excited to be able to hear another hit of his on the radio and secretly knowing it’s your boyfriend who wrote and produced the song. mark being a ghost writer only hurt when you were reminded you couldn’t show off his creations to the world, other than that you were always very supportive and constantly told people of his career- you just couldn’t expose which hit songs he wrote and produced and for who.

even though mark was very friendly and popular locally, he was also very secretive about certain things such as his past and family. he was very brief about his siblings and childhood, only ever sharing about how his parents lived in canada and he barely spoke to them due to a falling out. whenever you asked, he dismissed it and said it wasn’t important since it was ‘all in the past’. whenever you asked how his childhood was, his regular bubbly personality changed to one full of tension. his frown was evident and eyes full of sorrow, making you change the subject to something else entirely that brought back the mark you had always known. so you never pondered much on the thought of it since everything else he did for you drowned out his secrets.

stepping out of the shower and onto the fluffy carpet on the floor, you dried yourself off with your velvet black towel and walked up to the mirror to start doing your morning routine. multiple steps later, you slipped on your clothing and matching house slippers with your boyfriend that he surprised you with last weekend. you rubbed some product into your hair before walking out of the bathroom and down the industrial spiral staircase, shuffling towards the soft vocals of Bazzi that bounced off the walls of the small kitchen. the sight of your boyfriend in his matching slippers, naked torso, and plain black boxers made your face light up. as previously stated: everything was perfect.

you shared a breakfast with him for the next hour as the cat took turns napping in each of your laps, ultimately deciding to sleep in yours for the last twenty minutes before you switched positions to start your work. mark happily cleaned everything up, not one complaint leaving his lips as he hummed quietly to himself as to not disturb your workday. you caught him catching glimpses at you as you attended a zoom meeting and waved bye to him off camera as he left the room to go do his work for the day.

you always wanted to see his personal at-home office, see how he decorated it or even watch him work his magic. but that was another secret he wanted to keep to himself, always making sure to lock the door behind himself as he exited and entered. he even went as far as to get a code lock for the door and not letting you know the code. one time you even tried every combination it allowed you to while he was out running errands but failed at every attempt you made. curiosity struck you from time to time at what he was hiding behind that wooden door, but you never questioned it since you knew it wasn’t any malicious intent behind it. i mean, he could never do anything wrong. he was mark lee. your loving boyfriend of two years who never did you wrong. so why would he start now?

by the time your zoom meeting ended, it was three in the afternoon and time for checking emails. logging into your emails, you noticed one labeled IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ ASAP from your close friend, jungwoo. he had become a close friend during your time in college, then when you both got accepted into the same company you both became even closer; you now thought of him as a brother. you automatically opened the email, concern flooding your brain as to why he emailed you in all caps at three in the morning. he was always known to be an early bird, even in your college days, so this was very unexpected and a bit odd. nonetheless, you opened the email and read his message attached with a link to a webpage.

i know it’s late, i’m sorry. but you need to see this. let me know when you get this.

was all it said above the link to a missing persons webpage. you clicked it, unsure of what she seemed so scared of in her email. but once you opened the page and scrolled down a bit, you understood. it was a bunch of different people, raging from missing for as long as five years to three months. but somewhere along the middle, you stopped.

impossible. this has to be some kind of sick joke. the face on your screen has to be some edit that one of your friends made as some distasteful prank. but the type of friends you had rarely pulled pranks and if they did they were minuscule and forgetful. this, this was different. an evil prank if there ever was one.

down the hall, the familiar creaking of your boyfriends work studio door was hearing opening. as his footsteps jogged down the steps towards your direction, you quickly shut your laptop closed and started packing up your items, pretending you had finished all your work for the day even though it wasn’t even four in the afternoon yet. the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body from behind startled you, making you jump in his arms at the sudden contact.

“woah, are you good babe?” mark asked you as he moved his face down towards yours, planting a quick peck to your cheek before pulling away to stare at you lovingly.

the pit in your stomach wasn’t comforting in the slightest, if anything it made you want to vomit up all your emotions onto him and run away from your shared apartment. but you couldn’t do that; you had no idea what would even come of it. there had to be an explanation to all this.

you put on your best fake smile, pecking the lips you’ve loved for the past two years that suddenly felt more cold than warm. “sorry, was deep into packing everything up. i just finished for the day!” you attempted to sound excited that you had finished for the day, smiling from ear to ear and believable as you could.

luckily, it worked. mark had a voice telling him something was wrong with you, that something was up, but he ignored it because he trusted you with every fiber of his being. his one hand moved from your body to your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “so early? i thought your work day ended at four thirty?”

“it does,” you started as you wiggled from his grip attempting to stand up from your seat at the dining table. thinking of an excuse to throw him off your trail, you said it in an aggravated tone to show you were at least somewhat serious. well, you weren’t. but you didn’t want him to know that. “but i forgot one of my files at the office for tomorrow and have to run to go get it really quick.”

he just nodded, running a hand through your hair as he placed another loving kiss to your jaw. a fake giggle left your lips, a fake giggle that seemed nothing but real to your boyfriend. he might not buy what you’re selling him, but he knows there’s nothing malicious behind your potential fake lie. if anything he assumed it was for a surprise for him. “tacos tonight? my treat, i’ll place the order online for pickup.”

“sure babe.” you grabbed your briefcase and shut it tightly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the front door to slip on some sneakers. “taco bell or the taco place off of Woodbury and 15th?”

“Woodbury and 15th, duh. they have the best tacos around.” he followed behind you like a lost puppy, watching as you threw on your jean jacket and grabbed your keys from the key hook. “what time should i place it for pickup?”

you looked up in thought, pondering what time it would be best. “four thirty sounds good enough. should be done picking up my files and make it there in time for it to still be hot enough for us to eat when i return. do you need anything while i’m out?”

with a swift shake of his head and a goodbye kiss, you exchanged ‘see you later''’s as you exited the apartment and went down into the parking garage to your car. when you entered the vehicle, you threw your briefcase that you didn’t even need in the backseat so you could grip tightly onto the steering wheel in frustration.

why was your boyfriend, mark lee, on a missing persons list? and why did it say he went missing nearly three years ago? you tried convincing yourself it was a stupid website, a dumb website someone made up to trick you and get a laugh. but it was also an official government website so it couldn’t be fake. it was real. too real.

holding back tears as you drove down to your friend's home, you pulled into his parking lot and ran straight into the building. texting or calling him hadn’t even crossed your mind, you needed to talk to him face to face about this. how did he even find this webpage? when did he find it? was he just as confused as you were? nothing made sense and you just needed answers, any answer that remotely made sense would do at this point in time. within the first two knocks you were face to face with jungwoo, walking straight past him and into his living room with no hesitation in your step. you waited till he closed the door to even attempt at speaking.

“what the fuck?” was all you could say as you stared into the eyes of your distraught friend, taking a seat on his couch before putting your head in your heads.

he made her way to you cautiously, making sure to stay his distance since you seemed so upset by the news. “i found it last night and sent it to you right away. it makes no sense. im just as confused as you are.”

his hand resting on your shoulder brought you comfort, not much comfort but a pinch of what you were craving from anyone but mark- if that was even his real name. “i don’t know what to do.” you turned to face him, small tears streaming down your face that he subconsciously wiped away with his thumb. “do i ask him about it? i mean i met him two and a half years ago and it says he went missing three years ago, so i met him six months after he was reported missing.”

jungwoo shook his head right away. “no, don’t. we don’t even really know him-“

“i do-“

“no you don’t.” he interrupted, his voice remaining as calm as possible. “nobody does. i mean, what if he ran away from doing something terrible? what if he hurt someone?”

“he wouldn’t do that!” you yelled, more tears stinging your eyes as your best friend spoke. you watched his expression change to hurt, making him back away from you and over towards the other end of the couch. “no, i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m just- he just seemed so lovely. maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

he picked up his nearly empty wine glass, taking a sip as he leaned against the armrest. “for three years?” watching you crumble in front of his own eyes made his heart break into pieces; he never wanted to see you like this. “listen, i did as much research as i possibly could before passing out on my laptop and made a google doc about it, i could share it with you if you’d like and we can go over it together tomorrow? when you’re more calm.”

nodding in agreement, you wept in his arms for a bit before leaving his apartment and driving off to pick up the tacos mark ordered in. as you walked up to the vendor, he asked if you were okay since it seemed you were crying. you reassured him you were okay and there was nothing to worry about, smiling along with your lie to try and mask it as a truth. he didn’t buy it but gave you your tacos after payment anyway and wished you a goodnight, telling you to tell mark he said hello.

you made sure your face look somewhat normal before exiting the car and heading towards the elevator of your shared apartment, fiddling with the plastic bag out of habit due to your nerves. as you opened the front door, you plastered on your fakest, brightest smile so mark wouldn’t suspect a thing. and he didn’t, at all. his head shot in your direction as he laid across the sofa, jumping to his feet to go greet you and help you carry in your tacos and briefcase. his lips that greeted you no longer felt like safety, but instead of betrayal.

“missed you, babe.” he commented as he made his way into the kitchen, his smile never leaving his face.

“missed you more!” you shouted in reply, hanging your jacket back up before making your way to the couch to plop down in thought. how were you supposed to act normal around him, knowing he’s a supposed missing person?

the next morning you woke up an hour earlier than normal, wiggling your way out of your boyfriend's grip and quietly making your way downstairs to start the coffee and make some eggs with bacon. as you slipped on your morning cup of energizer, you read the google doc jungwoo had shared with you the previous night. you were reading every bullet point and reading every article he attached.

each article and point he made was more shocking than the last. one article mentioned how there was a late teen who went missing in ontario, canada with an attached photo of what seemed to be a younger version of your boyfriend. you couldn’t even attempt to convince yourself it was someone different- the resemblance was uncanny. the only difference was the name in the article was Minhyung Lee instead of Mark, but besides that there were no differences. a different article went on to explain his childhood, how he was always a troubled kid who always found himself in detention or in different juvenile detention centers. it continued on explaining how despite all of those challenges, he was such a great guy up until the incident.

the article never went into detail or said-incident, but it mentioned the slaying of three family members. reading just that small blurb left you sick to your stomach, but even more so after it explained that after the bodies were discovered in his home he was never seen again. how if anyone ever came across him to not interact or draw suspicion, but instead dial 911 and inform authorities of his whereabouts.

you were so caught up in reading the article you didn’t even hear mark coming down the stairs and enter the kitchen, grabbing a mug from one of the cabinets and starting to pour himself a cup.

“you okay, babe? what’s wrong, bad nights sleep?” he questioned, breaking you out of your daze.

your eyes immediately darted to him, smiling warmly at him to withdraw suspicion of you being awake so early. “you could say that again.” closing your laptop, you made your way over towards the stove and moved the fully cooked bacon and sunny side up eggs onto a plate for him. you turned to face him and noticed him already dressed for the day, taking one last swig of coffee before grabbing his keys from the small bowl on the island counter.

he noticed your confusion and then the plate of eggs, frowning apologetically before grabbing a piece of bacon and shoving it into his mouth. “i don’t have time to eat this morning, i have an important meeting then a long day ahead of me. i’m sorry, i should’ve said something sooner.”

you shook your head in disagreement, leaning over to peck his lips before placing a small one on his cheek. “it’s okay, just make sure to eat when you can and to let me know when you get to work so i know you’re safe.”

he mumbled a soft ‘shit’ as he realized the time, noticing that if he didnt leave now he would be late. he placed his mug down swiftly before placing a sloppy kiss on your forehead and running out the door. normally you’d get giddy about him running late while seeming very professional, the sight being too cute for you to handle. but that pit in the bottom of your stomach wouldn’t leave no matter how much you wish it did. you wish everything was just some sort of sick nightmare and that your loving boyfriend of two years wasn’t some sort of potential killer from canada who’s been missing for three years.

as soon as he left, you called your friend and luckily he answered. you went over the facts you both found, or more so he found and you caught up on. jungwoo comforted you the best he could over the phone, saying you both would figure out a solution together. when you told him mark was gone in the studio all day till late, a lightbulb went off on top of his head.

“try sneaking into his office.” he suggested, running a nervous hand through his hair.

your eyes widened at the thought. “what? but i’ve tried every possible combination, it’s useless.”

“but what if he used the anniversary of the day he committed the crimes?”

you bit down on your lip, pondering for a moment. “but we don’t even know the date-“

“july twenty fifth.” he interrupted. “one of the last articles i sent you mentioned it, but i’m guessing you didn’t finish reading it all?”

“no, mark interrupted me before i could finish the whole doc.” you sighed, ultimately deciding to take on your friend's idea and walking up the stairs towards his at-home studio. “if i’m going to do this, please stay on the phone with me.”

jungwoo reassured you he wouldn’t hang up at all, and he never did. you tried the numbers of the date he provided, but the red blinking light signaled it was wrong.

“it didn’t work.” you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“instead of 0725 try 2507, switch it around.” your best friend suggested, anticipation stringing through his words.

after typing in the numbers backwards, the green lights signaled you could open the door and enter inside. wasting no time, you swung open the door and was greeted with something you didn’t expect. it didn’t look anything like a home studio, but instead a lonely mahogany desk with piles of different color coordinated folders and files scattered across the top of it with very few sitting on the floor around the chair. stepping inside, you looked around and noticed a duffel bag sitting at the corner of the room near the window that was closed off with wooden panels. you slowly made your way over there, being cautious not to step on anything or move anything out of place.

the bag itself was already zipped halfway open, allowing you to be able to peek inside and notice some bloody knives sticking out of the side. your eyes widened, making you take a few steps back into the closet of the room. when first buying this loft, you hadn’t noticed this particular closet. but granted you haven’t been inside this room for several months now so you might’ve forgotten it. but since you let your curiosity get the best of you, you found your fingers sliding it open and being greeted by nothing. there was nothing but black clothing, extra sneakers that were also black, but that was until you noticed something dangling from the ceiling: a small rope. you knew you shouldn’t open it, you knew you should’ve just called the cops or even answer your friend who was still on the phone screaming at you to answer him, but you did the stupid thing you knew you shouldn’t have and opened it.

down came a set of wooden stairs leading up to something that seemed to be an attic, or a makeshift attic of some sorts. as the stairs came down, some movement was heard and a light popped on in the middle of the room. you took in a big breath of air before climbing up the dingy stairs and peaking in the room. inside seemed empty, nothing but an extra mattress and a few boxes. but when you heard some shuffling from the corner behind you, you whipped your head in it’s direction and noticed a man sitting there chained up to the wall.

the sight alone almost made you drop your phone but thankfully you tightened the grip on it which caused it to stay in your hands. the man’s eyes widened as well, trying his best to say words but failing to do so as a ball gag was in his mouth. in the background of all this was your friend on the line, asking what all the commotion was. it wasn’t until he said he was going to send the cops that you spoke up.

“this is so much deeper than we thought, jungwoo.” you said to him, making him yell a ‘what’ on the other end. “send the cops. give them the code to my apartment door. tell them there’s a man in the attic.” was all you said before hanging up on him.

leaving your best friend in confusion, you fully pulled yourself into the attic and crawled over towards the scared man. although he was excited to see someone else for a change, he was also scared you were part of what mark had going on. he cowered in fear, backing up into the wall as he watched you remove the ball gag from his mouth. he was unsure whether to scream or just stare, so he opted out on just staring at the stranger in front of him.

you stared back, not sure what to even say to him. “what’s your name?” you asked him, putting the ball gag to the side of him as you stared down at his condition. his clothes were dirty, ripped at some edges and obviously had been worn out for quite some time now. the sight made you frown, tears welling up in the back of your throat. but you kept them down, you had to for this stranger that was being held captive by your boyfriend for some unknown reason to you.

“taeil. moon taeil.” he replied, his voice sounding dry and broken. “who are you? please help me, i’ve been up here for months.”

suddenly, you heard the front door of your apartment open and mark shout out that he forgot something and apologizing for disturbing your work. eyes widening, you slip back on the ball gag as tears fall from his eyes, quiet mumbles of disagreement falling from his lips being heard from him before you tighten it on him. you quietly pull up the rope to hide the stairs, making sure it closed tightly before shuffling around to find a place to hide. you ultimately decided on the abnormally large yet dusty toy trunk in another corner of the room, unlocking it quickly and squeezing in as tightly as you could before you heard mark pull down the rope to enter the attic.

you heard him tsk as he crawled up the creaky wooden steps, an obvious smile on his lips as he spoke. “you’re lucky this room is soundproof, you're moving around way too much for my liking.” he said, his tone different from his usual one. this one was threatening, more scary and off putting.

taeil’s muffled cries were filling the room, earning a small laugh from mark. this laugh was different as well, very sarcastic and something fueled by rage. “i have a proposition for you, taeil.” you heard something being picked up from the floor, earning a loud muffled scream to be heard from the chained up stranger. “tell me where they are, and i won’t kill you tonight like i planned.”

your eyes widened. he couldn’t possibly be talking about you, could he? no, it’s impossible. you’ve been quiet this whole time, and you made sure to not leave a trace that you had been in his ‘studio’. your mind flooded with what he was referencing, but everything kept pointing back to you. and what does he mean tonight? is that why he was staying at work late and encouraged you to go out and have fun with audrey? so he could sneak home early and get rid of taeil?

a shake of some chains could be heard, signaling taeil had shaken his head. “come on, i know they’re in here somewhere. i saw on the camera, now where are they?” fuck. you didn’t even notice any cameras. “if you tell me, i’ll let you go right now.”

another shake of the chain and you soon heard footsteps approaching the toy trunk, meaning taeil gave you up. as much as you wanted to hate him for telling mark, you probably would’ve done the same if you were in his situation. you could’ve sworn your breathing stopped as you heard the lock twist on the toy trunk, soon the dim lighting of the attic showing you your boyfriend with a knife between his fingers. he smiled down at you, not with love or admiration but with something sinister.

he shook his head with a chuckle, kneeling down to your eye level as he teased you with the already bloody knife. the blood seemed recent, and when you glanced over at taeil for a split second you noticed a fresh mark across his chest that was dripping from a fresh wound. attempting to mask your fear was no use, even if you did try your hardest to. mark was able to see right through you, the mark you thought you knew.

“how’d you figure it out, huh?” he brought the knife down to your cheek, trailing the cold metal along your cheekbone with gradual pressure. “how long have you known?”

his evil smile never once left his face, making your insides churn in disgust. you swallowed hard before responding, mentally yelling at yourself not to stutter as you replied to his questions. “FBI’s missing persons list, i’ve known for two days.”

“two days and you’re already getting this nosey? tsk tsk, babe.” the knife trailed down to your jawline, the pressure starting to sting when it starts to draw some blood. “you’re so cute, trying to save little taeil over here but he gave you up without a thought thinking i’d actually let him go.”

screams were heard through taeil’s ball gag, making you both turn to look at him as tears fell from his eyes. without a thought, you quickly kicked mark in the face with your foot with a swift yet hard kick. watching him fall onto his back and the knife slide across the wooden flooring, you jump out of the trunk and run towards the knife, picking it up and climbing down the attic stairs. an aggravated groan was heard from mark as you touched the floor of his supposed studio, running out into the hall and hearing him follow behind you shortly after. you heard him scream after you followed by him grabbing at the shirt you were wearing that was coincidentally his. he pulled you back harshly, causing you to slide across the floor and towards the industrial stairs with the knife falling down to the first floor.

you crawled backwards down the stairs, kicking at him as you attempted to escape. eventually, he fell back onto the floor once more which gave you a few seconds to jump to your feet and attempt to run down to first floor and out the door. but before you could, mark was quick to his feet and grabbed your shoulders. he tried to push you over the railing of the spiral staircase, but you were a fighter. always were, and always will be. you fought back just as hard, even if half of your body was dangling off the edge of the railing and his hands around your neck in attempt to weaken you. in one motion, you brought your knee up to his crotch hard which made him groan and loosen his grip on you. taking this small window of opportunity, you pushed him back and off of the railing successfully.

the noise it made when he fell made you cover your ears, the crack and imagery of his body limp out across the floor with blood pouring out at a rapid rate made you nearly vomit. you slowly made your way down the stairs and towards the front door, not even sparing a glance in the direction of your boyfriend. before you could

turn the handle, the door swung open and in front of you were policed officers with their guns pulled out accompanied by your best friend. all the officers rushed past you and into the apartment while you fell into the comforting arms of jungwoo, your tears finally escaping from your eyes.

you sat on the balcony of jungwoo’s apartment as you read the new article written about mark. it was ten months after the incident had occurred, and people were still writing about everything that happened; even youtubers were making videos about it and netflix and peacock both reached out for documentaries or a dramatic remake of your trauma. of course you declined, even if the seven digit numbers they offered were the tiniest bit tempting.

the full story about mark shocked you to your core, because the mark that you met and loved all those years was not the same mark who tried to kill you that day. after fleeing canada successfully, he took the next amtrak train out to the farthest city and figured he’d wing it when he got there. which he ended up doing successfully. he ended up meeting poor taeil, becoming close friends with him and eventually masking as him in daily life. taeil was a fresh college graduate starting at a new company, and after mark found that out he decided to chain him up in taeil’s own apartment for months and stealing his identity. he posed as taeil at work and did a damn well good job at it. then once you both decided to move in together, he moved taeil up to his ‘at home studio’ attic and the days you thought he was working from home, he was really torturing taeil up in the secret room behind the closet he had built in. every sadistic detail about the past three years was written down in a leather journal he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk, every detail of how he hurt his family, tortured and kidnapped taeil, and how much he loved you. everything was very sick and twisted.

as the summer rain pelted against the metal railing, you couldn’t help but shudder in disgust at the sight and noise. jungwoo, who was sitting beside you noticed this and decided to bring it up. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you nodded, taking a sip from your coffee mug as you looked out to the setting sun. the oranges and reds mixed together beautifully, but the view just made you upset if anything. “i’m fine. i just hate the summer rain.”

maybe there wasn’t always beauty in the things you hate.

[halloweenhuh]

Halloween, Huh? Day 3 Reveals

Freaky Friday (I woke up in my enemy's body) Rated M - 8,873 words “So he’s entered some weird-ass, stress-induced fever dream where he’s in Henry’s body. It’s probably, like, the latent guilt Alex feels for the repercussions this will have on his mom’s approval rating even though the whole thing is objectively stupid and people will forget about it in a week.”

Or, a FirstPrince Body Swap AU.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Save a horse - Rated E - 4,616 words This year’s Halloween costume was a no-brainer for Alex. Sure, the Barbie movie was questionable, to say the least, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that the costumes were really fun, and as soon as he saw Barbie and Ken coming out of that store with full-on cowboy outfits, he knew he needed that in his life- in his and Henry’s life, actually.

He even had the costumes custom made for them. And maybe he requested for Henry’s jeans to be a little tighter than the original ones, whatever. He is allowed.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Life is a maze, and love is a riddle - E - 3,093 words Alex, June, and Nora take Henry to his first haunted corn maze.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Taste the Way You Bleed - Rated T - 3,923 words “It’s been 427 years,” June says matter-of-factly.

Bea nods. “Ever since Alex’s first bi-annual vampire orgy.” Her gaze flickers away from her cards and over to the camera. “Henry got flustered and snubbed him, you see.”

“If anyone knows how to hold onto a grudge, it’s Alex,” June sighs.

“They hardly spoke for the next two centuries.” Bea plays a card. “Then Pez suggested a change of scenery, and we all moved to Brooklyn.”

“Now they’re just Like This.”

(A What We Do in the Shadows AU. Two centuries of living together haven't made Alex and Henry any better at getting along, but when a possible vampire hunter moves in across the street, Alex will be dusted before he lets anything happen to his nemesis.)

.🎃🎃🎃.

Heart enough - Rated T - 8,012 words "...there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement."

Instead of Alex flying to London, Henry is sent to D.C. to do the post Cakegate damage control just in time for Alex and June's annual Halloween party.

.🎃🎃🎃.

Fall Fun - Rated T - 2,713 words Alex and Henry need a break from their hectic NYC life, so they take a long fall weekend to drive around upstate NY/New England. Pretty foliage, corn mazes, hiking, apple cider donuts, cute B&Bs, etc.!

.🎃🎃🎃.

A little note for all of our wonderful creators: if your work was revealed by the Palace today, please be sure to update your publication date to today’s date so it shows up fresh in the AO3 feed.

[slasherhoe87]

🕹The Slashers' Favourite Video Games🖥

So you've introduced your murderous partners to the wonderful world of video gaming... what is their favourite game??

MICHAEL MYERS

THE SIMS 4

He enjoys recreating Midwest-like towns in the worlds of Newcrest, Willow Creek, Brindleton Bay & Copperdale

He uses/downloads both mods and cc (cc is cosmetic stuff for the game like clothing, decor, hair, furniture etc) for the game

Has has decorated his worlds as Halloween wonderlands - spooky decor and lighting is everywhere

He built Laurie's home right next to his own childhood home

Downloaded the 'Extreme Violence' mod so he could terrorise and murder the poor sims

Downloaded his navy coveralls and his mask cc

Controls Laurie's household and makes her life miserable

She hasn't showered in weeks and is forced to use a toilet on full display out on the front lawn

You have to drag him away from the PC otherwise he'll sit there causing misery and bringing chaos to the lives of the sims forever

JASON VOORHEES

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT

A killer stalking the woods for victims trespassers?

Can actually play as himself?

Gets to play with you as well?

Can enjoy the forested scenery that he so loves?

All of the above are a recipe for a great time to Jason

Likes to play at night as it helps him unwind after long days of setting up/securing traps and patrolling his woods

You and 3 of your friends would play as the victims for Jason to hunt down

More often than not you and your friends die by his hands but on the rare occasions that you survive, Jason rewards you with hours of fun in the bedroom

BO SINCLAIR

GRAND THEFT AUTO V

Play as criminals causing murder and mayhem in a big, sprawling city? Yes please

The cars! Bo is obsessed with the variety of vehicles on offer in the game

Spends hours customizing all the cars he "procured legitimately"

Likes to park his vehicle at a pretty spot somewhere on the map and enjoy the sunset while listening to the in-game radio station music

Trevor is his favourite "protagonist"

Punches every npc that pisses him off

Knocks down and reverses over every cyclist he encounters on the road

Really likes the desert and the free spirit atmosphere of southern cali... sometimes makes him wanna pack-up and move himself and his brothers out to a town around the Salton Sea area

VINCENT SINCLAIR

LAYERS OF FEAR

A psychological horror centered around an artist whose one and only goal is to complete his Magnum Opus? Vincent immediately bought this game

Vincent takes his time traversing through the paintings (trippy doorways) trying to uncover every clue and unearth every bit of lore

The imagery and artistry of the game has inspired some of his own recent works

Is fascinated by the psychedelic horror and is not often affected by the jump scares or disturbing imagery though sometimes he'll jump especially when his character turns around to find a painting had crept up right behind him

Plays as often as he can, though not at the expense of the "family business"

CARRIE

THE SIMS 4

Like Michael, she can spend hours in front of the PC screen playing the Sims 4

Unlike Michael though, she is not murdering and terrorising the sims (unless they really cross her)

She loves the world of Henford-on-Bagley

She downloaded (because she can't build for shit) a little yellow and stone country cottage from the gallery where you, her, your pets and livestock live

A quiet, happy life filled with love - that's all she wants. And while the two of you still live in the noisy city, the Sims can provide her dream life until the two of you are able to move one day

In the game she is a housewife who makes money off of her knitting, baking, small scale farming and other crafts while you own and work at the local vet clinic

Decorates your shared cottage and your sims with the cottagecore aesthetic

JENNIFER CHECK

VAMPIRE THE MASQUERADE BLOODLINES

Plays this game during the week nights

Has downloaded a ton of cosmetic mods to update the graphics of this older game

She chose her vampiress to be of the Toreador clan as they were the closest vampires that resembled Succubi/Incubi

Has fun using the seduction dialogue options in the game to get her way

Has heard some great songs in the game to add to her Spotify playlist

The game makes her wonder if vampires actually exist... is she, a Succubus exists then why not vampires? If they do exist she hopes they don't sparkle

WILL GRAHAM

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Plays this when he can't sleep - which is almost every single night

Enjoys getting to play as a detective and the crime scene investigations

Playing as androids with artificial intelligence adds an interesting sci-fi element for him

There are a lot of moral choices that need to be made in the game and he's not so sure a lot of his fbi colleagues would agree with many of his choices - especially Jack and Alana

He doesn't think Jack would appreciate some of the similarities he finds with Hank and him

Also wonders if Hannibal isn't an android himself as his eerie calm and levelheadedness and barely-there facial expressions would certainly allude to it

BILLY & STU

MARIO KART

They love playing with you

After watching movies on the weekend you all settle down with snacks and play the Mario Kart games

Billy and Stu are of course Mario and Luigi

You and Stu never get angry if you lose but Billy just about loses his shit

Billy will sulk and give whoever won the race the stink-eye

Because of Billy's attitude, Stu makes it his mission to get Billy to lose. His favourite method is throwing banana peels in front of Billy's kart. Even Mario (Billy's character) gives Stu the side-eye

Regardless, you all have great fun despite Billy being a sore loser - but you and Stu sure do make it up to him later in the night in your shared bed

I don't know why I wrote this. Damn you, spontaneous thoughts 🙄🤣

[scoops-aboy86]

We see a lot of chubby Steve/weight gain post-high school but I think it would be interesting to see some fics where he’s still in school. Maybe he has to give up sports due to the concussions or something?

You're right and you should say it!! I have a bit of that in my love spell no go AU, before Starcourt happens and Steve goes full trauma-fueled must be able to protect everyone I know mode. 

So... might not be what you were hoping for but I wrote an almost 3k addition to that fic, during the part where Steve is still at Hawkins High. Swim is over for the year (and Steve avoids his pool now), and while he's still on the basketball team he's also smoking weed (helps with the nightmares, getting enough sleep, better mood, etc.) and snacking more. He's in the starter belly stage but has no complaints.

Part 1, (YOU ARE HERE), part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11 of the love spell no go au

The weed he bought from Munson is a godsend, and Steve wonders why he hadn’t thought of it before… only to remember that Nancy wouldn’t have approved. (Although she’s not a priss, exactly, she had barely even touched alcohol since the night Barb died. Until Halloween.) But he can sleep through the lonely nights now, which is worth even that hurtful pang of realization—that maybe, Nancy hadn’t been very good for him. 

(Sure, she had helped him study. And his grades had improved. But sometimes, too, she would smile and say, “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.” It had been cute at first, before Barb, when the smile had still been real.)

Whenever he thinks about that, or feels particularly lonely, he digs into his stash for a quick smoke out his bedroom window—never by the pool, not anymore. He gets into the habit of snacking after, even if it’s while doing his homework, because even when he’s a little bit stoned it’s somehow easier to focus on shit when he’s doing something else at the same time, and chewing works. 

(Nancy hadn’t liked it when he’d fiddled with his pencil or a rubber band or a Rubix cube or anything while she’d quizzed him with flashcards, even though he’d tried to tell her it helped. She’d fussed at him about it until he’d just… stopped.)

Other times, he zones out in front of the tv while working his way through a sandwich or a bag of chips or a sleeve of Oreos. Or takeout, a lot of the time, because his culinary skills pretty much stop at sandwiches, up to and including scrambling an egg for a breakfast sandwich. But a man cannot live on scrambled eggs alone, he’s learned that the hard way, so pizza or burgers or pasta in cardboard containers it is. 

It’s not just the munchies. After a while Steve gets into the habit of just… eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids he babysits sometimes (for all that Mike protests that they aren’t babies and don’t need a sitter; what they do consistently need, however, is rides) don't care as long as he springs for enough that they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight. He doesn’t care. 

He starts going to parties again half for a change of scenery, half for a change of food options. Pizza still makes a frequent appearance, but there’s popcorn and flavors of chips that he doesn’t usually buy and various kinds of snack mixes. (His favorites are anything that include M&Ms.) Sometimes, there are even cupcakes or cookies. He doesn’t dance, doesn’t even drink all that much and sticks to just beer when he does, never the punch. Most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities, but he turns up to people-watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.

Tonight, though, Tammy Thompson just will not leave him alone and he’s at a loss for what to do about it. She’s been talking his ear off about wanting to move to Nashville and become a country singer the entire time he’s been working on this extra large pepperoni and sausage with black olives—not his first choice, but it’s still hot enough for the cheese to stretch whenever he picks up the next slice, warm tomato sauce and grease dripping down the front of his polo more often than he can always catch with a napkin. 

“Did you want some?” he asks at some point, to be polite and hopefully indicate that he doesn’t care that she’s trying to tell him something. 

He can tell immediately that it doesn’t work, because Tammy lights up from simply being addressed, even though her answer is, “Oh, no thank you, I’m a vegetarian.”

“Right,” Steve mumbles, and crams nearly half of his next slice of meat-laden pizza in his mouth. Maybe if he talks with his mouth full. “More for me, then.”

The words come out muffled, but she still beams and offers to grab him something to drink, jumping up and scampering off before Steve even has a chance to respond. He sighs, downs the rest of the beer he’s been nursing, and takes the new one she brings him without saying thank you. Between the next pieces of pizza he pops it open, chugs it, and belches; she puts a hand on his arm. 

For a moment, at that, Steve feels a faint stirring of interest. He likes his food, did even before dropping swimming and picking up weed, and well before it started to show. Now that it has, he feels comfortable in his softer body. Good. And maybe… maybe he could handle dating someone who doesn’t mind how much he likes it. He imagines Tammy running her immaculately painted nails over his skin, places he’s noticed have been getting more sensitive lately, and suppresses a shiver. 

“Could you pass me that bowl of M&Ms over there?” he asks, testing the waters. Yeah, he could probably reach it if he stretched, but he’s starting to fill up and doesn’t feel like putting the extra pressure on his stomach. He sits back a little in his chair instead, shifting to get comfortable and laying a hand on his belly where it bows out over the waistband of his jeans. “Sorry, just, you know. Big appetite lately.”

“Oh, that’s okay, I don’t mind,” Tammy says with a giggle as she fetches the bowl for him. “Besides, you’re an athlete! I’m sure you’ll work it off in no time on the court.”

And yeah, no, that vague interest curdles immediately. As far as Steve is concerned, the only parts of himself he wants to get rid of are all in his head—the heartbroken parts, the nightmare and trauma parts, the desperately lonely and needy parts. But he’s not so lonely that he’ll hook up with a girl who’s willing in spite of how he looks, because what else could she possibly be interested in? His personality?

He barely even has one. King Steve has always been bullshit, Nancy was right about that much. 

Through the crowd, he spots curly hair and a flash of dark leather—Eddie. Good, he’d been hoping to buy more tonight, and this is as good an excuse to exit this conversation as any. 

Steve grabs a handful of M&Ms to shove in his mouth and flips the lid of the pizza box closed, handing the bowl back to Tammy and taking the box with him when he stands. “Well, enjoy the rest of the party,” he blurts. “I’ve gotta go see a guy about some drugs. Bye!”

As he makes his escape, some girl that he thinks he might have class with or something just about shoulder-checks him, but he’s solid enough that she ends up stumbling from the impact instead. The glare she gives him could peel paint… which is actually kind of refreshing, after enduring Tammy’s simpering for the better part of an hour. 

To Eddie’s perpetual frustration, now that Steve Harrington has started buying weed from him he can never seem to be free of the guy. Case in point: the “Hey, Munson, wait up!” that follows him to the backyard of tonight’s house party slash business venture. 

He waits until he’s down the patio steps before whipping around, prepared to glare and snap an impatient what do you want, Harrington, but ends up staring at a pizza box that’s being shoved in his face. 

“Pizza?” Steve says. 

Eddie blinks at the box, then at the boy holding it. “This isn’t your party. Doesn’t that mean it’s not your pizza to offer?”

“It might as well be, I’ve eaten most of it,” Steve replies. “No one seemed to notice, that makes it fair game.” 

Once, Eddie had been selling at a party and been bitched out for touching a single cookie, because those were for guests. He wants to scowl, but then his gaze flicks down to the partly open box and sees that there aren’t many slices left, eyes fixing on the evidence dripped down the front of Steve’s shirt and the way it’s… tight, across his middle. “You ate all but three slices of an entire extra large?”

He’s not sure what answer he expects to get. Maybe something like Of course not, dickhead, or maybe just, What, like it’s hard? But all Steve says is, “Yep.” And keeps looking at him with those sweet hazel eyes that seem bight and not too clouded by alcohol. 

Still, Eddie is wary. “Okay… You first.” 

Steve just shrugs and pulls out a slice, taking a bite before Eddie snatches it out of his hand. “Hey!”

“Just making sure it wasn’t poisoned first, sweetheart,” Eddie retorts, sneering for the excuse to call a pretty boy sweetheart in semi-public, butterflies stirring in his stomach at getting away with it. “Don’t worry, the rest is all yours.”

“Who’s tried to poison you?” Steve asks in a perplexed tone, folding the last two slices together to make a pizza sandwich and tossing the empty box onto the deck. Still following Eddie, because of course this is Eddie’s life. Love spell was a spectacular failure, but he’s still got the boy of his dreams following him around like a lost duckling because he’s got drugs. Fucking fantastic. 

And Eddie doesn’t want to get into the whole thing—those rumors from when Eddie had been in seventh grade and Steve had been in sixth, for all that they’re both in the same grade now, about some kid who’d been sent to the ER from a bad reaction to itching powder. There were variations where it had gotten in his eyes and nearly blinded him, or on his food and made his throat swell shut, or in his underwear and turned his dick so red his balls fell off. In reality, he had only gone to the nurse with a bad rash and hadn’t even been allowed to go home, but it left a goddamn impression. 

He doesn’t want to get into it, not if Steve either doesn’t remember the rumors or hasn’t connected them to his present day self, so he just rolls his eyes and says, “Are you looking to buy or what?”

Steve immediately brightens a bit, like a golden retriever spotting someone holding a tennis ball. “Yeah, I smoked the last I had before coming here but it’s already worn off I think.” And takes a big bite of his two pizza slices. 

So Eddie leads him to a darker nook around the side of the house for the deal, trying not to stare at the way Steve’s cheeks bow out while he chews, like a damn chipmunk. It’s cute. He’s kind of angry that it’s cute, that there’s still a part of him that lights up when Steve looks happy, satisfied, content—and right now all of those boxes are checked. 

“Want to smoke a little now?” Steve offers, once he’s paid and taken the baggie one handed, popped the rest of the food in his mouth, licked his fingers clean, and pulled out a pack of rolling papers. And Eddie pauses too long before answering, long enough that Steve takes the lack of refusal as a yes. 

Which Eddie should correct, because he usually says no to that sort of thing, especially when he’s at parties specifically to sell. He’s turned Steve down before, even; it’s like the guy has a whole thing about offering whenever he plans on lighting up asap. Eddie knows better to fall into that trap. 

But it’s a nice night. The weather is mild for spring, business has been good, and Steve licks his lips to get the last traces of pizza sauce before his tongue darts out to wet the paper and finish rolling the joint. Nice and tight, like the denim hugging Steve’s ass and thighs tighter recently. So Eddie sticks around, breaks his rule and tries to keep his face clear of any evidence that he is fixated on the few degrees of separation between smoking and kissing, heart hammering the entire time. He tells himself it’s a one time only thing, but knows he might be lying. Recognizes how addictive this could be. 

“Thanks for being here,” Steve says after passing the joint back and forth a few times, his eyes glazed and drooping. “Really needed this tonight.”

“That’s what I’m here for, man,” Eddie replies. He’s leaning against the side of the house practically shoulder to shoulder with his crush, and the high washing over him is really taking the edge off the jagged yearning in his chest. Like, he still wants, but he’s happy just floating in the present moment, content with the indirect sharing of spit. And this is… This is okay. 

Surprisingly okay. 

It throws Eddie for a loop because it’s at odds with the whole King Steve image. The whole puppet master persona that isn’t a bully, but can with a few words cut someone down socially to where the bullies could reach them, if they so wish. Popular kids at Hawkins High walk around with their noses in the air like they’ve never smelled a fart and refuse to start now, but this is the guy they turn around and start brown-nosing. King Steve isn’t nice, he’s used to being waited on. Kings do not say thank you to the court jester for simply carrying out his profession. 

Just Steve, though, is different. Just Steve is chill and finished most of an entire huge pizza while mostly sober, is filling out his clothes even better these days in Eddie’s opinion, and currently looks the most at peace he’s ever seen a person. No walls, no guard… Just Steve. 

Okay, that one split joint had gone straight to his head, god damn. 

“Well, I’m gonna take off,” Eddie announces, and can’t tell if he’s said it too loud or not. He pushes off the wall with a shake of his head. “You snagged pretty much the last of my inventory, so I’ll just get out of here before someone starts handing out the torches and pitchforks.”

Steve chuckles. “Like any of those guys in there know how to make a torch,” he scoffs. He manages to say it in a way that almost makes Eddie lean in. Makes him feel like he’s been let in on some sort of inside joke, like they could but those losers couldn’t. 

Which is—Okay, so Eddie does in theory know how to make a torch, he’d looked into it for one of his earliest homebrew campaigns, but Steve Harringnton? The very idea of Steve whipping off his shirt, tying it to a branch, soaking the end in something flammable, and lighting it up is something out of fantasy. Out of specific fantasies that he has had. It snaps Eddie out of the hazy bubble of they that Steve had somehow created with just a few words, and holy shit. Was that one of the side effects of his wonky spell, or was that Just Steve?

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie scoffs back, putting more distance between them even though he does want to lean in, dammit, but he wants Steve to want it too. Even though it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask the guy if he has a ride home, or if he wants to swing by the mom and pop ice cream place on Main for desert or something; Eddie has been practicing swallowing down urges like that since he’d hit adolescence. “Find me next time you need to top up your stash, Harrington.”

He walks away fast enough that if Steve responds he doesn’t hear it, heading for the back gate that he’d left the house for in the first place. His van is parked strategically nearby for a quick getaway, just in case the party got out of hand and a neighbor called the cops. 

And if his dreams that night feature a completely relaxed Steve Harrington chewing on never ending slices of pizza and that blissful look of peace on his face, his lips shiny with spit and grease, it’s not like Eddie is ever going to tell anyone.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 22 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible.  Something like a kiss.

✦ summary: An unexpected action by James confuses Nore's feelings and changes their friendship beyond repair.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, kissing

✦ a/n: I'm back earlier this time! This part was a lot easier to write because I confess it has been living rent free in my head for a while lol Hope you guys like it, feedbacks are welcome and motivate me a lot!

✧ Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin / I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison ✧

The trip back to Los Angeles was pretty quiet as I got lost in my own thoughts. Still trying to wrap my head around my mom's offer and all the baggage it brought, my mind was racing, keeping pace with the dark night scenery outside the window.

"You're awfully quiet," Dave remarked, jolting me back to reality. I glanced at him; he was focused on the road, but looked a bit bothered by my silence.

"My bad," I murmured. "It's just... a lot to take in at once."

"No need to apologize," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He casually took one hand off the wheel, placing it on my thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. I rested my hand on his, leaning back into the seat. He furrowed his brow, the usual sign of concentration, and his hand left mine to shift gears; I smiled faintly, appreciating how good he looked when he was focused. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" I questioned, and he nodded with a grunt. I sighed. "I guess I'm okay. My family is complicated, but it's nothing I'm not used to."

"Your dad seemed nice," he smiled, stealing a quick glance at me. I chuckled softly.

"Yeah, he's... easier to deal with. Now, my mom..."

"She's... interesting," he commented, and I laughed softly, catching on that he was being polite. We were almost home now; Dave stopped the car at a red light and turned to face me, gazing into my eyes.

"She's a pain in the ass, that's what she is," I said, and he burst into laughter. "Always acting like she's better than everyone. She always... always makes me feel like I'm hard to love," I concluded with a sigh.

"Hey," he lifted my chin with his fingers, making me meet his serious and focused gaze. I felt my face warm as he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before pulling away. He whispered into my ear, "That's not true... It's very easy to love you."

The rest of September passed by like a hurricane. A few days after visiting my parents, we threw a small birthday party for Dave with our closest LA friends. To spice things up, there was a mini jam session where Dave, David, and a couple of other friends belted out some fresh tunes they'd cooked up. They had no vocalist yet, but I was blown away by the raw power and intensity of Dave's new compositions anyway. When he strummed those chords, it felt like a surge of electricity took over the whole place. Everything about him cranked up a notch; it was downright impossible to peel my eyes away, even for a second.

October rolled in, and with the streets all decked out for Halloween, I received an invite that temporarily shoved aside my worries about my mom's deal. Leanne's birthday was just around the corner, and she was throwing a bash for the upcoming weekend at Joe's place. Word was it would be a wild one. I hit up San Francisco on Saturday morning, thinking I was kinda early, but his place was already buzzing with people, tunes, and drinks.

"Nore! You made it!" Leanne beamed when she spotted me.

"Hey, Lea. Happy birthday." I grinned, handing over the gift I brought—some records from bands I knew she liked.

"Oh, you brought me a present, thank you!" she squealed, hugging me. I chuckled, giving her a squeeze back. She pulled away with a grin. "Hey, Cliff and the others are by the pool. I'm heading there soon, but if you wanna roll in before..."

"Oh, I'll track 'em down. Got a spot to stash this?" I pointed to the backpack on my back and the helmet from my bike.

I cruised to the backyard after Lea helped me stash my gear in Joe's room. Didn't have to play detective to find my friends; Cliff, Lars, James, and Kirk were deep in conversation by the pool, dead set on pouring vodka from a bottle into little plastic shot cups.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Lars yelped as I strolled up. "James, you snagged way more than the rest of us."

"Why don’t you pour it yourself, then?" James shot him a look, lifting an eyebrow. I grinned.

"Can't believe you dudes didn't save a drop for me," I teased, making them all look up at once.

"Nore!" Lars shouted, all pumped. I threw out a quick hi to the guys before zeroing in on Cliff.

"So, did Dave give you the green light to be here?" he quipped with a smirk. I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"He doesn't need to give me the green light for anything, Cliff," I muttered, and he chuckled before yanking me into a hug.

"Good to see you, Nore. Hey, what's that there?" Cliff pointed to the bag hanging from my arm.

"Oh, about that... Can I chat with you for a sec?" I asked in a hushed tone. Cliff raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued, but gave a nod. We strolled away, finding a quieter spot in the backyard. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, expertly fishing out a joint and lighting it, shielding the flame from the gentle morning breeze with his hands.

"So, spill. What's the scoop?" he asked, and I sighed before handing him the bag. He opened it, furrowing his brow at the sight of the Metallica record. "Wow. Is the album this bad?"

"It’s awesome ," I said, then sighed. "But... Cliff, Dave got really bent out of shape when he saw this. I just figured... maybe you could hold onto the record for me for a bit. I don't want him getting worked up about it..."

"Nore. This isn't right," Cliff stated, his voice firm. I lifted my eyes, locking onto his gaze, and could tell he wasn't very happy with what I'd just said. "You can't do this. You're giving up on living because of him. First, you move to be with him, and we hardly see each other anymore. Now this?"

"You don't get it, Cliff. Please," I pleaded. "I don't want to fight. Not with you guys, not with him."

"Is he giving you grief because of us?" Cliff raised an eyebrow. I sighed, dropping my gaze, but didn't say anything. "Nore." Cliff held my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I can hang onto this for you if you really want. But you gotta tell me you know he's not your responsibility."

"Cliff..."

"Remember what I said when you two started dating?" he cut me off. "If he messes with you, I got your back. Cool?"

"Okay," I murmured, giving a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anything for my fave cousin," he grinned, and I chuckled softly. "Come on, let's get back to the shindig."

Back in the mix with Kirk, Lars, and James, we found the vodka bottle now half-gone, abandoned at James' feet while they all helped themselves to some beers.

"I'm gonna stash this and track down Lea. Back in a sec," Cliff announced, waving the bag with my record. I gave a nod, turning my focus back to the guys.

"Hey, Nore!" James hollered, a grin spreading across his face the moment he spotted me. "There's no way you're sober. You used to be a champ at this drinking thing."

"James, it's ten in the morning," I laughed, and he scoffed, passing the beer he had to Lars and grabbing the vodka bottle from the ground. He popped it open, strolling over and throwing a hand on my shoulder with a grin.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of laying off the booze."

"Of course not," I shot back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. He, along with Lars and Kirk, burst into laughter.

"You gotta taste this vodka. Lars swiped it straight from his old man's stash," Kirk chimed in.

"Yeah, it's awful," Lars laughed, then hiccupped. I rolled my eyes with a smile. I knew my friends turned into total goofballs when they hit the bottle, but watching it unfold while I was stone-cold sober was a whole different trip.

"Come on, open up," James slurred, his words dragging, gripping my chin in his hand.

"James!" I exclaimed, caught off guard, releasing a nervous laugh as I tried to back away. James grumbled, his hand sliding from my chin to rest at the base of my neck, the rough palm pressing against my collarbone. I could feel my skin heating up, my face suddenly flushing. "What happened to the shot glasses?"

"We polished off the drinks and chucked 'em. Come on, you want this or not? Open up."

I scoffed but played along, letting him pour a bit of vodka straight into my mouth. James grinned, his gaze fixed on my lips as I swallowed. He swiped away a droplet that had slid down to my chin with his finger.

"Good girl," he teased, a mischievous smile on his lips as he locked eyes with me. "See? Wasn't that hard."

"Shut up, Hetfield," I shot back, giving him a playful shove, my face heating up even more. He huffed, made a face at me, then strolled off toward the drink coolers without a backward glance.

"Hey! That's my vodka!" Lars protested angrily, before trailing after James. "Get back here, damn it, I haven't finished drinking!"

I watched them go, an uneasy feeling creeping into the depths of my chest. Why did it suddenly feel like maybe I shouldn't have shown up? These were my friends, right? So why did everything seem more complicated than it should be?

"They get really happy when you’re here," Kirk observed. I blinked, surprised by his words. He shot me a smile, but his eyes seemed intrigued.

"What do you mean?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Just that you can tell they really like you."

I ended up talking to Kirk for a few minutes, both of us getting a good laugh watching Lars and James from a distance. Lars was on a mission to reclaim his vodka bottle, while James danced around him with ease. Kirk turned out to be a really cool guy; laid-back and easy to chat with. Eventually, Cliff and Leanne joined us, hauling in a crate of beers that we gladly shared among the four of us.

When the beer stash ran dry, I volunteered to restock. I cruised to the kitchen, where I found James slouched at the table, his head buried in his arms, the vodka bottle now empty and cast aside at his feet.

"Ah, there you are," he mumbled, his voice slurred, and his eyes a bit blurry as he caught sight of me.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, a tad concerned by his condition. He shrugged. "Do you want some water?"

He grumbled, and I interpreted it as a "yes." Scouting around the cabinets, I found a glass and filled it with water. James promptly downed it, grimacing, his eyes blinking and honing in on my face.

"And you? Don't you need a bit of water too?"

"I'm fine," I furrowed my brow, even though I felt a bit lightheaded from the amount of beer I'd drank. "I just came to snag more beer for us. You should join. By the way, where's Lars?"

"In the bathroom," James grumbled, then he hoisted himself up, clutching the back of the chair for balance. I placed a hand on his back, trying to assist. He scowled. "You said you came to get more beer?"

"Yeah, any idea where it is?"

He pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where some cases of beer were stacked near the stove. I grabbed one of the packs, tossing it onto the table. James nabbed one of the beers, popping it open.

"James, maybe you should take a breather," I suggested, and he snorted.

"Why?" he asked, staring at me with a furrowed brow, his blue eyes defiant. "I've been waiting for weeks to see you, and now that you're here, you don't even want to be near me. At least drinking makes it a little more fun for me."

I blinked, my mouth opening in surprise as I tried to process what James had just said. It's not like I was angry, annoyed or avoiding James at all, but the worry about Dave and my parents reappearing in my life made it a bit harder to enjoy myself this time. However, for James to think that had anything to do with him? That wasn't right.

"This has nothing to do with you," I uttered in a low voice. He approached, his brow furrowed, placing the open beer on the table. "I don't want you to think..."

"Think what? That you're done being my friend?" he took another step closer, and I backed up, hitting the cold wall. He rested one hand on the wall, leaning down so his face was at the same level as mine. My heart squeezed seeing the anguish in his eyes. "Since you moved to Los Angeles, we hardly see each other anymore. You not into me anymore?"

"Don't say that," I whispered, my voice trembling, my eyes filling with tears hearing the bitterness in his voice. As complicated as things were, the last thing I wanted was for my friends to think I didn't want to be with them. "James, this isn't fair..."

And then he kissed me. 

Maybe I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I should've picked up on the closeness and tension that had been steadily building between us since the day he first laid eyes on me. All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible. 

Something like a kiss.

Instead, there he was, his body pinning mine against the wall, his hands cradling my face, his lips moving against mine with a desperate hunger I never thought I'd find in his arms. For a moment, all I could feel was him —his scent, his body, his kiss. But my blissful confusion lasted no more than a few seconds before it was replaced by panic: this wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. We were friends. I had a boyfriend.

I shoved my hands against his chest, giving him a solid push. He pulled back abruptly, his blue eyes showing a hint of sobriety as he took in my state—my face all red, breath coming quick as my heart raced, and my stomach filled with a million butterflies. For a beat, it was just us, his eyes glued to mine in a mix of confusion and ecstasy, before anger started bubbling up in my chest, ready to explode. I shook my head, in disbelief, and stormed out of the kitchen in a burst of rage that seemed to leave him bewildered.

I sprinted past Cliff, Leanne, and Kirk, barely registering the surprised looks they shot my way as I bolted to the front of the house. I plopped down on the curb, my breath coming quick, almost in a state of panic as I desperately searched my pockets for my pack of cigarettes and lighter. When I finally found them, it was useless; my hands were shaking so much, my breath all over the place as I tried to hold back tears, that I just couldn't light my cigarette.

"Nore? Shit, what happened?" I heard Cliff ask. I looked up to see that he had followed me and was standing beside me, staring at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Cliff..." I began, my voice shaking. He settled beside me, taking my hand in his, gripping it firmly while his eyes scanned my face, genuine concern etched on his features. "Cliff, James..."

"Did you guys have a fight?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I sniffled, shaking my head.

"Cliff, he kissed me," I murmured, suddenly feeling like I was 15 again, talking to Cliff on the phone about some boy from school who had broken my heart. His eyes widened at my words, his incredulous expression slowly being replaced by one of anger.

"And why are you crying like this? Did he force you? I'll beat the crap out of him..." he growled, letting go of my hand and starting to stand up.

"Cliff, no!" I exclaimed, tugging him by the hand. He looked at me, confused. "He didn't force me. It just happened out of nowhere. I just... Cliff, I have Dave. I never thought James..."

"You didn't know he liked you? Nore, that was kind of obvious," he interrupted, and I groaned in frustration.

"It's not that! Cliff, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want him to think... I just wanted to be friends with him. Why do things have to be so complicated?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears again. Cliff stared at me for a moment before sitting back down beside me with a sigh. He pulled me close into a hug, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"First, let's go back to the party, and I'll get you some water, okay? We can talk to James later if we need to. But knowing him... If you left like that, I doubt he'll want to talk about it."

Cliff was more right than I thought; when we got back to the party, James was nowhere to be found. I tried to cheer up, especially for Leanne and Cliff, but it was useless. I spent the rest of the day worried about James, wondering where he might be, and if I had hurt him beyond repair.

When the party wrapped up, Cliff, Leanne, and I hopped into a taxi to Leanne's house. I had left my motorcycle in Joe's garage and planned to swing by the next day to grab it before heading back to Los Angeles. I tried to perk up as Leanne and Cliff enthusiastically decided what to order for dinner, but not even a hot shower was enough to lift my spirits; I was more intoxicated than I wanted, concerned about my friend, and trying to ignore how the feeling of his lips on mine kept replaying in my head every five minutes, which basically made me want to die.

"You don't need to worry about him. He'll show up," Cliff assured me later, after we had finished off the pizza Lea had ordered for dinner. The news was playing on the TV, and I could hear the water running in the bathroom as Lea took a shower, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of those things. "I mean, he could already be home... I tried calling, but I think Lars and Kirk must have passed out as soon as they got there."

"What am I gonna do, Cliff?" I asked, softly. I was totally lost. Now that all the lines in my friendship with James had blown up in my face, I didn't know what to do — and I didn’t want to deal with any of it. There was already too much on my mind. But I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, either.

Cliff didn't say anything; in fact, I don't think he knew what to say. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight hug. I sighed, shutting my eyes, trying to soak up that brief moment of calm. Wishing it could magically wipe away the ache in my heart — even though I knew it couldn't.