#the universe was supposed to be full of wonderful people doing wonderful things he wasn't supposed to be battling the darkness alone

[lostfracturess]

REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO

pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?

word count — 9.5 k

genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language

author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)

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The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.

Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.

"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."

The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.

"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.

Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...

Well.

You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.

Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.

"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"

Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped. 

But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.

He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.

Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”

Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.

Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."

The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.

Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.

"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here." 

But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.

"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."

Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."

You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"

"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”

Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.

“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"

"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."

Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."

"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."

"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."

You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.

Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache. 

It was going to be a very long weekend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"

"Ah, I don't really—"

"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."

Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."

And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.

But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely. 

He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.

"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.

"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.

Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.

The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively. 

"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"

"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"

Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.

"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.

The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.

But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.

"Incoming!"

You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.

You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.

Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance. 

His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.

The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.

You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.

Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table. 

You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.

"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.

"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"

"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.

"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.

"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table. 

Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual. 

Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—

Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.

When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never ever I ever" and so it was decided.

Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.

"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."

You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.

A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller. 

"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.

"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."

"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."

Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.

"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"

You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."

"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"

"Must just have one of those faces."

He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.

But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.

Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.

You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.

This weekend was going to be a long one.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing. 

Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.

You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.

You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."

"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."

"Oh?"

"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."

Your heart stopped.

"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"

"Stop," you whispered.

"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"

You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."

"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."

Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"

Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"

"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”

"You're mocking me."

"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—" 

"It was just one night," you interrupted.

"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl. 

"Does it matter?" you asked.

"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"

You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many. 

You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before. 

"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table. 

You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.

"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.

You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.

He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.

"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."

"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."

"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.

"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.

"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.

You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."

"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.

"Dreams?" Nobara asked.

"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."

You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.

"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.

"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.

Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.

"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh. 

Okay, nope this had to end now.

"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.

"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.

"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."

You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.

When is this weekend going to end?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"

"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."

The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.

You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.

My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.

"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"

If only she knew. "Sure."

"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!" 

Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.

You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.

You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.

The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.

You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.

"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."

You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"

"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.

He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.

"How did you—"

"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."

"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.

You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.

When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"

"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.

He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing anything."

"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"

"To see the fish.”

"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"

"I have not—"

"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”

Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."

He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"

You dunked him mid-sentence.

He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."

"You definitely deserved that."

But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.

"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."

"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."

Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."

"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."

"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.

"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"

Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"

You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"

"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.

After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue. 

You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.

During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.

Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.

The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).

But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.

He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.

He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner. 

Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.

Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses. 

He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part? 

It was working. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.

"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."

"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.

"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.

"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—

"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.

"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.

"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."

"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.

"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."

Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real. 

The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.

You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.

"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.

"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.

"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"

You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.

"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.

"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."

Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."

"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.

You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass. 

God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into. 

Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face. 

That sick bastard.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.

That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.

Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.

"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"

"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".

"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."

He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"

"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"

He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."

You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.

"What are you talking about? It was only one night."

"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."

"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."

"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."

"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."

"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.

"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"

The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.

"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.

His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."

And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.

It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.

"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.

His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.

"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."

You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."

"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"

You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.

But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.

You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.

He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.

Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.

And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.

When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.

"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"

You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.

"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.

"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."

"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."

Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.

You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).

You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.

When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.

"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.

"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this." 

Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.

"What makes you think I'll use it?"

"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."

You shoved his shoulder. "Stop." 

He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.

"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.

"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.

"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.

"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."

You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."

"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."

"Those don't count.”

"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."

"Is that your way of asking me out?"

"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"

"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"

Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."

"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."

"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.

The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.

The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.

A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and  lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!

for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.

if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga

@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan

@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu

@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[genderqueerpond]

the main difference between five and eleven is that five started out believing that he was terrible and gradually, slowly, almost to his dismay, learned that he was also great; and eleven started out believing unshakeably that he was great and then slowly, gradually, almost to his relief, learned that he was also terrible.

(this fallout is also the difference between six and twelve.)

[inbarfink]

Okay, so here’s the thing….

We are still at a very early point in the narrative of ‘Fionna and Cake’ and therefore at a very early point in Simon’s character arc. It’s pretty clear that “I need to become Ice King again” is not the end point by any meaning of the word. But I am wondering where we’re going to go with this, cause… The series has yet to really tackle how miserable Ice King himself was a lot of the time. And how often he hurt people. 

Like, yes, I was an advent advocates for 'trying to bring back Simon Petrikov was a really really Bad Idea on Betty's part, it was more healthy to focus on making sure Ice King was as happy and healthy and harmless as he could be', but I am also fully aware that he started the show being both extremely lonely and extremely sad and also a serial kidnapper who was very much a danger to those around him. And as much progress as he made during the show, getting Ice King to that point was a very serious struggle with a lot of backslidings and problems.

'Friends Forever' is, for example, an episode that stuck with me for a long time as a really heart-wrenching demonstration how even in that late stage, when he has buddies and people trying to seriously take care of him - Ice King was still very capable of seriously sabotaging his own relationships and hurting others and himself.

And it does make sense narratively that, like, characters like Astrid and Fionna and Cake, all of whom lack the full context of what Ice King's life was like (Fionna and Cake really just saw Simon at his worst and only got snippets of clips of Ice King and since Astrid was born after Humans came to Ooo that means she was also born after the events of ‘Come Along With Me’) all see Simon as a downgrade. Because they really don’t understand how bad Ice King was beforehand. 

And thus is does make sense that with Simon's current mental state, and how he is surrounded lately with these kinda people who never really knew Ice King and don’t really understand how terrible and miserable he could be, and now hearing that his ‘sanity’ just took away magic and whimsy from some else’s whole universe, and how it feels like the actual gods of the multiverse are telling him that he should be Ice King, that he's supposed to be Ice King....

It makes sense that he might start kinda... romanticizing that time in his life again. 

You know, the big thing about the outlook that Betty should’ve accepted Ice King as who he is rather than basically destroy herself to bring Simon back wasn't about whatever Ice King or Simon Petrikov were better or 'cooler' than the other. It was about, like, embracing change. Not obsessing about a past where things were ‘Better’ but seeing what is the best you can do with things as they are. Moving forwards.

And we all know how Simon feels about moving forwards right now…

And obviously that's a pretty bad mindset, even if it's understandable how he got there...

And honestly, if we do explicitly acknowledge that, hey! Ice King’s life was often just as much of a depressive spiral as Simon's is right now! There might be an element of… resignation in Simon’s decision. 

Because Simon's downward spiral since getting cured is not a demonstration that he was better off under the Ice Crown's curse.... But, to him, more a demonstration that he doesn't need the Crown to screw up his own life anymore.

‘Cause as both as Ice King and as good ol’ ‘sane’ Simon Petrikov he is just as capable of being lonely and depressed.

And just as capable of losing his own identity.

And just as capable of pushing his loved ones away and ruining his own life.

And just as capable of becoming a weirdo obsessive.

And just as capable of making little girls cry.

He even started kidnapping people again! That’s the Ice King Classic!

So on some level, maybe Simon is resigned to the fact he’s always going to be SOME sort of screwed up lonely sadman who hurts others. And if that is his fate, he might as well be the screwed up lonely sadman who is mostly oblivious to how sad he really is and can shoot ice from his fingertips. And his arc is going to be about realizing that, whether he is Ice King or Simon Petrikov, healing and change ARE always possible for him.

But we’re gonna have to see where it goes…

[idontliekmondays]

excerpts from a daily mail article released shortly after her arrest

When members of the Geneva High School role playing club asked 16-year-old Lindsay Souvannarath to choose a character they were expecting an elf, a sorceress or perhaps a female warrior.

But the shy, clean-cut teenager opted for a rather more unsettling choice, presenting them with a detailed pencil drawing of her chosen persona - the 'Nightmare Nazi'.

The trench coat, jackboots and gas mask were unmistakably those of an SS soldier; the skeletal hands clutching a vast dagger more akin to dark fantasy art.

Former classmates at Geneva High recall Lindsay Souvannarath as a shy, withdrawn youngster, who had few friends and instead sought out after-school groups and writing clubs to express her creative side.

But she was also prone to bouts of anger and violence - allegedly stabbing another student with a pencil in one outburst and occasionally letting slip an alarming infatuation with the Third Reich.

'On first impressions I didn't think there was anything too strange about her,' he told Daily Mail Online.

'She could be funny and intelligent but most of the time she was quiet and not very warm or outgoing.

'One year her character was a sort of Wonder Woman-type heroine, then all of sudden she tells the group she wants to be a Nazi ghost.

'You choose your species and come up with a back story. Hers was that her character was a guest from a crazy, dark Nazi universe.

'It's supposed to be a game in a medieval, fantasy setting but she would just argue if she didn't get her way.

'So we went on our quest with a robot, a couple of elves, wizards and this weird Nazi.

'Aside from the character's background he didn't do anything racist or too alarming. We didn't know about her interests at that time so we just got on with it.

Ms Szigeti recalled how Souvannarath began to idolize black-death metal bands in her mid-teens.

She became particularly infatuated with Varg Vikernes, a white supremacist musician convicted in 1994 of killing a rival guitarist and burning down three churches in Norway, describing him as 'cute' and writing essays about him.

'Her work was always dark and full of violence, there were soldiers and Nazis and all this weird stuff,' Sabrina said.

'She acted normal on the surface. She was never physically violent but she would get aggressive and upset if you criticized her.

'Everyone was uncomfortable but we just avoided trying to start a fight with her. 'If you asked her straight up 'are you a Nazi?' she would argue that she wasn't.

As far back as 2007 - when she was just 15 - she allegedly wrote 'free speech is dead' in one forum, adding: 'That's why we need people like David Duke to bring it to life again.'

In another warped entry, writing that same year under the pseudonym Snoopyfemme she wrote: 'They use sex in commercials all the time to sell products. Why don't they ever use violence?

'Wouldn't you love to see a bunch of guys tearing each other apart with machine guns to get a bowl of Cheerios?

'Sure, it might traumatize our children, but in my opinion, children aren't being traumatized enough.

'The only reason for Americans to breed is to create more soldiers to fight for freedom. We need to weed out the weaklings early on. Survival of the fittest, man.'

'She was very odd to the point among a lot of our classmates that no-one was surprised by her arrest.

'She was a very lonely person - but she isolated herself. 'From what I remember she was even suspended for stabbing someone with a pencil in middle school.'

'She was known for putting spells on people. She would do it by saying weird things and then putting on a curse - obviously we did not take her seriously.

'She would break out into laughter in the middle of class for absolutely no reason.

'When we saw that Lindsay did something like this, nobody was surprised. She was the one most likely.'

source

[tobi-smp]

absolutely nobody wants to see me rant about the end of the dream smp for one millionth time in october 2023, but the anniversary has people talking on my dash so now I'm infected with one of the same 4 thoughts I always have about the dream smp

obviously there is a Very Very large number of reasons that people have a complicated relationship with the dream smp, both in universe and out. and the worst for me are the Obvious out of universe reasons that don't need to be repeated here.

but the cake for In Universe reasons is definitely still the crimeboys ending. it was the final nail in the coffin for me back when I hadn't realized that the coffin had any more nails it could take in the first place, and it's a big part of why the parts of the series that I Do very much so enjoy are very often painful to look back on.

and this isn't because wilbur is a bad writer or a bad actor (or tommy for that matter), even at the time I had Really enjoyed the lead up to the end, even and Especially in that final stream sending wilbur off.

I had my issues of course, I haven't exactly been quiet about that, but in retrospect I Understand the circumstances much better and respect wilbur's choice to get out of there as cleanly as possible.

we still don't know Exactly what was happening behind the scenes, including and Especially with dream, but we Do know full well that dream stopped interacting with the entire rest of the server leaving countless story lines (that he'd Intentionally made himself integral to) left to dry with no way to move forwards while they waited for interaction that would never ever come.

wilbur's choice to move forwards with his send off of his character on his own terms, even with and especially Because of the clear scheduling issues, was the smartest decision he could have made considering the circumstances. I would very much so argue that his character is the Only One that got sent off with any amount of dignity largely Because he stopped playing dream's little game. and I do have to wonder if wilbur escaping the narrative wasn't inspired more by the real life circumstances at the time.

but no matter how satisfying I find it, no matter how much Good I see in it, no matter how much I respect and agree with the choice to do it, I cannot think about wilbur's ending without a Deep ache.

and it is for one single reason

he left tommy behind on purpose, this time fully with the knowledge of the situation he was leaving him behind In.

the abandonment that characters like tommy, niki, and fundy felt after the 16th are ultimately understandable ways of dealing with grief, but weren't Fair to truly hold against wilbur. wilbur didn't Leave, he didn't make the decision to allow the people important to him to be hurt in his absence. he committed suicide because he was sad.

wilbur getting on that boat, truly Knowing what dream did to tommy in a way that only tommy and dream knew, and leaving tommy alone on that beach affected me in ways that nothing else on the server ever has. and that truly is not a good thing.

now, I Think that what was likely supposed to happen is that dream was Supposed to interact with tommy regularly after the prison escape, and that that was supposed to build up to Some natural conclusion. we don't know what that conclusion would have been, but it was certainly nothing like what we got. and meanwhile wilbur's final arc was supposed to progress along side it, building Up To the logsted stream and his full understanding of the abuse dream had done and the affect it had on tommy.

we Know that at one point tommy had spoken about having a soft ending with wilbur. and After wilbur's ending actually did happen he'd mentioned that he might cameo on the server from time to time. that sounds like a soft ending to me.

it makes thematic sense, it makes sense with the pieces we got leading up to the final stream, it makes sense with the characters. and it couldn't happen, because dream refused to move any plot forwards and tommy of all characters couldn't move on without dream. again, both Thematically and because of what was happening behind the scenes.

and this is. frustrating beyond reason. that the snot genuinely poisoned one of the best aspects of the entire server because he was actively killing it but still didn't want to let go.

you can call it speculation, and it is, but this is what I believe and will continue to believe until tommy or wilbur say otherwise.

and on paper I just want to be able to say that the things that I don't like about the ending are bad because dream forced them to be bad and therefore I can just pretend like they never happened and substitute canon's reality with my own (or at the very least excuse it for being the way that it is).

and I have tried to do that ! both in chewing on the ending on its own terms And in imagining many Many ways that it could have gone differently (an activity I'm quite fond of regardless of circumstance).

but it just !

in a completely biased and nevertheless Extremely Honest word, hurt my feelings.

I cannot stop thinking about how they Intentionally set up wilbur finding out about dream abusing tommy, Made Sure to cover every base so the audience Knows that wilbur knows that it was physical, mental, and emotional abuse, Knows that wilbur is fully aware that tommy almost committed suicide, and Knows that wilbur was Deeply Emotionally Affected By This Fact.

and then had him leave. had him Plan Possibly Months Ahead Of Time. had him try to sneak off, only telling tommy the truth when he caught him by surprise and forced it out of him.

tommy opened up to somebody about exile in real honest terms for the very first time, to one of the people that he trusted the most, and that person Chose to leave him trapped with that very abuser out to get him Even Though he understood the danger and cared about him very deeply.

he knew that tommy was in danger, he knew Why tommy was in danger, and him leaving tommy behind was pre-meditated.

and it's Painful not just because of what it implies about their relationship As A Whole (because it's impossible to accept this as true without it affecting how we look back on what came before), but because those same implications makes it Impossible to imagine their relationship having a future.

people tried to play it off like a Soft Ending, like wilbur was just going to get therapy and then come back and they were just gonna hug it out and have a nice healthy relationship. and to be fair to those people, none of us could have predicted that tommy was going to be bombed and then reincarnated with none of his memories. that was Not in my predictions for the next phase of his character arc.

but, shitty sequel bait ending that everyone who cares has disavowed aside (way aside, into a deep pit to never be seen again), if I were tommy I would feel unimaginably betrayed.

where they left off is Not a place to reconnect with a healthy relationship when they're ready, because This Was A Traumatizing Event In And Of Itself.

I don't have to prove this, c!tommy proved this himself when started holing up in his house and abusing potions of invisibility both because he feels completely and totally Unsafe walking anywhere on the server when people can see him And as a relapse back into potion addiction reminiscent of his addiction post-exile.

he was at his absolute lowest point, his abuser and murderer escaped from prison ready to torment him and everyone he cares about for Literally forever. he was Desperately trying to find any form of stability, Desperately trying to reach out to for anyone he could trust, and he Intentionally opened up to someone he Did trust completely once. someone who made him feel safe, someone he trusted with his entire life.

he opened up Because he wanted that relationship, Because he wanted wilbur in his life, Because wilbur had wanted Him in His life. he wanted to cross that gap between them. he was making himself vulnerable to Extend that trust To wilbur.

and wilbur stopped talking to him for months and then left.

that's not going to do good things to his mental health or stability. tommy was Already displayed active suicidal tendencies BEFORE dream broke out of prison.

if he'd managed to kill dream for good and the characters went about their lives tommy would have to let wilbur go. rationalizing what happened, justifying wilbur's decision, would not be healthy.

he can accept that wilbur made the right decision for Himself. he can accept that Wilbur needed to leave, that Wilbur needed time to himself.

but tommy clinging on to wilbur's memory, justifying that he was left for dead with his abuser On Purpose, would not be healthy.

tommy would Need to realize that what happened wasn't okay. there Is no going back to having a relationship with wilbur. wilbur was Allowed to make the choice he did, but it Was a choice.

I can't bare to think of the alternative. where tommy is abandoned, deeply damaged by that abandonment, has to face his abuser and murderer Without someone he'd once considered a brother, and then turn around and just answer wilbur's call the moment Wilbur decides he's ready to have a relationship again.

that would just. be sad. genuinely awful.

and I can't let that go. the decisions they made were Sensible, I can see how it was necessary for wilbur to Have a proper send off when he did. there's no Satisfying way to re-imagine this series of events without it not Being the end.

but it tried to depict itself As a soft ending, As the characters having a future together, when it simply is not. if wilbur escaped the narrative then he left the people he cared about to be victims of the narrative Knowingly.

and it's frustrating Because I can see how it'd happen by accident. How the implications would be both meticulously set up and gone completely unseen.

but for my money, if I were to fix it on its own terms. with no additional screen time after, no change in the streams leading up to the end, and the understanding that tommy's story could not end at this point by necessity (the same restrictions that they had at the time)

I would have wilbur ask tommy to come with him. I'd have the reveal be that wilbur wanted to take tommy with him The Entire Time but knew that tommy was stubborn and attached to the server. but the moment he understood Exactly How Bad It Was he knew he needed to get them out of there Now.

so he did his best to hold dream off for now, and Immediately went to work setting up their escape (we don't need to understand How the portal to utah works, just that it took some time to set up).

it would recontextualize some of their earlier interactions, it would recontextualize his absence after the logsted stream, and it would recontextualize why wilbur didn't tell him until now.

and of course, because tommy has to stay (and because tommy is tommy) he refuses. he refuses not because he doesn't Want to go with wilbur (he wants to be with him more than anything, he wants to feel safe more than anything). but because he can't abandon the people on the server, because he can't let go until he knows dream is gone, because he will never ever feel safe until dream is dead.

and it can be a big dramatic blow out that Ends with that quiet awkward understanding, not with the characters being emotionally in sync but Knowing that this is how this moment has to play out. that same melancholy, that same understand that a choice is being made that can't go back, But It's Mutual.

It's Mutual And Born From Love.

because wilbur Wanted to save tommy, because tommy Wanted wilbur to stay, because they both understand why things aren't happening that way.

and they'll still be Hurt after. their relationship will still be impacted. this will still be something to Work Through rather than the magic soft fix that will make their relationship healthy and fluffy again.

but it's Fixable. if tommy survives there's a relationship still in tact to build on. there's a future where they both trust each other again one day, to find comfort and stability in each other. to put in the Work to build a life once the horror finally ends.

of course, if I had a say a lot more than this would've been changed. but it's a thought that plagues me because of how plausibly it Could have been what we'd gotten. because it would have worked without changing anything and it still would have hurt me at the time but it would have been the Good hurt. not a goodbye forever but goodbye until I can see you again. Goodbye And I Love You.

(at least until tommy got exploded with a bomb and forgot that wilbur existed. yippie)

[roxannarichie]

The Anomaly | Miguel O’Hara

Someone on my google formed asked me the inspiration for “Anomaly” and this TikTok video/ audio inspired me. For a week I just was infatuated with Miguel character and then after watching this video, I felt bad for him.

CHAPTER TWO: FIVE SENSES

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of arousal

Miguel walks through the pixelated portal into a seemingly normal world. Observing his surroundings, it was two hours away from midnight. He gazed at the device on his wrist. In this world, it was 2023, New York City— instead of Nueva City like in his universe—10:47 pm. The device vibrated, alarming Miguel of the location of the anomaly. He hummed to himself, there was no way this woman was out at night this late— in New York City.

Knowing that this woman was not Spider-woman in her world made him wonder who was? This also meant it wasn’t smart to just snatch her off the street…

That is what you would think Miguel would have thought but no, he literally was planning to snatch her up, paralyze her with his teeth and take her back to HQ for tests and questioning. Staying in the shadow, he follows the anomaly. Spotting the anomaly, he tilted his head to the side. She was exiting what seemed to be karaoke club. She was smiling and laughing at whoever was on the other side of the door. She waved at the unknown person and walks to a light and cross the street and coming down the street he was on.

“Buena niña, coming right into my we“ Miguel wavered. As he inhaled he was overcome by an immense amount of… he didn’t even know what to call it. It’s was strange. Miguel has never in his life, no matter the universe smelled something so…good. His heart began to pick up pace, his breath was short and his forehead had a brand new layer of sweat. He quickly climbed down and back into the alleyway, where he first appeared. His eyes wide under his mask, why was he shaking. His body trembled and he felt a knot and a burning sensation in his belly. He held his underbelly as the sensation swelled. He groans in confusion, “W-what the fuck–“

He moaned as another wave of sensation came over him, the smell was getting closer. He didn’t even know if this was supposed to be painful, he gasped as he felt the blood rushing not only to his face but to—

“Hello? Is someone back here.” A voice of a woman, who he knew was the anomaly called into the dark alleyway. As her smell got closer and more suffocating, the more woozy, he became. He felt blood fall down his mouth and on to the floor. He would absolutely not let this be how the anomaly saw him. “Stay back!”

He yelled at her, a trowel from deep in his throat came out. “But you smell funny..” She replied. This caused Miguel to think, this affect on him must be something that only happens in the universe. He already has heightened senses but it seemed everyone on this earth emitted a large and noticeable amount of smell. He finally noticed the lingering smell of other people that didn’t seems to affect him much. He turned to look at her face but his vision was blurry, shit.

Was he about to pass out? there’s no way? His body leaned over, slowly loses his senses, and he loses consciousness.

*

His hearing was the first thing he gained back and he was rewarded with a constant beeping sound...What is that noise? The first thing he saw was a white ceiling and an IV line. He slightly shivered as he felt the cold air. Observing his surroundings, he laid eyes on her. The anomaly...

Hearing his movement, she looked over to see him staring at her. “Yr’awake, how do you feel?”

Now that his vision was no longer blurry, he got a great view of her face, a spider's view. She had big brown eyes and big auburn curly hair. She has a dimple on her left check that appeared even if she wasn't smiling and showing her pearly whites. Her dimples were accompanied with a round face and a little baby fat on her round high cheeks that didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Her lips where full and... inviting, no! If he had seen her on the street he would have most definitely not have thought she was twenty-five years old. As all his senses returned panic began to rise as he realized he was in a hospital. His hand ran over his face, he exhaled a breathe of relief when he felt his mask was still in place, “I made sure no one touched the mask, gotta be a reason you wearin’ one.” Miguel noticed the accent as his body started to calm itself down, the accent then explained the reason for the odd name. “Who are you?” she asked.

It seemed she had not taken a peak under his mask, at least she has integrity. “Miguel.” He answered plainly

“What happened?” he asked referring to the event that caused him to lose his pride and consciousness. He looked over at her waiting for an answer. “You don't know, that strange, everyone know—”

“I'm not from here.”

Willow was confused, even if he wasn't from New York, he would still know what happen to him because this isn't a cultural thing, it's a biological reaction.

“Ion understand, did your parents shelter you or sumthin’?” She have him a odd look as if he was the weird one. “No– how am I going to explain this..” he looked over at his wrist.

“Oh wow that looks advanced.” Willows interests were peaked as she watched his type something into his ‘watch’. Miguel groaned internally has it turned off the “do not disturb” button, he was about to hear a mouth full from Lyla.

“If I was human I would put you in a watch for over 12 hours and lock you away so you know how it felt to be in a watch. Do you know how nerve wreaking it is to be able to have access to you vitals and to watch you go unconscious and not being able to do noth— oh my gosh it's the anomaly– hi!” Lyla rants until she finally noticed the woman on the other bed, Lyla frantically waves at Willow with a big smile. Willow hesitantly waved back.

“Can you please explain what goin’ and who you people are?” Willow asked, she had never seen something so futurist. Miguel sighe, Lyla gave him a knowing look. He hated this part of the job...

“My name....is Miguel O’Hara. I lead an elite strike force dedicated to the security of the multiverse…”

Previously | Next

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[vasilinaorlova]

I bought an empanada from an oven at a cafe and sat in the corner. There was nobody in the cafe, except for me. As I ate the empanada, I noticed that it was dry because it dried in that oven where it probably spent hours before I bought it. The empanada was tasteless and resembled cardboard. A guy from the counter approached me and put on the table a brown package. I said, what is it, are you closing? He said, no, this is an empanada for you, because that empanada that was from the oven... I don't want you to waste your money.

I thanked him and accepted his gift of another empanada. I packed what I haven't eaten and retreated. I was uncomfortable that he paid attention that the first empanada was dry. Was I not supposed to eat it? Sure, it did not taste like anything, but did that matter? The thing still was relatively edible? Even though I was not hungry, I opened the second empanada right away on the street, out of curiosity. I was wondering how different the normal empanada was supposed to be from the first empanada that became its own dry shadow.

However, the second empanada was raw. It consisted of a raw dough and a mess of a chicken that had one thing going for it: it positively wasn't dry. Nevertheless, I was very grateful to have my day full of empanadas, two, not one, so different from each other, and for the kind guy who actually cared that the first empanada was dry and wanted to make it better. His action did make my day, and the rest of the universe, a little better than they were before, in my eyes. There was some space for kindness in some corners, after all. What is more to it, there were plenty of such corners, moments, and people, more than we were willing to acknowledge.

"That is such a New York story," my friend Tasia said when I told her about two empanadas. "Everything is undercooked and overbaked, and everyone is wanting to do better, but nobody can do anything about anything... It is just what it is, in this world, on that street, and in that cafe." I loved how Tasia always had such precise words for everything.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Everything is Fine - Hendery x Reader ONESHOT

Pairing: Hendery x Reader

Word Count: 7,694

Warnings: thriller, being held against your will(?), obsessive behavior

Summary: 🎃 Halloween Special 🎃 Y/n attends a Halloween party with her friends, but what starts as a normal night starts to feel...off. But luckily the party's host is there to keep her company, right?

A/N: Was I inspired by Hendery's goofy ass Halloween costume from 2021...no did I add it into the plot anyways...yes this is not the first Hendery fic I've written, but it IS the first I've posted. I had this idea for a while now, just chilling in my head, and I thought it would be perfect to write for a Halloween special, cause slay! I hope you enjoy this one, as I enjoyed writing it 💚

-

The music pulsed through the crowded house, a deep bassline that vibrated in Y/n’s chest as she stood near the entrance, scanning the room. People were laughing, their costumes a wild mix of horror and humor, faces painted with skulls, fake blood, and cheap masks. She hadn’t really wanted to come, but her friend had insisted, dragging her along to the supposed biggest Halloween party of the year at some random University dudes house.

Y/n adjusted the sleeves of her costume, feeling a bit out of place but determined to enjoy the night. She clutched her cup, already half-empty with some brightly colored concoction she didn’t recognize. It was strong, judging by the slight buzz that tingled at the edges of her mind. 

It wasn't that Y/n wasn’t a party person, she actually enjoyed parties every now and then. But today was just an off day for her.

Her friend had already disappeared into the crowd, leaving Y/n to fend for herself. She wasn’t sure what to do next, join the throng on the makeshift dance floor, or maybe find a corner and people-watch. The place was nice, though. Too nice, really. The grand entryway and the wide, high-ceilinged rooms made her feel like she had stepped into a mansion. It seemed way too luxurious for just a Halloween party. 

But, everything was fine. 

She took a sip from her cup, trying to focus on the laughter around her, the clinking of glasses, and the chatter of the partygoers. No need to be so tense, she told herself. This was supposed to be fun. 

Her eyes drifted to the far end of the room, where a figure stood motionless against the wall, dressed in a fully black, head-to-toe bodysuit. White details were cut out in the shape of a face. Hollow, exaggerated features that made it impossible to tell where his eyes were, or if he was even looking at her. The stark contrast of the white against the black made him stand out, but the whole costume had this funny, slightly absurd edge to it. Looking down the persons hand, they were holding a prop wrench.

She couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. Maybe some abstract ghost? A shadow something-or-other? The costume was strange, but in the middle of a Halloween party full of zombies and witches, it wasn’t the strangest thing. And for some reason, it made her smile. 

She wasn’t sure if they were watching her, or just looking out at the crowd in general. It was unnerving not being able to see their eyes. But the stillness in their posture and the odd costume made them feel almost harmless in a weird way. She chuckled to herself, wondering what their deal was.

"Hey," someone suddenly called from her left, interrupting her thoughts. Her friend waved from across the room, holding up another drink. “You having fun yet?”

Y/n nodded, though she wasn’t so sure. "Yeah, it’s...good."

Her friend just nodded, her donkey ears shaking as she did, before disappearing into the crowd again. 

Y/n couldn’t quite remember when she had signed up for a Shrek-themed group costume with her friends, but at that moment, it hardly mattered. She stood there in a green dress with gold accents, along with a cute tiara, a striking nod to Princess Fiona, and embraced the whimsical absurdity of it all.

And yet, as she looked around, something felt...just a little bit off. Not enough to notice right away, but there was a tension in the air, a subtle shift, like a wrong note in a song. She shook it off, blaming it on the alcohol.

It was just a Halloween party, after all. Everything was fine. 

-

Another hour passed, and with it, another few drinks. Y/n felt lighter now, her head pleasantly fuzzy as the alcohol took hold. The nerves that had tightened her shoulders earlier had loosened, and she found herself swaying to the music, even though the beat wasn’t steady. Was it always this off-key? It didn’t matter. Everything felt a little blurry, like the edges of the room had softened.

Her thoughts wandered as she moved, the rhythm of the crowd pulling her in, and for a while, she forgot about the oddness that had nagged at her earlier. The drinks helped with that. She smiled as her friend passed by, throwing an arm around her shoulder for a moment before disappearing again into the crowd of people.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

Yet, there was still this slight undercurrent of wrongness that tugged at her every now and then. The laughter around her seemed a little too loud at times, and the way the people moved, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was...not right. The way their bodies swayed or turned, it almost felt like they were moving in fast-forward for a second, then slowing down again. Or maybe it was just her imagination. 

Blame it on the drinks, she told herself, letting out a breath. 

She glanced back toward the far end of the room, expecting to see that strange guy in the black bodysuit still standing there. But this time, they weren’t. She blinked, scanning the area. Where had they gone? She wasn’t sure why she felt relieved, and maybe a little disappointed at the same time. 

Shaking her head, she let the music take her again. Whatever, it was just a party. She was just tipsy, that was all.

Y/n swayed to the music, her movements a little uncoordinated but carefree as the alcohol kept her in a pleasant haze. The room spun lazily around her, bodies pressed close in the crowd, everyone lost in their own rhythm. She moved with them, letting herself be carried by the pulse of the party.

As she took a step back, her elbow suddenly collided with something, someone. She spun around, an apology already forming on her lips. 

"Oh, sorry!" she blurted out, laughing at her clumsiness.

Her words caught in her throat when she looked up. It was them, the guy in the black bodysuit, the one with the cut-out white face details. They stood just inches away from her now, the hollow, featureless face of his costume staring back at her. 

For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to react. She couldn’t see their eyes, couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or through her. But they didn’t move. Didn’t speak. They just stood there, completely still, and she couldn’t shake the odd sensation that rolled over her. It was like hitting a wall, cold and unyielding.

"Uh, I…sorry again," Y/n mumbled, her voice a bit more hesitant this time.

They didn’t respond. But then, slowly, they tilted their head just a fraction to the side, as if acknowledging her apology. Or was it a question? It was hard to tell.

She gave a small, awkward smile, stepping back a bit to create space. “Cool costume,” she added, trying to fill the silence, though her nerves spiked slightly. The longer she looked at them, the more surreal they felt. Why had they shown up so suddenly? Had they been watching her?

Just as Y/n was about to turn away, the figure suddenly spoke. 

“Thanks,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, cutting through the noise around them.

She froze for a second. She hadn’t expected him to speak at all, let alone sound so... normal. Something about hearing that voice from beneath the eerie costume threw her off balance. The alcohol must have made her slower to react, because instead of feeling uneasy, she found herself chuckling softly.

“Oh…uh, yeah, no problem,” she said, her words slipping out a little too casually. She shook her head, amused by how surprised she’d been. It was just a costume, after all. 

“You look shocked..” The figure said. 

“You…talk,” she said, laughing at her own words. It sounded ridiculous as soon as it came out, but the tension that had built up in her chest loosened, and she shook her head. "I didn't expect that."

He breathed out a small laugh. "Why wouldn’t I?" he asked, the tone neutral but almost amused. 

Y/n shrugged, unable to stop herself from smiling now. “I dunno. You just look…mysterious.” She waved a hand vaguely at his suit, the white face details still making it impossible for her to gauge where he was actually looking. "Like you’re not supposed to talk, y’know?"

“Maybe I’m not,” he said, his words lingering in the air like the punchline of an inside joke only he understood. There was a slight edge to his voice, one that almost reminded her of a line from some old thriller movie she couldn’t quite remember.

She snorted, her smile widening. “Creepy,” she teased, feeling the warmth of the alcohol surge again, making her brave enough to play along with whatever strange game this was. 

Y/n tilted her head, the alcohol still making everything feel just a little blurry. “So…what exactly are you supposed to be?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Detective Conan Killer.”

She raised her eyebrows, the name only vaguely familiar. “Huh. Okay, didn’t expect that.” She smiled, trying to piece together what she remembered about the reference, but her brain was too foggy to connect the dots.

“And you,” he added, “Princess Fiona, right?”

Y/n blinked in surprise. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

He gave a subtle nod toward her dress, mirroring Princess Fiona’s iconic look. “Kind of hard to miss. Besides, I’m pretty sure I saw a donkey and a ginger cat running around earlier. Looks like your friends have the rest of the theme covered.”

She laughed, the mental image of her friends dressed as Donkey and Puss in Boots running around the party too funny not to. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she said, shaking her head with a grin. “I don’t even remember when I agreed to this whole Shrek theme, but here I am, dressed like a princess.”

“You wear it well,” he said simply, his voice carrying that same calm that somehow made her feel both at ease and slightly on edge.

Feeling a burst of confidence, Y/n extended her hand with a playful grin. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Should have said that eailer”

He chuckled softly, a sound that somehow felt warm. “Nice to meet you too, Y/n. I’m Hendery, the host of the party.”

With that, he reached up and carefully removed the headpiece of his bodysuit, peeling it away to reveal his face. Y/n blinked in surprise, taking a moment to process the sudden shift. Underneath the stark black fabric, he looked completely normal, just a guy with tousled hair and an easy smile. Well, normal was an understatement, he was fucking gorgous. 

“Wow, you actually are a normal person,” she said, a laugh escaping her lips. “I wasn’t sure if you were some sort of spooky thing under there or something or something.” 

Hendery grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Just a regular guy having a bit of fun. But the costume does add a bit of mystery, don’t you think?” 

“Definitely,” Y/n replied, her heart racing a little faster. The tension she felt earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced by a lightness that came with getting to know the host of the party. 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile. ���It’s good to put a face to the mystery,” she said, her gaze softening as she took in the features of the guy who had been standing in the shadows. 

Hendery raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I aim to surprise.”

She laughed, feeling the weight of the strange atmosphere lift just a little more. “Well, you succeeded. I think I’ll grab another drink,” she said, glancing back at Hendery. “Want anything?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “I’m good for now. Enjoy.”

“Alright, be right back!” she called over her shoulder as she made her way through the crowd, the buzz of laughter and chatter enveloping her once more. 

As she stepped into the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The sounds of the party faded into a muffled background hum, and the bright fluorescent lights illuminated the room, making it feel a bit more grounded compared to the dim, shadowy corners of the main area. 

She opened the fridge, scanning the contents. A kaleidoscope of drinks stared back at her, sodas, juices, and a few more bottles of alcohol. After grabbing a sparkling drink she could barely read the label of, she poured it into a cup and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to catch her breath.

It felt good to be away from the crowd of bodies, even for just a moment. She took a sip, the refreshing fizz tingling on her tongue, and let herself think about Hendery. There was something intriguing about him, something that both drew her in and kept her on her toes. 

As Y/n took another sip of her drink, she glanced around the kitchen, noticing a few other partygoers scattered about. But something felt...off. The people weren’t moving. They stood too still, frozen in place like statues, their conversations muted and their faces blank, as if they were waiting for something. 

Her brow furrowed as unease crept into her chest. It was subtle at first, a strange tightness that made her shift uncomfortably where she stood. The longer she looked, the stranger it became. The way they stood, so stiff and lifeless, made her skin prickle. One person by the sink seemed to be holding a cup, but they weren’t doing anything. Not drinking, not pouring, nothing. Another sat at the table, staring straight ahead, not blinking. 

She blinked hard, rubbing her eyes, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Maybe it was just the alcohol messing with her vision. Or maybe she had stayed too long in this room, away from the noise and energy of the main party. But no matter how much she tried to reason with herself, the atmosphere was wrong. 

The air felt too thick, the silence in the room too deep, and the stillness of the people too unnatural. She swallowed hard, the bad feeling now settling low in her stomach.

“...What the fuck…” she muttered under her breath, feeling a sudden urge to leave the kitchen.

Without wasting another second, she took her drink and quickly made her way back toward the living room, the once-familiar-ish hallway now feeling a bit longer, a bit darker, as she hurried through it. 

The thrum of the music and the lively chatter washed over her again, a welcome contrast to the unnerving silence she’d just escaped.

When she spotted Hendery, relief washed over her. He was exactly where she’d left him, standing by the wall, casual and calm, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed the party around him. His presence felt solid, normal. 

“There you are,” she breathed, feeling a bit of tension release from her shoulders as she approached him. His smile widened when he saw her.

“Back already? That was quick,” he teased lightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

Y/n tried to smile back, but something in her chest still felt tight. She glanced around the room, scanning the crowd, but the strange feeling from the kitchen lingered. “Yeah...I, uh...” She hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know, man, something feels weird. Like, really weird.”

He wiped his head around to her, his eyes sharpening. “Weird how?”

She took a breath, trying to steady herself. “I was in the kitchen, and everyone in there was just...off. Like, too still. It was freaky. And the more I think about it, the more this whole place feels wrong. Not your house or anything! But…the party, the people, something’s not right.” Her voice wavered a little as she spoke, the uneasy sensation creeping back into her chest.

Hendery listened quietly, his expression calm as ever, though his gaze never left her. “Too still, huh?” he said softly, as if testing the words. “I guess I can see how that might feel...strange.”

She rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort. “I mean, maybe it’s just the drinks, or the fact that this place feels like a maze, but...I don’t know. I can’t shake the feeling.” Her eyes flicked to the room again. People were moving, sure, but every now and then she caught sight of someone lingering too long in one place, staring for just a second too long. The subtle wrongness nagged at her.

Hendery stepped a little closer, his presence reassuring despite her growing anxiety. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m sure everything is fine,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “You’re with me now. Just breathe.” His smile was warm, his calmness wrapping around her like a safety net.

For a moment, Y/n let herself relax, trusting his soothing words, though that nagging feeling at the back of her mind refused to fully disappear. Something was wrong, but standing next to Hendery, she felt just a little bit safer. 

Sensing her unease, Hendery gently placed a hand on her arm. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you out of here for a bit.”

Before she could respond, he began leading her through the crowd, his touch light but steady. Y/n followed him, grateful for the escape, weaving past partygoers as they made their way to a side hallway she hadn’t noticed before. The noise of the party started to fade, replaced by the softer sounds of their footsteps as Hendery guided her into a smaller living room tucked away from the chaos.

The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from a nearby lamp casting a warm, golden light across the space. Unlike the main area, this room felt quieter, untouched by the buzzing energy of the party. It was almost peaceful.

“There,” Hendery said, nodding toward a plush couch. “Take a breather.”

Y/n sank onto the couch, letting out a long exhale. The stillness of the room was a welcome relief, a stark contrast to the strange, unsettling energy outside. She hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d been wound until now.

Hendery sat beside her, not too close but near enough to offer comfort. “I figured you might need a break. Parties can get overwhelming.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, rubbing her temples. “I just...everything out there feels so off. I don’t know how to explain it. Sorry.”

Hendery nodded, watching her carefully. “It happens. Sometimes these things just hit you out of nowhere.” His voice was soothing, calm as ever. “But you’re safe here.”

She glanced at him, his reassuring presence making her feel grounded again, if only for a moment. “Thanks, Hendery,” she said, her voice a little quieter now. “I don’t know why, could be the drinks, but I feel better around you.”

He smiled softly, his expression as warm and untroubled as ever. “Good. You deserve to feel better.”

For a brief second, Y/n let herself relax into the couch, the comfort of the quiet room, and the sense of safety Hendery gave her. But as she sat there, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder why the rest of the house felt so...wrong.

As they settled into the quiet of the small living room, Y/n leaned back into the couch, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort. Hendery, sensing her tension, shifted in his seat and grinned playfully.

“So,” he began, “you like me costume, Detective Conan Killer, huh?” Hendery suddenly asked. A little confused, Y/n chuckled a little and nodded.

“Honestly, I didn’t think many people would get the costume. I decided I’d have to explain it all night. But hey, at least I’m not dressed as something worse, like...I don’t know, a sexy traffic cone.”

Y/n couldn’t help but snort, the mental image instantly brightening her mood. “Yeah, definitely dodged a bullet there.”

He nodded, pretending to look deep in thought. “Or imagine me as a giant banana. It’d be hard to look mysterious in that, wouldn’t it? I'd be slipping up everywhere.”

She chuckled, finally relaxing a bit. “Yeah, I think the spooky bodysuit of a killer was the right call.”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin. “Plus, how many people can say they’ve been mildly freaked out by a guy who looks like a walking shadow? It’s an experience, right?”

Y/n laughed again, this time more freely. Hendery’s lightheartedness was starting to break through the eerie cloud that had been hovering over her.

“And speaking of costumes,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, “I gotta say, Fiona suits you. You’ve got the princess vibe down…minus the whole ‘turning into an ogre at night’ thing, I hope.”

“Hey, don’t jinx me,” she shot back with a grin. “You never know what could happen after midnight.”

“Oh no,” he said, eyes wide in mock horror. “If I see you start sprouting green ears, I’m out of here. But, for now, you’re safe. Just keep your ogre side in check.”

Y/n laughed harder than she had all night, the weight on her shoulders easing with every joke. Hendery had a knack for saying the right thing, for diffusing the strange tension that had been gnawing at her.

“See?” Hendery said, smiling at her. “Laughter works wonders. A little humor goes a long way.”

She shook her head, still chuckling. “Yeah, you’re right. You’ve definitely got a talent for making things feel less weird.”

He winked. “I’m just here to entertain, milady.”

As Y/n’s laughter died down, she noticed the way Hendery’s smile lingered, his eyes never leaving hers. The playful light in his gaze shifted slightly, softening into something warmer.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “the Fiona costume is great, but I think it’s not just the dress that makes it work.” His gaze traveled over her, a subtle admiration in his eyes. “You’ve got this...presence. You light up the room. I noticed it the second you walked in.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. “Oh, um...thanks,” she replied, feeling a bit of heat rise to her cheeks. The playful air between them seemed to shift slightly, becoming charged with something else entirely.

Hendery leaned in just a little, still maintaining that easy smile. “I mean it. You’ve been hard to miss all night. Even in a crowd like this.” His voice was smoother now, the teasing edge replaced by something more sincere. “I’m glad we got a chance to talk.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered unexpectedly at his words, and she shifted in her seat, her earlier discomfort momentarily forgotten. “I didn’t think I stood out that much,” she said, her voice lighter, almost shy.

Hendery chuckled softly. “Trust me, you do. There’s something about you that...well, let’s just say I’m not the only one who noticed.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I’m glad I’m the one sitting here with you now.”

His gaze lingered on her face, the intensity in his eyes making her stomach do a little flip. The easy jokes had given way to a more personal, almost magnetic energy. It was like the rest of the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them in this quiet, dimly lit room.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “I’ve never been a big fan of loud parties, but I think this one’s turning out pretty well, don’t you?”

Y/n felt her pulse quicken at his words, the warmth in his tone sending a soft thrill through her. “Yeah,” she murmured, her lips curling into a small smile. “I think so too.”

Hendery’s smile grew, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned back a bit, still holding onto that teasing charm. “Good. Because I’d hate to think you’re not having fun...especially when I’m trying so hard to make it a night you won’t forget.”

As Y/n smiled at his comment, Hendery shifted a little closer, his leg brushing against hers. The warmth of the contact sent a subtle shiver up her spine, and she became acutely aware of the small space between them, too small now, and growing smaller with every second.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “I was hoping to meet you tonight...”

She could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering, making her pulse quicken. He wasn’t just being playful anymore, there was a seriousness in his tone that made the air between them feel thick, charged with something new. She met his eyes, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world blurred into the background. There was just Hendery, closer now, his attention fully on her.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked, her voice quieter, the playfulness in her tone replaced by curiosity, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She felt her heart beat faster in her chest, each thump in sync with the growing tension in the room.

Hendery’s smile turned into something softer, but more intense, like he was seeing her in a way no one else had all night. “I mean…not to sound weird, but I’ve seen you around. You’re...captivating.”

Her breath hitched at the word. Captivating. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol still buzzing in her system, or the way Hendery was looking at her, but the room suddenly felt warmer, the space between them shrinking further. 

He reached up, lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers grazing her skin just enough to leave a trail of warmth in their wake. “I can’t help but want to know more about you,” he said, his voice now just above a whisper, the intimacy in his words making her stomach flip.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she looked into his eyes, dark, intense, and focused entirely on her. The goofy guy in the black suit had disappeared, replaced by someone who was completely present, and entirely interested in her. She could feel the tension between them now, palpable and electric, like the air just before a storm.

“I...” she started, her voice trailing off as she tried to steady her racing heart. But it was hard to focus on anything other than the way his gaze was drawing her in, making it harder to think clearly.

Hendery leaned in even closer, his face now inches from hers, the heat from his body radiating toward her. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice sending a shiver through her. “This...thing between us.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, the air between them thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made it hard to breathe. She could feel her own body responding, every nerve on high alert, her skin tingling from his proximity.

“I do,” she whispered back, barely finding her voice.

His eyes flickered down to her lips for just a second before meeting her gaze again, his voice low and teasing. “Then why don’t we stop pretending?”

Just as their faces hovered inches from each other, Y/n felt something strange. The warmth between them, the pull, the intensity, was suddenly overshadowed by something else. It wasn’t the kind of butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling she’d expect in a moment like this. No, this was something colder, emptier.

She blinked, her breath catching as a strange stillness washed over her. It was as if the entire world around them had vanished, but not metaphorically. The music, the hum of voices, the distant laughter, all of it was gone. She pulled back, her eyes darting around the room, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

It was silent. Completely, unnervingly silent.

“Hendery...” she murmured, her voice shaking slightly as she looked up at him.

He didn’t speak, but the way his expression shifted told her everything. He knew something. She could see it in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his hand subtly tightened on her arm. “Don’t,” he said softly, almost pleading.

But Y/n’s unease only grew. She stood abruptly, her pulse racing now, the earlier sense of safety evaporating as a deep sense of wrongness settled in. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice thin as she glanced toward the door, suddenly desperate to know what was outside this room.

Hendery stood up quickly, moving toward her. “Y/n, wait,” he urged, stepping between her and the door. “It’s...it’s nothing. Everything is fine. Just stay here. Please.”

But there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that unsettled her even more. Fear. Desperation. “What do you mean, nothing?” she demanded, her voice growing firmer. “What’s happening, Hendery?”

He reached out as if to stop her, but Y/n was already moving. She dodged his grasp, heart pounding as she grabbed the door handle and swung it open. What she saw made her stomach lurch.

The house. The one that had been bustling with partygoers, filled with decorations and music just moments ago, was completely empty. Not a single soul in sight. The vibrant Halloween decor was gone. The walls, once adorned with spooky decorations, were bare. No banners, no balloons, no lights, hell, no furniture. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the structure of the house itself had changed.

There were no proper doors anymore. Just gaping holes where they should have been. The floor beneath her feet felt wrong, like it wasn’t quite solid, and the walls seemed to tilt at strange angles, defying logic. She stepped into the hallway, her breath catching in her throat as she realized there were no proper rooms, just spaces that didn’t make sense. Stairs that led upside down, windows positioned on the ceiling instead of the walls, holes that led to nowhere. The entire place was a twisted, impossible maze. And there was a slight humming that she couldn’t ignore, like a deep horn in the distance, but it wouldn’t stop.

Her heart raced as she took another step, her hands trembling. “This...this isn’t real,” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky. But every step felt all too real under her feet.

Behind her, Hendery’s voice was tight with tension. “Y/n, please, just come back into the room, we can talk about this..”

She turned to face him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. “What is this? What the fuck?”

Hendery stepped toward her, his face suddenly serious, no trace of his earlier flirtatiousness. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Find out what?” she demanded, panic rising in her chest. The eerie silence pressed down on her like a weight, and the impossible shapes of the house made her feel like she was trapped in some surreal nightmare.

“This place,” Hendery said quietly, his gaze steady on hers, “it’s not what you think. I created it. For you.”

Y/n stared at Hendery, her mind reeling. "This shit hole?!" she screamed, the words escaping her before she could stop them. 

None of it made any sense. The house, if it even was a house, was twisting and warping around her, defying all logic. Her heart pounded, and her breath came out in ragged bursts as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

Every time she turned around or looked away, the space shifted. First, the rooms stretched impossibly long, the walls bending at strange angles. Then, in the blink of an eye, it wasn’t even a house anymore. The hallways became wide, empty spaces. The walls morphed into smooth, featureless surfaces, punctuated only by square holes for windows. She could see out of one now, they were on a high floor, overlooking what looked like a courtyard, but it wasn’t normal. Nothing about this place was.

The courtyard below was vast and unsettling, like something out of a fever dream. Endless windows lined every wall, but there was no life, no sound, just an eerie, stale air that filled the space. It felt abandoned. No, more than that. It felt wrong, like the world had been hollowed out, leaving nothing but this empty shell. The stillness was suffocating.

Her skin crawled as she stared out, trying to make sense of the twisted, labyrinthine structure around her. The building didn’t follow any familiar rules of architecture. It wasn’t a house or even an office, it was something else entirely. Something cold and alien. Like she was stuck in a forgotten place that wasn’t meant to exist.

“What is this?” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible, fear clawing at her chest.

Hendery’s footsteps were soft behind her, his calmness an unsettling contrast to the chaos around them. “It’s...hard to explain,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “This place…it’s not real, not in the way you know reality. It’s something I made. For us.” He wasn’t wearing his stupid costume anymore, and neither was she. Her dress was replaced with stale jeans and a damp t-shirt. 

Y/n whipped around to face him, her eyes wild. “For us?!” Her voice was sharp, a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re telling me you made this?” She gestured wildly to the strange, empty expanse around them. “This…nightmare? Who the fuck are you?!”

Hendery’s expression didn’t waver, though his eyes softened slightly. “I had to do something. I couldn’t lose you.”

“Lose me?” Y/n’s voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. “This isn’t saving me, Hendery! This...this place…it’s not right. None of this is right!”

She spun around again, her hands trembling as she looked out the windows, her mind racing. Every inch of the structure seemed to shift whenever she wasn’t looking, morphing into something new, something worse. It was like the building itself was alive, warping in response to her fear.

"And what the fuck do you mean by 'lose me'?" Y/n snapped, glaring at Hendery, her voice shaking with both fear and anger.

Hendery hesitated, avoiding her gaze. “...Nothing…you know…is real,” he muttered under his breath, his tone low and distant.

Y/n’s frown deepened. “What?” she demanded, stepping closer.

He finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Your memories...your friends, your entire life...I had to change it.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Hendery’s voice softened, his words more deliberate now. “If you knew what really happened...it would ruin everything. You don’t even remember how you got to the party, do you?”

Y/n’s breath hitched as his words sunk in, her confusion giving way to a cold, creeping realization.

The endless rows of windows, the strange emptiness, the sense that something was watching from every shadow, it made her stomach churn. The surreal, airy atmosphere around her felt too open, yet claustrophobic at the same time, as if there was no escape.

“Please, Y/n,” Hendery said softly, stepping closer. “Just stay. It’s safer here.”

Y/n shook her head, her heart racing. “Safer? Hendery, this place isn’t safe. It’s...it’s wrong.” She took a step back from him, panic rising as her surroundings became even more unfamiliar, more unsettling. The walls seemed to breathe, stretching and contracting as though they had a mind of their own.

She was trapped in a nightmare, a place that twisted reality into something grotesque and unnatural. And the worst part? Hendery had done this. Created this...prison.

"I have to get out of here," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible as the horror of it all began to sink in.

But deep down, she wasn’t sure if escape was even possible.

Her legs moved before she could think, adrenaline kicking in as she bolted toward the nearest opening, the only thing on her mind was getting away. Away from Hendery, away from this twisted nightmare.

“Y/n, wait!” Hendery’s voice echoed after her, calm yet pleading, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She didn’t dare look back. His voice sounded too certain, too...knowing. And that terrified her even more. But he didn’t chase her.

The hall stretched endlessly before her, and her breath came in ragged bursts as she sprinted through the impossibly long corridors, her heart thudding in her chest. She turned sharply down another hallway, desperately hoping to find an exit, any way out.

But when she rounded the corner, expecting to see a blank hallway, there he was, Hendery, standing right where he was before she turned the corner. Watching her. Not moving. His eyes filled with something that looked almost like pity. 

How could he be there…he was just down the last hallway.

Y/n’s heart raced faster as she turned again, her pulse pounding in her ears. She ran harder, willing her body to go faster, to find some way out. She rounded another corner, praying for a door, a window, anything. But the moment she turned, her stomach dropped. She was back where she started.

Hendery was still there, standing in the same place, his face expressionless, but his eyes held that same pitying look. 

“No,” she breathed, panic clawing at her throat. She spun again, running down the hall, pushing herself harder, her feet slamming against the floor. But every turn brought her back to the same spot, the same hallway, the same twisted reality. And every time she looked back, there he was. 

“Hendery!” she screamed, frustration mixing with terror and tears. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, his gaze steady on hers.

“It’s no use,” he said softly, his voice carrying down the hall. “You can’t leave.”

Y/n shook her head, refusing to believe it, but her body was starting to betray her. She was exhausted, her legs shaking from the endless running, her mind spinning with the impossible reality she was trapped in. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

She slumped against the wall, her breathing ragged as she stared at him, defeated. Hendery took a slow step forward, his voice gentle, as if speaking to a frightened animal.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said, his eyes soft. “But this is the only way we can be together. You’ll understand...in time.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of the impossible truth crashing down on her. There was no escape. No way out. She was trapped in this strange, shifting world, and Hendery was the only constant, her captor, and maybe, her only chance at survival.

Each step Hendery took toward her felt like a weight pressing against Y/n’s chest. She tried to move back, but she was already against the wall, trapped with nowhere to go. Her body, tired and trembling from running, betrayed her, forcing her to slide helplessly along the cold surface, trying to keep distance between them. But Hendery kept coming closer.

Her heart pounded as her feet shuffled sideways, desperation pushing her to retreat, but the wall offered no more space. She barely registered it in time, the gaping open window just beside her. One misstep, and suddenly, she was teetering on the edge, her balance slipping.

Y/n’s body tilted, gravity pulling her toward the dizzying drop below. Panic surged through her, and she screamed, her arms flailing as her foot slipped from under her.

Before she could fall, a firm grip closed around her wrist. Hendery. His hand clamped tightly, keeping her from plummeting into the empty abyss outside. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared up at him, wide-eyed.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The cool breeze from the outside brushed against her skin, while Hendery’s face remained calm, his expression unreadable.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. 

Y/n’s breathing was uneven, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of everything. Hendery’s grip was firm but gentle, and for a second, she felt that pull again, the comfort, the safety he made her feel. But then reality crashed back in. He had trapped her here, in this nightmare. The walls, the impossible structure, the shifting hallways...none of it was real. And Hendery? He was the architect of it all.

Her heart pounded as she thought it over. Every time she tried to escape, it led her back to him, like he controlled this whole world. She couldn’t let him keep her here. She wouldn’t. If this place was going to twist and warp reality, maybe she could twist it too.

Her muscles tensed as she made her decision.

Y/n’s eyes locked on his for a split second, just long enough for her to catch a flicker of concern in his gaze. Before he could react, she kicked him, hard, in the stomach. 

Hendery gasped in surprise, stumbling back and loosening his grip on her wrist. Seizing the moment, she yanked her arm free and launched herself back out the window, her body propelled by pure adrenaline. 

The wind whipped past her as she tumbled out into the void, the open air swallowing her whole. She felt weightless, her body spinning as she plummeted toward the ground. The courtyard below, cold and unforgiving, rushed up to meet her. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact, the harsh splat of concrete beneath her.

But the crash never came.

Instead, Y/n felt the soft give of cushions beneath her. Her eyes snapped open, and her breath caught in her throat. She was back in the small living room, the one Hendery had taken her to earlier. The dim lighting, the same worn couch, it was as if she’d never left.

She scrambled up, confusion flooding her senses. Her heart raced as her mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. She had jumped out of a window, had been falling to her death, and now she was here. Safe. Intact.

Her gaze flicked around the room, and there he was, Hendery, sitting calmly on the couch beside her, watching her with that same unreadable expression. No sign of the struggle. No sign of anything being out of place. 

“Welcome back,” he said quietly, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

Y/n’s stomach churned. She had escaped, or so she thought. But here she was, back where she started, as if her desperate attempt to flee had never even occurred. The world was bending to Hendery’s will, reshaping around her every move.

And this time, there really might be no way out.

Y/n’s legs gave out, her body crumbling on the floor. Her heart still raced from the fall, the reality of how close she’d come to dying. But now she was here, so what was really worse.

Hendery knelt down beside her, his grip still firm, but his touch gentle. "You can’t leave, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a mix of concern and control. "I won’t let you."

The weight of it all came crashing down on Y/n. Her chest tightened, and her throat constricted as the reality of her situation sunk in. She was trapped, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t escape him. She couldn’t escape this.

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. Her body shook as the sobs broke free, uncontrollable and raw. She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face into them, trying to shield herself from the suffocating truth. Everything was wrong. So impossibly wrong.

Through the blur of tears, she heard footsteps move beside her. Hendery’s presence, calm and steady, loomed too close. 

"Hey...hey," Hendery’s voice was soft, almost soothing, as he reached out, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "It’s okay. Everything’s fine. I promise."

Y/n shook her head, her sobs making it hard to speak. "No, it’s not," she choked out, her voice muffled against her knees. "Nothing is fine...I can’t—" Her words faltered as another wave of tears hit her. "I can’t get out."

Hendery’s hand slowly trailed down her back, a gesture meant to comfort, though it only made her feel more trapped. “Shh...everything is fine," he whispered. "You’re safe here, Y/n. There’s nothing to worry about anymore."

But those words, safe here, felt hollow. Y/n lifted her tear-streaked face, looking at him through pained eyes, her heart aching. “How can you say that? You’ve trapped me in this...this nightmare,” she cried, her voice cracking.

Hendery’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing away a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t want it to feel like that,” he murmured, his tone quiet, almost apologetic. “But you don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. You’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

Y/n’s tears continued to fall, her body trembling as the weight of his words pressed down on her. "I don’t want this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just want to go home..."

Hendery’s arms wrapped around her then, pulling her gently into his embrace. "You don’t want to go back there.." he whispered, his breath warm against her hair. "And I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. I’ll keep you safe, always."

His words sent a chill down her spine. Y/n wanted to push him away, to fight, to scream, but she was exhausted. Her mind, her body, everything felt too heavy to resist anymore. So she sank into his arms, her tears slowly subsiding, even though her heart still ached with the knowledge that she was truly stuck. 

And in that eerie silence, with Hendery holding her close as he repeated, “Everything is fine..”

Y/n felt the last piece of herself slip away, swallowed by the reality he had created.

-

A/N: WAA!! This (again) is the first Hendery/NCT fic I've posted, and I hope it hasn't disappointed.

There ain't enough WayV/NCT fic fics out there, so here I am!

It's probably obvious that this is meant to be a liminal space/backrooms kinda fic, cause why not! I was actually inspired by this post on tiktok a saw a few months ago, and it's just been chilling in my head, lol

I also wrote this fic while I was at work, so wrote it out in like a day, so if there are any mistakes, oops

anyways! thank you for reading 💚

[night-market-if]

Hi there !

I just came here to say that I read the entirety of the Night Market yesterday. Before my final exam. Instead of studying. A wonderful decision, really.

More seriously, I need to say this : this. This is a work of art. This shook me to my core. The way you describe everything is wonderful. And the story. The characters. Oh my god the world you created is so full and complex and you can see so much of your love for it through the writing, and it's not a perfect world, nowhere near it, but the characters in this world care and it's enough. The main cast, no, everyone really, is so human. So likable (except some obvious villains, whom are still incredibly interesting in their motivations, and also their madness the Lord of Dolls is an incredible example of this), so full of mistakes, with backstories so complex and unique, and I want to hug them because they need it but also slap some of them because they're so dumb *cough* Milo *cough*, which, I think, shows a lot about how well written a character is.

Now, onto the spoilers and the last chapters. I'm screaming. So so so not okay right now. I swear I ended the last chapter, read the last word, and went "how the fuck am I supposed to go to my exam tomorrow and be normal about this ???". Like. The way each plot twist was for me unexpected but shed light on so much stuff. Like, wow. Every bit that I was like "oh wait that's genius". One thing, even. In one chapter, when MC says to Milo "I hate them. The one who brought me there." and Milo had a strange reaction I said "oh imagine if he's the one who brought us there haha that would be fun". Let me tell you I wasn't laughing later on in chapter 11 after discovering that this funny thought, fastly forgotten because hey, I was never great at theories, this funny thought WAS THE GOOD ONE.

You are so so so so so so talented and I love your universe and everything and I'm destroyed in the best way possible and you gave me so much motivation about working on my own book and I will buy it I will buy the full game I will buy every one of your games just take my money. This is incredible. You are incredible.

Thank you so much for Night Market. I will read it again (because I don't have anymore exam ha). And sorry for the long rant, but I really needed to share how much I loved your if, and your writing ! Also sorry if any of this sounds strange, english isn't my first language !

With that, I hope you have a nice day/evening/night ! Take care of yourself !

I hope your exams went amazing!!! I do not miss those years. LOL

First off, thank you thank you thank you! The gushing was what I needed to sign on to. I always get so excited when readers get what I've been trying to convey. These flawed characters, all of which have lives and a past, are so very important to me. I know the typical way to do things is to write a story revolving around the MC but I would much rather write a story where MC goes and just experiences the world and the people in it.

As for being fooled by Milo, someone on discord put it great. You are blind to the ones you love. The truth of Milo has been laid out for some time. From chapter one, really. But, it was hard to see because of the kind of person he is. I am so excited to explore that in book 2.

Thank you for spending the time to write all this out. It has filled me with all the warm love. :)

And as for the Dollmaker? He will be a "villain" we will be seeing more of.

[journeytojaburo]

It's not the most obnoxious instance of this kind of thing in Gundam ever, but Riddhe and Banagher talking about promises between men and protecting Mineva as if she's not in the metaphorical room with them was bizarre.

It took me until this episode to realize that La+ being pronounced like "la plus" (ラ・プラス？) is supposed to sound like "Laplace" (ラプラス) because I wasn't really paying attention to any characters saying it before.

I'm not sure how I feel about Full Frontal being the one to deliver all this information instead of it coming more organically, but I actually gasped at him saying this. (Side note: Unicorn surely isn't the first thing to do "what if the acronyms were scary", but my first thought here was the whole "LV = Level of Violence" reveal in Undertale...)

It's not surprising that Cyber-Newtypes are still around considering it's only been a few years since they were last mentioned in the timeline, though I wonder who's handling them these days. Also, is Banagher supposed to be a Cyber-Newtype...? Because Full Frontal bringing up how only one could handle the NT-D system is pointing me heavily in that direction.

Once again, this show definitely feels like it's supposed to be half meta commentary on the series with this being a more obvious example of that.

I had the faintest feeling that Marida was supposed to be related to the Ples because of her appearance, but I wasn't expecting a reveal so soon. Once again, though, I feel like Full Frontal just sitting here and telling us the audience everything is a bit annoying.

Banagher is really taking the Amuro mantle here (with a little bit of Kamille mixed in too).

I'm a little disappointed that Marida's tragic backstory seems to be she worked at a brothel at a young age because I feel like that gets used over and over again for shock value in media. The focus on the damage to her reproductive system (their words not mine) is gratuitous as well, considering a few other of her organs have concerning damage too.

I was puzzling over why immunosuppressants would have to be used with Cyber-Newtypes, but then I remembered some of them (like Rosamia) have genetically enhanced organs. If I assume those are being transplanted in, that must be where the issue is.

It's always fun to see what people entertain themselves with in the Universal Century, like these hologram air hockey/pool type games.

And now there's seals on the Laplace's Box and/or La+ program, the plot thickens...

This lady is definitely going to be up to some shady underhanded activity, but I like the uniqueness of her design.

Discussing the Federation as a merciless overpowering god is an interesting new take on their actions. Also, the Federation apparently being kept in power so long from trying to "prevent terrorism" sounds a lot like what's happened in the real world many times.

Hopefully, the Unicorn Gundam has adequate re-entry protection because I'm not sure how he's gonna get out of this situation otherwise...

[the-wales-5]

"Crazy for this girl" (Chapter 5)

A few days passed, and a party organised by the son of the Prince of Wales was just around the corner. Everyone in his close circle was excited, apart from Catherine Middleton, who was getting ready to attend another one, “full of snobbism” with her boyfriend.

“Ready?” Rupert asked as he approached her and put his hands around her waist

“Not quite yet” she said as she wore her earrings “Stiffened sitting for three hours while having lame conversations, occasionally interrupted by drinks. What a marvellous way to spend the evening” she tried not to sneer, adding “You could have some real fun in life finally. I already told you that, haven't I?”

“You have, and it still seems ridiculous to me, Katie. If we are on a topic what we could do: you showing kindness to my friends would be nice. They like you so much. I don't know why your attitude is so negative”

“I've got nothing against them. I even like them a little bit. I am just angered right now. People from my course are getting ready for a different occasion, more joyful”

“Oh, I think I heard. The Harry Potter one? So childish”

“Well, your gathering is the opposite of childish. Your friends have got a broken sense of humour” Catherine rolled her eyes and sighed “Could you bring my coat, please? I must have left it in your room”.

**

“Where's Olivia?” Fergus asked as he and others waited in front of a bus. “We'll be late because of her, and all the royal staff will get angry”

“There is no staff waiting for us there tonight” William told him, trying not to laugh

“Calm down, everyone. I am sure she is on her way” Laura said but felt quite impatient as

All of a sudden, Oliver noticed two women running out of the Salvator's Hall area, holding hands to keep balance as they were wearing high heels.

“What the hell is Catherine doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be somewhere else tonight?” William asked and tried not to laugh

“She ran away!” Olivia replied and giggled “I was about to leave when I heard a knock. I open the door and there she is, with a bag in her hand, then she changes from an elegant dress to this outfit, can you believe it?!” Olivia continued to laugh

“Stop. He might be wondering where I am. Let us go inside the bus, please”.

Middleton was right. As soon as she said those words, Rupert Finch went to search outside and called her name.

“See?! I told you” Catherine said, and all of her friends giggled. “Go!” she said again, and they all quickly entered the bus.

Her boyfriend could notice it only when it basically drove away, but the whole group saw him anyway and laughed.

“How did it happen?” Laura asked as they drove away from the university area. She was still astonished by Middleton's brave move.

“I told Rupert to bring me something and as soon as he left, I proceeded to take a bag with a dress and jacket from the wardrobe and quickly rushed out of the room” Catherine replied, bursting out in laughter as well.

Rupert was considering two options: attend the party where his girlfriend was or show up to the one organised by his friends without Catherine. He felt that the former would make him look stupid and possessive, and he did not want that, while not attending the other altogether would humiliate him.

Middleton deliberately ignored text messages he sent. Her thoughts, for the first time in weeks, were not occupied with what things she could do to make others happy, and consequently, she was enjoying herself more than ever. At one point, she almost tripped while dancing with one of her friends, but it didn’t make her feel angry or embarrassed as it would if she were around Rupert’s companions instead.

*

William still not felt eniterly alright after his breakup with Carley Massy-Birch but decided to enjoy the evening he organised himself. Though, almost all of the girls outside of his ‘group’ were trying to get his attention. There was one who was way too annoying, and the prince had no idea how to get rid of her anymore, feeling more and more annoyed by each passing minute with that girl in his presence. Catherine saw this situation across the room. She blinked a few times and then slowly approached him, putting her hand around him and then sipping on a drink.

The prince looked at that young woman standing in front of him, saying “Sorry, I have a girlfriend”

“I thought you had just broken up with someone” she scoffed and walked away.

“Thank you” William mouthed and smiled at his friend. Kate chuckled lightly and took a step away from him, feeling shy all of a sudden “Do not thank me” she said and wanted to rejoin Olivia on the dancefloor when William said “If I may, I’d like to thank you for this rescue. Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, no. I mean.. I am already after one and a half, and it’s not going to end well if I get another one” she giggled

“Well, I get it totally. Would you like to dance?”

“Aren’t you sick of all women right now?” she asked and laughed, signs of shyness fading.

William slowly extended his hand toward her “You can say ‘no’ of course”.

“I am here after abandoning a strict plan to attend a gathering of future lawyers, and by doing so, I am probably risking my reputation in the eyes of Rupert's circle of friends. Why would I say no?” she laughed and put her hand on top of William's. He hid his smile after noticing blush on her face.

Shortly afterwards, they began to dance and Middleton felt even more relaxed than before. All of her problems basically faded as she was laughing with Oliver and the rest of friends. However, it was Prince William who made her laugh the most with his silly jokes.

*

Unlike his girlfriend, Finch came back to his room rather early, feeling embarrassed by her escape at the last moment and irritated to hear constant questions from his friends such as “Where is your girlfriend”. He was thanking his self-consciousness for not deciding to tell them about the real reason, but to lie about her abrupt illness she caught in the morning.

*

“I am impressed a little, you know” William told Kate in the middle of a conversation about something entirely different as they were sitting by the bar, taking a break from dancing

“By what?” she inquired with confusion

“You basically ran away from your plans”

“Not mine” she rolled her eyes “If it were up to me, I’d never attend such a meeting”

“Why not? Don’t you like to talk about murder cases while sipping on a mojito?”

Catherine burst out laughing, for about the hundredth time that night.

“Do you think he is angry now?” William asked

“Well, he did send me some text messages so you can consider that as attitude of someone angry” she replied “I wish I could see his facial expression after he returned to that room and did not see me there”

“It is good that you decided to do it. That girl would never leave me alone if not for your comment”

“That was stupid, though. I should have never said something like that, specifically in the aftermath of your breakup with Carley”

“It is not true” William replied “It was our mutual decision to end things, and it was that girl who should consider not approaching me and flirting if she knew about my split. It seems like she was well-informed after all, and you were just kind enough to save me from that embarrassing moment of flirt”

“I think you are overreacting” Yet another genuine laugh escaped Middeton’s lips.

William chuckled a little, but instead of saying something, he had been looking at Kate for a few seconds.

“What’s the matter?’ she asked after noticing that stare of his

“Nothing” he smiled and then ordered another glass of whiskey for himself, while Catherine had been taken away back to the dancefloor by Fergus.

*

As she was leaving the castle to get some fresh air outside in the middle of the night, she could not believe that she was almost ready to miss such a nice occasion for her boyfriend and his “snobby gathering”.

Laura followed her, saying “It’s so good that you decided to join. It wouldn't have been the same without you, and I am sure I'm not the only one thinking that”

“Rupert definitely is not amongst that group”

“Oh stop, please” Laura said and rolled her eyes “He is not here, and I see you are happy anyway. This is a sign”

“Everything is a sign. Unfortunately for you, Finch is that kind of a person who does not believe in heavenly signs. He only believes in law!” Catherine said louder and then took another sip from a wine glass in her hand

It was proven now that after one more drink that Middleton swore to avoid earlier, she herself was making fun of everything, including clothes she was about to wear a few hours earlier and even Rupert. Despite the alcohol amount in her blood, she was fully aware that there would be comments from some people or that someone would share it with Finch, but she did not care. All she wanted was to have fun that evening, and that ‘mission’ had been achieved successfully.

**

“That was epic, Wills! Thanks for inviting us!” were the words of almost each one of Prince’s guests as they were leaving in the early morning at 5 AM. He felt satisfied that an occasion like that could have happened and that it was him who was able to organise it without applying strict royal rules into every single detail that could ruin real fun.

“Ready to return to normal life?” Olivia teased as she left the building too and joined everyone else standing outside the bus, some of them smoking.

“Not quite” Catherine said “We are really getting just one day off, and then are we supposed to come back to classes? This is brutal”

“More than that, it is cruelty,” Oliver replied and took a sip of water.

“Middleton, stop complaining. You had a chance to attend a less invasive gathering, and yet you refused” Laura said and laughed. Catherine groaned and closed her eyes before replying “I’ve had fun here at least”.

The bus was on the way to Salvador’s Hall, and almost everyone inside was either sleeping or trying to do so despite feeling nauseous. Almost everyone, except for William. Despite feeling sleepy as well, he was thinking about the last few hours he had spent with “Beautiful Kate” and others.

“Are you alright?” she asked and chuckled at the view of his face almost glued to the bus window.

“Yes. I've been thinking about this evening and how it turned out, you know”

“Well, I hope it did in a good way”

William slightly smiled and continued to look through the window.

**

Chapter 6

[void-botanist]

"1. What was learning like for them as a child? Did they attend a school setting or learn in another way?" for all the androids!! and iirc a couple of them went to university so wondering if education was different for them compared to non-androids lol

YEAH ANDROIDS

The most general thing to know about android education is that they all went through some form of having their brains pickled in encyclopedias prior to being assembled into full working systems. This process was most refined with Dez, since he's the youngest and has benefited from all of the developments of the earlier androids, and least comprehensive with Mizzat, because the university team that built vim was like, "vi mostly just needs to know about math, sooooo…"

Mizzat is the only one who has had a truly Formal education. Since vi was built to be a math professor vi had an honorary degree from the University of the Second Akkanswl when vi started out, but vi went on to not only get an actual doctorate in math - I'm gonna tentatively say with a focus on discrete geometry but that just seemed like the best choice from ten minutes of trying to understand what Cornell's math PhD concentrations are - which vi did so the degree part wouldn't seem like such a lie but also because there's way more to math than just the calculus vi was pickled in and teaches. Vi did have the benefit of having a very personable build team that was happy to teach vim stuff and also to accept their own mistakes in their approach. But vi has learned a lot just by being extremely curious, with unrestricted access to both the network and the university library. Vi has considered going for more degrees, because vi has a ridiculous amount of time on vis hands despite being a teacher (vi has literally all hours of the day to do things) and really needs to pick up another research project or five.

Imjen had a quasi-formal education via the medical school and hospital at the University of the Fifth Akkanswl, where zi was built. Zi was taught how to interact and later to do schedustrar and nurse work by various experts, but was essentially a privately tutored student. But there was a lot of stuff that zir supervisory team didn't bother to teach zim, probably because they just expected zim to pick it up like a normal swl child. Which zi kind of did, by taking all of zir opportunities to just sort of wander the city. They mostly didn't try to stop zim but they also didn't love it when zi started to have political opinions and such. Because Imjen looks extremely like a normal swl, it's easy for zim to dip in and out of normal swl areas and learn by watching other people. That has also fueled zir weird relationship with passing as nondroid. In recent years Imjen has started attending night classes about random non-computer-science things, which zir supervisors like. But it's partly just to befriend the professors so they'll teach zim more things. Zi feels oddly comfortable around professors, probably because zi has known a lot of them, but the comp sci ones always look at zim a little bit like a cut of meat.

Syndy was extra extra pickled in her prebuild stages because Gweltsen knew that they weren't going to have the opportunity to teach her much - because of their terminal illness, but also because of hiding her sapience from everyone else. But they did walk her through the legal questions surrounding her and teach her a random assortment of things from their own experience. Hoven was around for a small fraction of the time she was with Gweltsen, too. She also learned more than she cares to admit from her memories of her unconscious time as a postal robot ("Sintii-bot"). There's a lot of data in there about the ways people interact. Plus there was a fair amount of time at night where she was conscious but unsupervised and so could fuck with the computer system or peel open packages she wasn't supposed to look at or mess with the ceiling tiles. But everything else she's pretty much learned from romcoms and period dramas.

Dez was moderately pickled, closer to Syndy's level than the others'. He has never even looked upon a school (unless you count the one on Elbas Island), let alone been in one. He's technically been homeschooled, in a very laissez-faire fashion that has mostly been penmanship, art class, and a lot of tooling around in Anni's workshop that we could call shop class. A huge chunk of what he knows has been gleaned from watching documentaries, and also becoming obsessed with something (spies, astrogeology, snow) and reading up on it with an introductory textbook open next to the super high level article he wants to read Right Now. He hates reading physical books, though, so he's always reading them in his internal viewer. Anni is neither his teacher nor his mom but she's kinda played the role of both, as has Julian. Julian works from home and also manages the bills so he's done a lot of explaining about things. Peter could be considered a guest lecturer in art and dogs. Zel and Urma are more like the substitute teachers who come in and have you watch a movie in class, except Zel also gives him his vicarious video game fix, and he has seen a lot of interactions via moderating her stream chats.

[thedragonchilde]

G Gundam meta notes part four, eps 25-29:

"All Fighters Gathered! The Final Battles Begin"

-the Shuffle Alliance being so shrouded in mystery is interesting given that EVERYONE IN UNIVERSE SEEMS TO KNOW THEM or at least that the crests mark top fighters

-blah blah clip show episode mostly but HELLO FUUNSAIKI

-S U P E R  A S I A 

-just in case we forgot this is actually a crapsack world, we get "yeah you can target the cockpit now, yes I know exactly what will happen :)"

-and "unlimited repairs (if you can afford it lol)"

-hold on, is Chibodee left-handed? Or is he just saluting with the left because it feels less Nazi-esque that way? (If this was obvious in his earlier episodes, forgive me; I've never been great with my left and right, especially when I have to flip them. It just sticks out here because he's saluting differently from everyone else.)

"A New Weapon! Erupting God Finger"

-Wong talking with his mouth full is great

-I love that Domon seems to be allergic to hotels

-”no one here has any clue how powerful my Burning Gundam is” INCLUDING YOU, DOMON

-WHY IS MARCELOT THIRTEEN FUCKING FEET TALL

-✴️ wander bug ✴️

-Argo's thumbs up is a thing of beauty

-I wanna know what happened to Hoy and Ming's parents

-ah, the suit-up is much easier in this gundam

-huh, Marcelot took that loss in stride

"Hang on Domon! Triumph of the Restored Faith"

-i love Domon with children

-and Rain referring to said kids as Domon's friends, interesting

-and Domon both believing kids are working with Chandra and being disturbed to distraction over it

-okay this is bizarro-land racist. Is he supposed to be part snake?

-although between him and the last guy, I wonder if it's supposed to imply that some of the colonies have been doing genetic engineering to create super-fighters. It wouldn't be the weirdest or shadiest thing going on in this universe

-Hoy is clearly markedly younger than the rest of the friend group 

-”Mister East”

"Domon Targeted! The Assassin's Staff"

-the announcer swooning over Schwarz

-Hoy, kiddo, there's a pest here and it's the one who kicked a guy in the shin 0.2 seconds after meeting him

-love that, knowing he's dealing with an assassin, Chibodee 1) brings it up real casual with the target, and 2) is ready to BEAT UP SAID ASSASSIN

-”if I can sneak up to him” he says, and then yells

-that was a noble attempt to save him, Chibodee

-Chibs did his research on Kyral, I see

-Neo Nepal is fucked up, but then with some of these countries what else is new

-Sai as training partner is great

-Chibodee, why would you rush in and try to hit this guy? Also, why are you still hanging around there anyway?

-after all these wins by default, you'd think someone would investigate

-that double phallic sword faceoff just screams "I see your schwartz is as big as mine, now let's see how well you use it"

-”then I will SLASH you!”

-I wonder if there's something to be said about ableism in the Gundam Fight - like, clearly Kyral can fight while blind, so they didn't have to toss him aside

-Schwarz’s Moon Tiara saves the day again

-cultural relativism? Chibodee seems hung up on Kyral’s crimes being unforgivable, while Domon and Sai are like “he's moving forward and doing better, good for him”

"Running Away! Sai Saici In Love"

-I guess Neo Denmark is low on money, to not be able to repair the Gundam

-Sai trying to sound cool and mysterious is hysterical

-I wouldn't mind Sai’s canon height so much if Cecile wasn't shorter than him. A teenage girl markedly under 4’4”? With no indication that they're meant to be little people? Even for anime, that's a stretch

-though I wonder if she dresses the way she does to signal that she is, in fact, older than she looks

-Cecile is so frickin noble and good-hearted

-Hans has very twink-or-lesbian vibes

-”elderly men?” Cecile probably assuming a gay couple adopted Sai. Though I guess we don't know what's up with Zuisen and Keiun anyway?

-Domon doesn't know a date when he sees one, or at least that you don't interrupt one

-brb going hyper mode just to trip some guys

-unison speaking is one thing, but synchronized crying is something else

-I wonder what Hans does in the off season

[golden--doodler]

I SAW ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE.

This is my official warning for extreme spoilers because I want to give my full, uncensored thoughts.

However, before getting into all of that, I wanted to say beforehand that this movie is a part one. It ends in a cliffhanger which caught me completely off-guard, and I just want to tell people who haven't seen it yet that this is only the beginning of this particular story. If anyone wants to watch this movie at home when it comes out on video/streaming and just catch the conclusion in theaters (or at least I hope it's the conclusion) because that would be more satisfying to them, I want them to have that ability, and be aware of this.

Okay, now getting into the actual movie, oh my god it was freaking incredible 🥳. I want this movie's art style more than anything. Somehow they improved upon the magnificent, ground-breaking animation style of the first, and made it even better! Gwen's universe has this super cool, almost painterly art style (which is the best way I can describe it) and everyone moves in such a fluid, distinct way.

And speaking of Gwen, I love how the movie opens with her and briefly shows what her relationship was like with her dad and Peter. It makes it all the more sadder knowing what Peter's inevitable fate is. However, the moment Gwen reveals herself as Spider-Woman to her dad is even sadder because despite everything, he's still afraid of her and everything that's happened, and it's absolutely gut-wrenching. I really want to give the girl a hug.

Not only that, but the fact that they used a joke that wasn't even originally going to be in the first movie (the whole bagel joke was just something made off-the-cuff that ended up making it into the final cut because it made everyone laugh so much) and turned the person that said joke happened to into a genuinely tragic character and menacing supervillain is nothing short of massively impressive. I adore the villain in this movie because of how genuinely terrifying he ends up being after being shown in the beginning to seem like just another sad bank robber. By the way, that entire scene is freaking hilarious. And the way that his entire life was "ruined" by Miles and the reactor, so he in turn wants to ruin Miles' life, is so awful, yet one can definitely understand where he's coming from. I can't wait to see what they do with him in part two, and what that final battle's going to be like.

I love how they reintroduced Peter B. Parker, and they gave him a daughter who is the cutest little girl, oh my gosh. The way he's such a proud, excited dad, showing off photos of her on his phone, is the most wholesome thing ever. And his whole heart-to-heart with Miles was really sweet, too. I can't believe meeting Miles is what caused him to want to actually be a father after originally divorcing MJ because he was too afraid to be one 🥺

Miguel is also an interesting character, and this exchange was fascinating:

Gwen: We're supposed to be the good guys!

Miguel: We are the good guys.

I don't want him to become a villain, exactly, but it's clear he's misguided, and I'm sure he'll continue making rash decisions and hunting down Miles in part two. I think his reasoning for wanting to sacrifice one person to save a ton more gave me Infinity War vibes and I'm wondering what they'll do with him next.

Oh yes, and I loved Pavitr Prabhakar, the Indian Spider-Man variant. He was effortlessly talented and also just a genuinely nice guy. I always love it when effortlessly talented people are also genuinely nice. They could've made him a jerk so easily, but they didn't, and I appreciate that.

I also want to praise this movie for the fact that it gave Miles' mother more to do. I adore her speech to Miles about wanting what's best for him, and that there will be people in the future who don't believe in him like his parents do, so he needs to look out for himself and "that little boy". She's such a fun character and a wonderful mother.

This is usually the spot where I'd put any criticisms, but honestly, the only thing I could really say in that regard is because it's a part one, there is definitely a lot of setup. But all in all, I think it's great even on its own, and it leaves you wanting more.

Okay, okay, and the ending. I can't believe a variant of Miles is the Prowler, and I have no idea what that means for the next movie, but I'm so intrigued to find out. God, they really got me, hook, line, and sinker.

There's a lot more I could say about this movie, and I might make another post to add more thoughts that I forgot to add here, but I cannot emphasize enough or put into enough words how much I love it. If you don't mind cliffhangers, go see it in theaters to support it.

[shaaknaa]

I've been thinking about the history of Romanticism and the Philosophy of Love and I think the aspec community (of which I am a part) could use a refresher.

The first point is that Romantic is an adjective that means "Romes Fault."* The romantic languages are derived from Latin and as such, are Rome's Fault. You may be wondering: wait... how is romance Rome's Fault?

Well, around the time the USA was being founded the Enlightenment was in full swing. Very Rational and Scientific. Then in 1798 artists in Rome were like: but to have emotions consume you is human. So they immediately went to the most intense and humanly universal emotion they could think of: Death and Grief.

Honestly, pretty edgy stuff. If you wanna read some emotional stuff check it out. But like... jumping from death to what we call romance? Because sex sells and the biggest emotions you can get from it are murder and suicide from being cheated on or snubbed. When these guys say, "I'll die for you," they fucking mean it.

But like... murder/suicide is a bummer. What if we had the same level of dedication but it didn't end in disaster? Maybe instead of a literal death they just give up their social standing to run away together, it's just as unwise. Here is the birth of modern romance. To make a Fandom analogy, they woobified their yanderes (more *self*-destructive than their modern counterparts.). So, why is romance supposed to be the most important thing in your life? Because if it wasn't the Romantics wouldn't have written about it.

OK, but if Romanicism is younger than the USA and less that two hundred years older than One Piece, how did people talk about it before? Surely, these emotions have existed since time immemorial? I am so glad you asked.

Eros. Technically if you dig it Eros is just sex and passion, Dating is Eros+Ludus, then as things get more serious you add Pragma, Storage, and Philia. Mania, obsessive love, was considered incredibly unhealthy. Depending on the model you use it can be it's own thing or an unhealthy imbalance. Again, here be proto-Yanderes. But the point of the Romantic Movement was to be a little obsessive.

Fun fact, at least four of these terms were defined by Plato. Including Eros which he was all for. The development of the term platonic love has nothing to do with Plato's Theory of Love, and more to do with the fact that he rather famously didn't fuck his students and thus had platonic relationships with them.

Anyway, the meaning of words changes over time, but sometimes the some baggage comes with it.

*technically romantic as an adjective means something more like "from or pertaining to Rome" but this is funnier.

[tonydaddingham]

You're amazing with your analysis of A&C's characters so I was wondering if I could ask some advice?

I'm writing a human AU, in which Bad Things happen. show!Crowley seems generally alright with murder as long as he doesn't have to think too hard about it, but do you think that could, in any universe, (/would his, ah, questionable, morals) translate a bit to a human version? if it wasn't *his fault* exactly (necessity for survival) but it was still a Thing? I'm not sure anyone's capable of dodging feelings of responsibility or guilt so hard, but? maybe?

(also, I'm curious about your opinion on gomens human AUs in general, if you don't mind?)

hello anon my darling!!!✨ first of all, this ask has utterly floored me, thank you so much for the really kind words, and for even considering dropping this into my lap!!!💕

i love a human AU, it's actually my favourite flavour fic, and for GO fic in particular!!! i can find myself thrown out of certain fic when i feel like the characters aren't quite in-character, or the plot isn't entirely canon-compliant/retcons certain bits of the original material (not that that's bad in fic!!! it just, personally speaking, throws me off a little!!!), so an AU - human in particular - is the perfect alternative to that, for me... you can sandbox the characters, story, and themes slightly✨

so i basically (obviously there is Nuance to be had but that would result in a veeeeery long ask and ive chatted shit about it fairly regularly in other posts anyway) agree with you - that as long as he doesn't think too much about it, and doesn't have to do it himself, crowley just isn't... fazed by murder. along with all the good things, it's another thing, a bad thing, that humans (and angels/demons too, but is it murder if they don't technically live?) do, and crowley will have seen enough of it through 6000 years on earth to be essentially desensitised to it... aziraphale too, probably. he's also demonstrated that the concept of death to others in the context of self-preservation or protection of others is not something he overly concerns himself with.

in terms of how this would translate to a human AU - obviously i don't know the full scope of what your story is, but if we're supposing that AU!crowley would be exposed to murder (ie. he's not actively killing people himself - that's a whole other discussion!), i think his view on it could come from multiple places that are rooted equally in pragmatism, moral identity, and dissonance.

what is his view on capital punishment - would he consider it in some circumstances to be justified? cases of pre-emptive strike justification - does he think murder is justified when used in self defence, or defence of others? what is his stance on euthanasia, and end-of-life rights? from a warfare perspective, would crowley have strong enough feelings about murder to conscientiously object, if he were called to serve?

alternatively, in this AU scenario, is he a character that is naive and morally corrupt or deficient enough to essentially... just not care? put bluntly, is he just simply an arsehole where murder or suffering doesn't affect him? as long as it doesn't happen to him or his closest, would he even give it a second thought? or is he a character that acts so innocent, to the point that murder is some unspeakable concept that he doesn't even think about it?

im not sure this at all answered your question, anon?! but im more than happy to chinwag further on it, but maybe the above are a few angles to consider it from, even if they don't necessarily apply to your story!!! if it has helped though, best of luck with it, and i hope i may unknowingly come across it in the future!!!✨💕