#Also got my blood tests back — totally normal

[sizzleissues]

Suffering from haven’t thought about my blorbos enough disease. prognosis: fatal. Time left: three hertz (thoughts about having thoughts). Treatment: palliative, needs comfy bed and sleep time.

[cinematicnomad]

urgentcare said i do NOT have a kidney infection which is? good news, i guess, but also i don’t totally trust them lol

[chrissy-kaos]

**Health update**

So I never wanted to make another post like this but here I am.. I was hoping to just get better and never bring it up again.

To get those of you up to speed. I was diagnosed with CKD back in late 2021. I’ve been battling that for a while now. I’m actually doing really well in that regard. During a routine MRI in Nov 2023 for my kidneys we found what looked to be a hepatic steatosis and splenomegaly. It was later determined and I was diagnosed with hepatic tumors and splenomegaly. I also had a fairly large gallstone and what appeared to be a tumor/cyst on my gallbladder. We decided it was just better to remove my GB and the tumors all at the same time. So in January of this year I had laparoscopic cholecystectomy/tumor removal. That’s what the scars on my stomach are from. The tumors were tested and were benign. That was a huge relief. But it left my liver fairly damaged. I wasn’t to concerned about because your liver can and will heal itself. I recovered well and felt great.

Fast forward 9 months. I wasn’t feeling very well. So I made an appointment with my PCP and she wanted me to do a bloodwork panel. This is normal. We actually do blood once a month but really only check kidneys, thyroid, and hormones. So I did the panel and when the test results came in my Dr called me immediately. She ordered another AST/hepatic function panel for my liver, kidneys and pancreas.

After those test results came in she had me come to her office. I was met with her and a Hepatologist. They broke the news to me that unfortunately my liver not doing well according to the bloodwork. My pancreas/kidneys are actually pretty ok rn which is cool. But my total bilirubin is 1.4 mg/dl. At 1.5 mg/dl total bilirubin is where we really start looking at the possibility of Cirrhosis. If you don’t know what that is. Google it. Now I’m not saying I have this rn but it seems to be looking that way 🫤

They were telling me they could see my bilirubin trending up over the course of the past few months of bloodwork. Also previously being diagnosed with Splenomegaly which is a tell tale sign of Cirrhosis apparently. They’re pretty sure I have it or will have it. They want to run more tests and see how bad or good it is and we’ll go from there. It seems like they have a pretty good plan. Also for those of you that are going to say get a second opinion.. I got a second and a third. They said the same thing go figure..

So again I find myself going in and out of the hospital again. I don’t wish this life upon anyone. It’s not fun. Being chronically/terminally ill is no fucking joke. If it’s not one thing it’s another. It’s tiring and I’m soo tired. Honestly I can’t wait until it’s all over.. forever.

Anyway I figured I’d give you a bit of an update on my health and such. A lot of you ask in my DMs. It’s hard to answer everyone so a post like this gets it out there. But yea if you made it this far thank you and I love you 🫶🏻

[seongsangssbitch]

The Amazing Spiderman

pt 1

Synopsis: Yunho is Spiderman the city's savior and superhero who is also a little bit of a loser and is painfully in love with his best friend Mingi. What happens when his father's experiment goes terribly wrong transforming Yunho into a monster he despises?

Pairing: Spiderman! Yunho x Bestfriend! Mingi

Word count: 48k(total) 24k(This part)

Warning: Violence, blood, and angst, detailed rough sex smut(not in this chapter) mind control, body control, lots and lots of cursing, daddy issues, mentioned death of a sibling.

Note: I honestly wrote this whole thing in a day(my eyes are burning right now) BUT AAAAAH I LOVE HOW THIS STORY TURNED OUT. Special thanks to my bae @asherthehimbo for supporting me and helping me out and my wifey @grapejellysollie <333. Have fun reading this!! Part two will be posted tomorrow

"Do you think Spider-Man... you know, cums webs?" Mingi asked, slurping his noodles as if he'd just posed a question about the weather.

Yunho froze mid-slurp, eyes widening in horror as he choked on the spicy broth. He coughed until his face turned red, finally managing, "Mingi, what the actual—no! What are you even talking about?"

Mingi just shrugged, still munching away without a hint of shame. "I mean if he can shoot webs, like... where else can he shoot them from?" He waggled his eyebrows, looking entirely too amused by his own question.

Yunho could feel his face heating up, but he was also fighting a losing battle with his composure. "Trust me," he said, holding back a laugh, "he definitely does not shoot webs from there."

As much as Yunho would love to play along with Mingi's bizarre curiosity, he had firsthand knowledge of Spider-Man's... physiology. He was Spider-Man, after all. The city's mysterious, slightly awkward superhero, who'd been spending the last few weeks swinging between buildings, testing his limits, and learning to keep his cool. Well... mostly.

It hadn't started out so heroic. Just three weeks ago, Yunho was the scrawny, curious guy who spent his free time poking around his dad's lab. When he stumbled across a strange, black-glass door tucked away in the corner of the lab, he felt his usual mix of curiosity and overconfidence kick in. And, of course, he went inside.

Behind the door, he found row after row of brightly colored spiders in tanks—a veritable rainbow of creepy crawlies. And because Yunho had no sense of self-preservation, he leaned in for a closer look, pressing his face against the glass. One of the spiders, in all its neon glory, suddenly decided to spray a jet of thick, fluorescent liquid straight into his eyes.

The next morning, Yunho woke up feeling... different. It was subtle at first—clearer vision, a little more energy—but by the time he got to school and saw Mingi, the changes were impossible to ignore.

Mingi, his buff, and intimidating best friend, had jogged over to him in the hallway, smiling wide. But when Mingi gave Yunho his usual playful shove, he stumbled backward, nearly tripping.

"What the hell, dude?" Mingi huffed, straightening his shirt as he eyed Yunho suspiciously. "Since when did you get so strong?"

Yunho blinked, just as surprised as Mingi. "I... don't know?"

But before Yunho could even process it, Mingi's hand was on his stomach, pressing against his abdomen. "Whoa, Yunho—you have abs?" His expression shifted from disbelief to something like awe. "Did I miss a whole gym transformation or what?"

Yunho's face turned red as he stammered, "W-What? I... I haven't even, uh, looked..." He mentally kicked himself for having skipped his usual shower that morning; he'd been too preoccupied with his sore muscles and strange new strength.

Mingi grinned, giving Yunho a look that was equal parts amused and suspicious.

 "Well, you're going to have to start explaining soon, because this?" He gestured at Yunho's torso. "This isn't normal."

Yunho's mind raced, scrambling for a plausible explanation. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that one experimental spider spray later, he was waking up with six-pack abs? That definitely wasn't in the manual for "normal high school life."

So, with as much confidence as he could muster, Yunho forced a nervous laugh and tried to brush it off. "Uh... yeah, guess I've just been eating my vegetables?"

Mingi gave him a skeptical once-over before rolling his eyes. "Right. Sure, vegetable abs. Whatever, dude." His grin turned devious as he started walking away. "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook in gym class anymore. With those muscles? You're officially on my radar."

As Mingi strutted off toward the washroom, Yunho exhaled, relief flooding through him. For now, the secret was safe, and Mingi hadn't pieced anything together. Yunho was still getting used to it all himself. Who would have thought that one unfortunate lab accident would turn him into Spider-Man, the superhero he grew up reading about?

Flash forward three weeks, and Yunho was now the city's new sensation—a superhero in a red suit swinging from skyscrapers, stopping robberies, and saving people left and right. The whole city was buzzing about him. Every news channel had a story on the "mysterious Spider-Man from the marvel novels," and social media was obsessed with him. But Yunho? He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was his life now.

The real kicker, though? His best friend was Spider-Man's biggest fan—without even knowing who Spider-Man actually was. Mingi loved Spider-Man with a passion that bordered on... well, creepy. His phone wallpaper? Spider-Man. His contact photo? Spider-Man. His Instagram profile picture? Spider-Man. Every time Yunho logged on, he was greeted with Mingi's latest barrage of posts and stories, usually captioned with things like "Check out these Spider-muscles!" or "My man crush Monday, every Monday, is Spider-Man."

If Yunho had a dollar for every time Mingi reposted some fan edit of Spider-Man's latest heroic stunt, he could retire from superhero work altogether.

The whole situation had Yunho feeling flustered for more reasons than he cared to admit. Because, well, there was the small matter of his four-year crush on Mingi. He'd fallen for him ages ago, and the feelings had only grown stronger over time. But Mingi was oblivious to it—oblivious to how Yunho's face would flush every time he complimented Spider-Man's, or his, muscles. And of course, Mingi had no idea that his best friend was the very guy he was fangirling over.

It was... complicated. On one hand, it was kind of thrilling. Mingi was infatuated with Spider-Man, technically making him infatuated with Yunho's secret identity. But on the other hand, Yunho found himself actually feeling jealous of... well, himself. Or at least his "Spider-Man" self.

Because at the end of the day, Mingi was crushing on an idealized version of Yunho, a persona he'd crafted to protect his identity and keep people at a distance. He wanted Mingi to like him, the real Yunho, not just the mask he put on at night. The irony wasn't lost on him—here he was, a superhero who could lift cars and swing across the city, but he couldn't even admit his feelings to his best friend.

And to top it all off, whenever Mingi talked about Spider-Man, Yunho had to bite back the urge to spill everything. He wanted to tell Mingi, "That's me, that's me in that suit, and every time I save someone, I think of how you'd be cheering me on." But instead, he just kept quiet, pretending not to care, pretending not to notice Mingi's borderline obsession with his alter ego.

It was maddening, but also... kind of sweet. Because, deep down, Yunho knew that the day Mingi found out the truth, he'd finally see Yunho for who he really was. And that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

For now, though, he'd keep swinging through the city, dodging his best friend's relentless fangirling and hoping that maybe, someday, Mingi would fall for the person behind the mask just as hard as Yunho had fallen for him.

Mingi had already polished off his bowl of ramen and was now eyeing Yunho's half-finished noodles like one of Pavlov's dogs, practically salivating with anticipation. Yunho could see it in his eyes—Mingi's fixation on that last bit of broth and noodles, the silent plea that he was too proud to voice.

Yunho sighed, trying to ignore the pang of hunger he still felt. He'd barely eaten all day, and he definitely needed the energy boost if he was going to be out swinging across the city tonight. But he wasn't about to tell Mingi that. And besides, how could he deny Mingi something he wanted when he looked at Yunho with that hopeful expression?

With a small smile, Yunho nudged his bowl toward his best friend. "I'm not really that hungry anymore," he said, trying to sound casual. "You want some?"

Mingi's face lit up instantly, his hand darting forward as he practically snatched the bowl from Yunho's side. "Thanks, man! You're the best," Mingi mumbled, already absorbed in his new prize as he dug in with gusto. Watching him eat, so happy over something as simple as noodles, Yunho bit his lip, trying to hold back the dopey grin threatening to spread across his face.

God, he thought, feeling his chest warm. Mingi is so damn cute.

At that moment, Yunho would have gladly bought a thousand packets of ramen just to keep Mingi happy. It was almost ridiculous how easy it was for Mingi to make his heart race—just a smile, just a glance, just this unguarded moment with no one else around.

As Yunho was savoring the moment, his homemade radio buzzed, cutting through his thoughts. It was a simple, janky-looking device, something he'd thrown together in his dad's lab with a few spare parts and a lot of trial and error. But it worked, and now it was vibrating urgently in his pocket, signaling another police report of a crime in progress.

He sighed inwardly, glancing down at the pager. Of course, he thought. Right when things are getting good. But this was part of the deal he'd signed up for. Even if it meant missing out on moments like this with Mingi, there was a whole city out there counting on Spider-Man.

"Everything okay?" Mingi asked, pausing with his chopsticks mid-bite, his face full of genuine concern.

"Uh, yeah!" Yunho said quickly, shoving the pager back into his pocket. He forced a smile. "Just...my dad's lab, you know. More work to do."

Mingi rolled his eyes. "Again? Man, you're seriously overworked. Tell your dad to give you a break sometime."

"Yeah," Yunho chuckled weakly, guilt gnawing at him. But he was already running through the plan in his head: how to slip away, how to ditch Mingi without raising suspicion, how to don the red suit and be swinging across rooftops in the next few minutes. All while Mingi would be here, thinking Yunho was just another normal guy dealing with the demands of his scientist father.

"Go on," Mingi said, playfully shooing him off. "Go be a nerd."

Yunho gave him one last look, memorizing the way Mingi's face lit up in a smile before standing up. "I'll catch you later, yeah?"

"Don't keep me waiting too long," Mingi replied with a wink, returning to his noodles.

Yunho swallowed hard, hating that he had to leave but knowing he couldn't stay.

As soon as Yunho rounded the corner away from Mingi's line of sight, he pulled off his shirt, revealing the sleek, skin-tight suit he'd been hiding beneath his clothes. The deep red and stark black webbing clung to his body, practically molded to him, making him look every bit the superhero he was. It still felt surreal every time he saw himself in it. With one quick motion, he balled up his shirt and tucked it into his backpack, which he'd hidden behind a dumpster a few blocks down.

Yunho took a deep breath, glancing up at the skyline above him. The city sprawled out before him, darkened buildings lit by the neon signs and the occasional flash of passing cars below. He slipped his mask on, feeling the familiar sense of power wash over him. Out here, he wasn't Jeong Yunho, the lanky kid who barely got by in gym class. Here, he was Spider-Man—the city's silent protector.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the slight hum of energy that came from his fingertips, then shot a web toward the nearest building. The line stuck with a satisfying snap, and Yunho launched himself into the air, soaring up as his surroundings blurred past him. The wind whipped around him, and he twisted in midair, feeling the familiar adrenaline spike as he swung between buildings. Every time he swung was like rediscovering flight; the city was his playground, and each leap and arc made him feel truly alive.

He let go at the peak of his swing, flipping through the air before catching himself on another line of webbing. The rush of it all— the speed, the height, the impossible freedom—made everything else disappear. The world below was chaotic and uncertain, but up here, it was just him, the sky, and the hum of traffic far below.

As he reached the area of the city where the police report had come from, Yunho dropped lower, blending into the shadows of the buildings. He scanned the streets below, his senses heightened, picking up every noise, every flicker of movement. Somewhere nearby, a siren blared, and he saw the flash of police lights bouncing off the walls.

"Alright," he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the crime scene below—a robbery in progress at a small electronics shop. Two masked men were loading boxes into a van, oblivious to his arrival. Yunho smiled under his mask, feeling the thrill of the hunt course through him.

Without a second thought, he released his web and dropped straight down, landing silently on a ledge just above the robbers. His fingers twitched as he fired a line, snatching one of the men's guns out of his hand with a deft yank. The weapon skittered across the pavement, making the robbers whirl around in shock.

"Hey, fellas," Yunho called out, letting his voice take on that playful, taunting edge. "Didn't your moms ever tell you stealing's wrong?"

The robbers blinked, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. One of them raised his hands, only to have Yunho's web catch his wrist and yank him up like a marionette. With a swift swing, Yunho had him dangling from a nearby lamppost, his partner frozen in shock and immediately punched Yunho which would surely leave an ugly bruise but nothing is ugly when it comes to Yunho.

It all happened in a matter of seconds—webs shooting out, bodies flying, and within moments, both robbers were tied up and struggling helplessly, suspended from streetlights like they'd just been dropped off by the world's most unconventional delivery service.

Yunho grinned, giving one of the ropes a playful tug as he dangled the men a few inches higher. "Sit tight, the cops'll be here soon," he quipped, before taking a running leap and swinging back into the night.

As he soared through the air, the city rushing by beneath him, Yunho let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The adrenaline, the thrill, the power—all of it felt incredible. And though he was alone up here, he couldn't help but wish Mingi could see him like this, soaring effortlessly across the cityscape, untethered, free.

With one last powerful swing, he catapulted himself onto the roof of a tall building, looking out over the city he protected. Somewhere down there, Mingi was likely still eating his ramen, unaware of the secret life his best friend led. But that was okay at least Mingi would be thirsting over him by tomorrow.

Yunho slipped quietly through his apartment window, landing softly in his dimly lit bedroom. He exhaled, pulling off his mask and letting it dangle from his hand as he quickly locked the window behind him. The city was quiet now, the sounds of his patrol still buzzing in his ears, but tonight's mission had left him with more than just the usual ache in his muscles.

He winced, gingerly touching his cheek where one of the robbers had managed to get a lucky punch in. It was throbbing now, a hot pulse of pain that flared up each time he moved his jaw. Muttering under his breath, he flicked on the light, stepping up to his bathroom mirror.

The face staring back at him looked like he'd gone a few rounds in the ring. The bruise was already forming, an angry purple splotch spreading across his cheekbone, deepening as he gently poked at it. "Ouch," he hissed, jerking his fingers away. He hadn't expected a hit like that to hurt this much. His Spidey sense was sharp, but he wasn't invincible.

"Great," he muttered, turning his face to assess the damage from different angles. "Gonna have to tell Mingi I fell on something."

The thought made him grin, though it was a half-hearted one. He imagined Mingi poking fun at him, then probably dragging him to the nearest pharmacy to load up on ice packs and painkillers.

He glanced down at his suit, noticing a few scuffs and dirt smudges from his evening escapades.

The next day, Yunho walked into school trying to act as normal as possible. He'd barely gotten any sleep after last night's patrol, and the bruise on his cheek was a constant, aching reminder of how close he'd come to getting hit harder. It wasn't like he was a stranger to scrapes and bruises—being Spider-Man came with the territory—but there was something about this one that nagged at him. Maybe it was the fact that Mingi would definitely notice.

As soon as he stepped into the classroom, he saw Mingi at his usual spot, sitting near the back of the room, scrolling through his phone. His dark eyes flicked up and caught Yunho's, and Yunho felt a chill run down his spine. He could feel Mingi's gaze on him even before he spoke.

"Yunho, what the hell happened to your face?" Mingi's voice was laced with concern, the teasing edge missing for once.

Yunho froze, cursing inwardly. He'd hoped to get through the day without it being noticed. "It's nothing," Yunho said quickly, reaching up to casually rub at his cheek, hoping the bruise wouldn't look too bad.

Mingi didn't buy it for a second. He stood up so fast that his chair skidded backward. "Nothing? Dude, that's not nothing. You've got a damn bruise on your cheek! Did you get into a fight?"

"I'm fine, Mingi," Yunho said, trying to wave it off as casually as possible, but the guilt was already creeping in. He knew Mingi wouldn't let it go. Not when it came to something like this.

Mingi wasn't having it. He was already striding over to Yunho's side, eyes narrowing as he inspected the bruise more closely. "That looks bad. I'm taking you to the nurse's office."

Yunho opened his mouth to protest, but Mingi was already dragging him by the sleeve, ignoring his feeble attempts to get away. "I swear, if you don't let me take care of you right now, I'm going to tell everyone you got beat up by a girl," Mingi teased, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

"No, no, no, I'm fine, Mingi! Really," Yunho protested, trying to pull back, but Mingi had a death grip on him.

Mingi just shot him an incredulous look. "Yunho, are you kidding? You're walking around with a bruise on your face and you expect me to believe you're fine?"

Yunho sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. He shot a quick glance around the room, hoping no one else was watching, but the whole class was too busy chatting to notice.

"Fine," he muttered. "But only because you won't leave me alone."

Mingi grinned, already pulling him toward the door. "Damn straight. Now, sit down and let the nurse fix you up. You've been acting weird lately, and I'm not about to let you mess yourself up more."

Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at how determined Mingi was. If only he knew just how much Yunho was really hiding. He followed Mingi to the nurse's office, his stomach a little more twisted than usual. The more time he spent with Mingi, the more Yunho wished he could just tell him everything. But if he did... well, that would complicate things even more.

As they entered the nurse's office, Yunho sat down on the cot, his heart pounding in his chest. Mingi was already talking to the nurse, explaining that his best friend had gotten into a fight or something. Yunho didn't really pay attention to the conversation, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as the nurse began to clean up the bruise.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his thoughts were running wild. Mingi was so close, and Yunho wanted to tell him everything. He wanted Mingi to know who he really was, the person behind the mask, the one who could never quite be enough for Mingi. But how could he, when it was dangerous for Mingi to know? The risks were too high.

The nurse finished applying an ice pack to his bruise, and Mingi plopped down beside him, looking at him with a concerned frown. "You sure you're okay? You don't have to hide it from me, man. If something happened, you know you can tell me."

Yunho felt his heart stutter in his chest at the weight of Mingi's words. He wanted to tell him everything, but he couldn't—not yet, not like this.

"I'm fine, really," Yunho said, forcing a smile as he reached up to adjust the ice pack. "Just... had a rough night."

Mingi didn't seem convinced, but he dropped it, at least for now. "Alright, if you say so. Just... don't make a habit of getting yourself beaten up, okay?"

Yunho chuckled softly, the tension in his chest easing slightly as he met Mingi's gaze. "I'll try my best."

But as Mingi sat there beside him, Yunho couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Because Mingi would never know how much of a lie that was.

It was another late night when Yunho found himself swinging through the city, the cool night air rushing past him as he navigated the rooftops. His muscles were still sore from the earlier skirmish with the robbers, but he didn't mind. He was used to the aches and bruises, the constant battle between keeping the city safe and keeping his own body intact.

Tonight, though, he wasn't just patrolling for general crime. He had spotted a distress signal—a call from a girl on the edge of the neighborhood, her message flashing in his head like a beacon. Someone needed help. And Yunho wasn't going to let them down.

Swinging through the air with practiced ease, he landed silently behind a dimly lit alley, his senses immediately alert to the sounds of muffled voices and scuffling feet. He crouched low, peeking around the corner, and saw a young woman, barely a teenager, pinned against the brick wall by two men who looked like they'd just crawled out of a bar fight. They were pushing her around, their hands out of control, their words laced with drunken malice.

"Hey!" Yunho called out, stepping into the alley, his voice low but commanding.

The men turned, their eyes narrowing as they saw the figure standing there, backlit by the pale streetlight. The larger of the two men, a burly guy in a leather jacket, sneered. "What's this? Another hero wannabe?"

Yunho didn't answer. He just crouched into a stance, ready to fight. He didn't have time for words, not when someone was in danger.

The smaller man, apparently the one with a bit more sense, eyed Yunho cautiously. "What do you want? This is none of your business."

Yunho didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, his body a blur of motion as he delivered a precise kick to the smaller man's chest, sending him crashing into the nearby trash cans. The larger one growled in fury, charging at Yunho, fists swinging wildly.

Yunho was fast—so fast that the blow missed by inches, and he immediately countered with a sharp uppercut, knocking the guy off balance. But the larger man was strong, and he wasn't going down that easily. He swung again, this time landing a punch right to Yunho's jaw. The impact sent a shock of pain through his head, and for a split second, he felt his vision blur.

Shaking it off, Yunho used his agility to spin and duck, narrowly avoiding a heavy right hook. He countered with a quick jab to the man's ribs, then followed up with a roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling onto the pavement.

Yunho didn't stop there, though. The larger man was already getting back to his feet, more furious than ever, and Yunho could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. This wasn't going to be easy, not when they were both clearly stronger than your average thug.

But he was Spider-Man, and he wasn't about to let them get the better of him.

He shot a web at the man's ankle, pulling him off balance again, then darted in close, landing a series of quick punches to his midsection before another web shot out to pin the man to the nearby wall. The guy struggled, growling and cursing, but the webs were strong—stronger than any regular rope or chain.

With the larger man subdued for the moment, Yunho turned to the girl, who was still huddled against the wall, her eyes wide with fear. She didn't look hurt, but the terror in her gaze told him everything he needed to know.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, his voice softening. He didn't want to scare her further, not after everything she'd just gone through.

The girl nodded quickly, though her voice trembled as she spoke. "Y-yeah... I'm fine. Thank you... thank you so much."

Yunho gave her a quick smile, reassuring her. "Get out of here. Go somewhere safe."

Without waiting for her response, he turned back to the men, who were both struggling against the webs. He didn't need to stick around to wait for the police—he had already done his part. It wasn't his job to deal with them beyond stopping the crime in the moment. Besides, the longer he stayed, the more chance there was for someone to spot him without his mask.

He shot one last web at the two men to secure them in place before he started backing away into the shadows. As he prepared to leave, though, the larger man growled, his voice muffled by the webs.

"You're gonna regret this, Spider-Man," he snarled.

Yunho didn't even flinch. "Not as much as you will."

With that, he swung up into the night, leaving the scene behind him. But as he soared through the city, a tight knot of discomfort settled in his stomach.

Those men had been strong—stronger than most. And Yunho knew that if he wasn't careful if he kept pushing himself too far, there would come a time when even his enhanced strength and reflexes wouldn't be enough.

But that was a problem for another day.

Tonight, the city was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I mean not really, Mingi had invited Yunho over for dinner and it mattered more than anything.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It was a message from Mingi.

Mingi: "Yo, dinner at mine. Don't ghost me this time."

Yunho smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a little. Mingi had no idea what Yunho had been doing all night, and Yunho was more than grateful for that. It was one of the few things he could keep private. As much as he loved being Spider-Man, sometimes he wished he didn't have to juggle the mask with everything else.

Yunho: "On my way. You better not be cooking something weird this time."

The response was almost instant.

Mingi: "I swear, if you don't show up this time, I'll throw you off my balcony. And for the record, I'm making stir-fry, so don't be dramatic."

Yunho grinned and quickly typed back.

Yunho: "I'll be there. Hold your horses."

Within seconds, he was already scaling a nearby building, his mind racing but his body on autopilot. He swung across the skyline, landing softly on the balcony of Mingi's 17th-floor apartment with ease.

"Wassup, man," Yunho said, tapping lightly on the glass of Mingi's balcony door, hoping to catch him off guard.

Mingi's head shot up from where he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, a mix of surprise and disbelief on his face. "Yo, dude, what the hell? How are you 17 floors up my balcony?" Mingi asked, his voice a mixture of shock and amusement.

Yunho just shrugged, flashing a nonchalant grin as he stepped into Mingi's apartment. "I have my ways," he said lightly, his voice casual, though internally, he was a little out of breath. It wasn't like he didn't have a good excuse. He was Spider-Man, after all. But Mingi didn't need to know that.

"Man, seriously, you need to stop doing that. I swear, you're gonna get us both in trouble one of these days," Mingi muttered, though there was an affectionate smile tugging at his lips. He didn't seem fazed by Yunho's bizarre way of showing up at his apartment, though it was clear he was starting to doubt something.

"Hey, when you have the best view in town, why not use it?" Yunho teased, stepping inside and heading for the kitchen.

Mingi rolled his eyes but grabbed a couple of plates, placing them on the counter. "Yeah, sure, that's definitely the reason," he said dryly. "But honestly, you've gotta stop sneaking around like that if my dad finds out he'll think weird."

Yunho shrugged, trying to downplay it. " I'm just here for dinner. That's all I'm gonna get caught doing tonight."

Mingi shot him a skeptical look as he started making stir-fry. "You really need to stop getting yourself involved in stuff. You're acting weirder and weirder lately."

Yunho froze for a moment, his thoughts momentarily straying to his double life. What could he say? That he had been Spider-Man all night, stopping robberies, fighting off thugs, and saving the city? That his bruises were from a fight with a group of criminals who were just too damn strong? No way. Mingi didn't need that kind of stress in his life.

"Yeah, I've just been... busy. You know, life and all," Yunho replied with a slight chuckle, trying to sound casual.

Mingi, ever the observant one, didn't seem entirely convinced. His eyes narrowed slightly as he set the pan down and turned to face Yunho. "Yeah, busy. But busy with what exactly?"

Yunho quickly shifted the conversation, wanting to steer Mingi away from any more questions. "I'm just tired, man. You know how it is. Let's just eat, yeah?"

Mingi eyed him for a moment longer, but then sighed, relenting. "Fine, but if you're gonna keep acting like this, you're gonna make me worry."

Yunho flashed his friend a reassuring smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He was too tired to keep up the act, but for Mingi's sake, he tried. "I'm fine, I promise."

Mingi seemed to buy it—he always did. As the smell of the stir-fry began to fill the apartment, Yunho felt himself relax a little. It wasn't often that he had moments like this. Mingi had no idea what was really going on in Yunho's life, and Yunho wasn't sure how long he could keep pretending. But for now, he was content.

For a few hours, he didn't have to be Spider-Man. He could just be Yunho, hanging out with his best friend.

That was enough for him—for now.

Yunho picked up on the tension, that heavy silence settling between bites of stir-fry, and he couldn't ignore it any longer. He set down his chopsticks and looked at Mingi, brows furrowed in concern.

"Mingi, seriously. What's up? Something feels... off."

Mingi sighed deeply, avoiding Yunho's eyes as he placed his own chopsticks down, and to Yunho's surprise, he saw the unmistakable glimmer of tears gathering in Mingi's eyes. The sight pulled at his heart, and he sat up straighter, leaning in to catch Mingi's gaze.

"Yunho, you've been so distant lately," Mingi said, his voice wavering. "I mean, seriously, man—are you making new friends? Or, like... doing drugs? Do you have some secret girlfriend you're not telling me about?" His voice cracked slightly, his usual humor replaced by a genuine sadness. "Are you... doing something dangerous? I just feel like we're drifting apart so much, and it's like I'm going to lose you."

The words hit Yunho hard. This was so typical of Mingi, the overthinker—the friend who always worried that Yunho would leave him behind someday. Yunho knew it was because of Mingi's past, the friends who had come and gone, people who'd let him down, leaving Mingi wary of everyone except him. And Yunho had always promised that he'd never be one of those people.

"Mingi..." Yunho murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's not what you think. I'm not leaving you, and I'm definitely not doing anything that would make me, I don't know... too cool for you or whatever." He chuckled softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Mingi's shoulder.

But the look in Mingi's eyes didn't waver. "Then what is it, Yunho? You're not around as much. You disappear without a word. And when you come back, you're... different. Like... like you're carrying something heavy, and you won't let me help you with it."

Yunho swallowed, words jamming in his throat, as he tried to find something—anything—that could explain his recent distance. He wanted to tell Mingi everything, to open up and share the truth about his life as Spider-Man. Mingi was his person, the one who knew him best, the one he could always lean on. Keeping this huge part of his life a secret felt like tearing apart something special between them.

But how could he explain? Mingi didn't know the first thing about what it meant to be a hero. And Yunho had seen all the Spider-Man movies; he knew the pattern, the tragic twist that seemed to haunt every story. Every single person Peter Parker had ever loved ended up... gone. It was as if love itself was his curse, woven into his identity. Each one lost was a canon event, something that was inevitable, fate's price for having something good, something beautiful.

Yunho had watched those movies with wide eyes, feeling a mixture of thrill and dread. He'd seen how Spider-Man's enemies went after the people Peter loved—Aunt May, Gwen, even Mary Jane. The villains never fought fair; they knew exactly where to strike, exactly who to target to make Spider-Man suffer. And that scared Yunho. Because while being Spider-Man was exhilarating, it also painted a target on everyone close to him.

Looking at Mingi, Yunho felt that tight squeeze in his chest, the same fear he'd always ignored. Mingi was more than a friend; he was the one person Yunho couldn't imagine living without. And the thought of putting Mingi in danger, of letting him become part of that twisted pattern? It was enough to make him pause, to bury the truth even deeper. For both their sakes.

But seeing the hurt in Mingi's eyes made him waver. If he lost Mingi's trust, what would be left?

He took a deep breath and tried to reassure him. "Look, I... I know it seems like I'm acting weird, and yeah, maybe I've been distracted lately. But I promise, it's not what you think. There's no girlfriend, no drugs, no bad crowd. Just... life, I guess." He gave a small, strained smile. "You're still my best friend. You're not losing me, okay?"

Mingi bit his lip, seeming to wrestle with Yunho's words, wanting to believe him but clearly still hesitant. "But why do I feel like I'm the last person who knows what's really going on with you? I thought... I thought I'd be the first to know everything."

Yunho's chest tightened, guilt gnawing at him. "Mingi, you're still the first person I think about—always. I know it doesn't make sense right now, but please, just... trust me."

Mingi exhaled slowly, nodding but still looking pained. "I do trust you. I just don't want to lose you." His voice was barely a whisper, filled with the vulnerability Yunho knew Mingi rarely let anyone see.

"You won't," Yunho replied softly, his own heart aching as he watched Mingi's face. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere."

Mingi managed a small, hopeful smile. "You better mean that."

Without thinking, Yunho leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Mingi and pulling him into a tight hug. He could feel Mingi's arms slide around him in return, holding him just as tightly, as if afraid to let go. Yunho's heart pounded hard enough that he was sure Mingi could feel it, but he ignored it, closing his eyes and letting himself melt into the closeness of the moment.

For a few seconds, the world outside faded away. No more villains, no more bruises hidden under long sleeves or secrets he carried alone. It was just Yunho and Mingi, two friends who knew each other better than anyone else, clinging to that connection as if it was their lifeline.

Mingi's head rested against Yunho's shoulder, his breathing warm against Yunho's neck, and Yunho squeezed him tighter, afraid that if he let go, the whole moment would slip away.

"Promise you'll tell me if you're ever in trouble?" Mingi's voice was muffled against his shoulder but thick with emotion. "I just... don't want to be left in the dark."

Yunho hesitated, the words catching in his throat, but he forced himself to nod. "I promise," he whispered, even if the promise felt bittersweet. He knew he couldn't tell Mingi everything—not yet. But for now, just being here, with Mingi in his arms, was enough. It had to be enough.

You might be thinking, if Yunho became a superhero after his dad's weird, experimental spiders squirted on him, he should've gone straight to his father, confessed, and tried to find an antidote. But that wasn't an option—not in Yunho's world. His father wasn't just any scientist; he was what most people would call a mad scientist, someone whose work was fueled by ambition that knew no bounds, and a curiosity that frequently blurred into obsession. 

He conducted experiments that Yunho was certain would be deemed not only "unethical" but outright illegal. And it wasn't just lab rats or insects; he'd crossed lines Yunho couldn't even bear to think about, lines that made Yunho question his father's humanity.

If Yunho's dad ever found out his experiment had turned his own son into something other, something superhuman, he wouldn't hesitate to tear him apart to understand it. Yunho's father would see him as nothing more than a successful experiment, a breakthrough to be dissected and tested. And if he found out Yunho was Spider-Man? That he'd become something his father dreamed of creating? Yunho shivered just imagining the lengths his father might go to uncover the secret.

In his father's world, Yunho would become the property of science—no longer his own person, but a specimen.

There was no one Yunho feared more, no villain more sinister in his mind, than his own father. The man reminded him of every trait of the Green Goblin—the ruthlessness, the ambition, the utter disregard for anyone or anything that stood in the way of his so-called "progress." His father was capable of horrific things, and Yunho knew if his Spider-Man powers ever became known, they would become just another tool for his father's dangerous research.

And as for the spiders—the ones Yunho had seen in that dark, foreboding room where his transformation began? Every single one of them had mysteriously died not long after Yunho's incident. It was as if their sole purpose had been to transform him and then... simply vanish, erasing any traces of the experiment. But even so, Yunho knew that the experiments, the syringes, the toxins his father kept were still there, waiting, ready to be used in ways Yunho couldn't imagine.

If the knowledge of his powers ever fell into the wrong hands—especially his father's—the world would be... completely, utterly FUCKED.

Later that evening, after the tension from earlier had faded, Yunho found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the big TV, right between Mingi's legs. The two of them were locked in an intense game of Valorant , the living room alive with the sound of rapid gunfire and character quips blasting from the speakers. Yunho was practically bouncing as he leaned forward, completely absorbed in the match, and Mingi was right there behind him, one arm casually wrapped around Yunho's waist, holding him steady every time he got too excited and threatened to topple forward.

This was normal for them—a ritual of sorts. Gaming nights had always been their way of unwinding together, an excuse to get close without thinking too much about it. To Mingi, it was nothing new. But for Yunho, these moments always stirred something deeper.

"Dude, you're getting too into it!" Mingi teased, laughing as Yunho leaned forward to focus on his next move.

"What? I have to win!" Yunho shot back, his voice laced with determination. He didn't bother to explain how his heart raced every time he felt Mingi's arm pull him back, a reminder of Mingi's closeness, the comforting weight of his hold grounding him in place.

"Just don't lean too far forward, or you'll knock the controller out of my hand again," Mingi said, pulling Yunho back with a slight tug. Yunho laughed, letting himself be drawn back into Mingi's chest, feeling the warmth at his back and trying to ignore the flutter in his chest.

"Fine, fine," Yunho replied, pretending to be annoyed as he tried to refocus on the screen. Mingi's hand stayed steady around his waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles against Yunho's shirt.

"Alright, last round, then it's my turn to beat you," Mingi declared confidently, leaning closer so his chin nearly rested on Yunho's shoulder. Yunho's pulse sped up at the nearness, but he kept his focus on the game, determined not to let Mingi know how much this meant to him.

But then Mingi leaned in even closer, whispering with a playful grin, "C'mon, man, you're the one who said you're a pro. Show me how a pro does it."

Yunho's hands slipped on the controller, his character on screen suddenly stumbling. "O-oh, right! Pro moves coming up!" he said, trying to recover both his in-game aim and his composure, which was nearly impossible with Mingi this close, his breath warm against Yunho's neck.

Mingi chuckled, pulling him back once again as Yunho got overly excited, and Yunho gave up on trying to keep a straight face, a goofy grin breaking through as he muttered, "You know, maybe I'm just letting you win."

Mingi laughed, squeezing his waist. "Sure, Yunho. Whatever you need to tell yourself." They laughed together, their voices blending into the late-night quiet

"Dude, you wanna go to the skatepark right now? My parents aren't coming home till late," Mingi suggested with a grin, completely unaware of the internal panic he was triggering in Yunho.

Yunho's heart skipped a beat, nerves tightening his chest. He wasn't just bad at skateboarding—he was practically a disaster on wheels, with an impressive track record of faceplants and bruises. Just the thought of stepping on a board had his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But when he looked over at Mingi, eyes sparkling with excitement, Yunho felt himself wavering.

"Uh... yeah, sure, sounds fun," he heard himself say, doing his best to sound casual. The little voice in his head reminding him of his past wipeouts was drowned out by Mingi's excitement. Because if Mingi wanted him to go, how could he possibly say no?

"You sure?" Mingi asked, raising an eyebrow. "Last time, you said skateboards were just a 'death wish on wheels.'"

Yunho rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to give away just how nervous he was. "Oh, that? I was just joking, you know?" he said with a shaky laugh. "Besides, I think I've grown a bit braver since then."

Mingi grinned and clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit! Let's go! It'll be awesome, I promise."

And so, Yunho found himself a few minutes later at the skatepark, heart pounding as he eyed the ramps and rails around them. Mingi grabbed his board and kicked off effortlessly, gliding across the concrete with a natural ease that Yunho found both impressive and slightly intimidating.

"Come on, Yunho! Just give it a try," Mingi encouraged, riding back over to him. He held out his board, eyebrows raised in challenge. Yunho gulped, gripping the board a bit too tightly as he took a deep breath.

"Okay, just... don't laugh if I eat it," Yunho warned, his face flushed.

"Never," Mingi replied, grinning mischievously. "And if you fall, I'll catch you. How's that?"

Yunho felt his face heat up even more at that, but he managed a nod, stepping onto the board with shaky confidence.

Yunho took a deep breath, ready to prepare for a familiar clumsy spill... but as he pushed off, something unexpected happened. His balance was perfect, his footing stable and secure, and he started rolling with ease. The board responded to his every subtle movement like it was an extension of his own body. For a second, Yunho just glided forward, stunned at how easy it felt—like he'd been doing this all his life.

Mingi's face lit up as he watched. "Yo! Look at you go!" he cheered, clapping excitedly.

Encouraged, Yunho decided to push his luck a little more. He picked up speed, turning smoothly around the edge of the bowl, and before he knew it, he was trying out a few tricks he'd only ever seen on TV. He crouched down, popping an ollie over a curb like it was nothing, and even threw in a little kickflip, his Spidey reflexes kicking in and guiding him effortlessly.

Mingi's jaw dropped. "Dude! Where did this come from?"

Yunho grinned, feeling a thrill he hadn't felt before. The confidence of Spider-Man surged within him as he approached the half-pipe. Without thinking, he pushed up and soared off the lip, catching air and landing perfectly back on the board, every movement flawless.

He skated back over to Mingi, barely out of breath, heart pounding more from excitement than exertion.

"Okay, seriously, where did you learn that ?" Mingi asked, both impressed and a little suspicious. "I thought you said skateboards were terrifying?"

Yunho chuckled, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Guess I just had it in me all along?" he said, still slightly breathless.

Mingi rolled his eyes, nudging him. "Man, next time, don't hold back on me. We could've been skateboarding pros together!"

Yunho shakily extended a hand forward "You wanna skate on the same board together? I can drive us around"

Mingi excitedly nodded running forward and steppig on Yunho's skateboard behind him

Yunho steadied himself, feeling a spark of excitement as Mingi hopped on the board behind him, gripping Yunho's waist for balance. Their laughter filled the air as Yunho carefully pushed off, his Spidey senses keeping him stable as he guided the skateboard around the empty park.

With Mingi's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Yunho couldn't help but feel his heartbeat quicken. Mingi was close enough that Yunho could feel his breath on the back of his neck, and despite the casual setting, it felt more intimate than any of their previous adventures. Mingi leaned in, giggling, "Man, I didn't know you'd turn into such a pro at this! My own personal chauffeur!"

Yunho chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

They cruised down the path, their shadows dancing on the pavement under the streetlights. Yunho took them over gentle slopes and around turns, his movements so smooth that Mingi trusted him completely, letting out an occasional cheer or whoop as they picked up speed.

"Yo, Yunho!" Mingi shouted playfully. "Take that ramp over there!"

Yunho looked at the ramp ahead, eyes narrowing as a grin spread across his face. "Hang on tight, then!" He shifted his weight, aiming for the ramp with just enough momentum to get some air. They hit the edge and lifted off, soaring for a moment before touching back down smoothly, Mingi letting out an excited yell as they landed.

Mingi laughed, clapping Yunho's shoulder. "That was awesome! We need to do this more often, man. You're... you're full of surprises."

As they slowed to a stop, Yunho glanced over his shoulder, meeting Mingi's eyes. "Yeah... guess you bring it out of me," he said softly, his smile mirroring Mingi's, though a bit more bashful.

(No Yunho that's your Spiderman powers)

Yunho's smile faltered the moment his radio buzzed to life, a sharp crackle cutting through the air. His gaze shot over to the device, his pulse spiking as the message came through: "Assailant, armed, downtown. Location: Alley near Crescent Park, assailant are reaching for the bank."

His breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs. The situation was urgent. The man in question wasn't just any criminal—he was dangerous, armed with a gun. And worse, he was close. Very close. Yunho's instincts flared, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

Mingi, still laughing and out of breath from their skateboard tricks, looked at Yunho's sudden change in demeanor. The joy drained from his face as he followed Yunho's gaze to the radio. "What's wrong?" Mingi asked, his voice turning serious as he noticed the tension in Yunho's posture.

Yunho didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he grabbed his skateboard, his hands trembling slightly as he tucked it under his arm. "Mingi, we need to go," he said, his voice tight. The urgency was clear, and though he tried to sound calm, his heart was pounding in his chest.

Mingi's brows furrowed. "What's going on, Yunho? What's wrong?" he pressed, his tone full of concern, his usual playfulness replaced by worry.

Yunho looked him in the eyes, trying to swallow down the panic rising in his throat. He couldn't tell Mingi the truth—not yet. He couldn't risk it. "Just... just trust me, okay? We need to go. Now." His words were laced with enough urgency to finally get Mingi to stop questioning.

Before Mingi could respond, Yunho took off toward the edge of the skatepark, his heart already in overdrive. The alley where the assailant had been spotted wasn't far, but it felt like an eternity away as his mind raced. He could already feel the familiar shift in his body—the adrenaline flooding his veins, muscles tightening in preparation.

Mingi hesitated for a second before following after him, confusion still evident on his face. "Yunho, what the hell's going on?" he called, his footsteps quickening to catch up.

Yunho shot him a quick glance over his shoulder, his chest tight as he focused on the task ahead. "I'll explain later. I promise."

Yunho and Mingi jogged back towards Mingi's apartment building, but the moment they reached the front door, Yunho's phone buzzed again. His heart dropped as he read the message that flashed across the screen—an emergency, and this time, it was too close to home. He could already feel the pressure building in his chest, the familiar weight of responsibility settling in.

"Mingi," Yunho said, his voice low and urgent. He grabbed his best friend's shoulder, pulling him to a stop. Mingi turned, looking at him with a frown, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What is it, Yunho? What's going on?" Mingi asked, his voice laced with concern.

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I need you to promise me something." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "Please, stay inside. Don't come out. Not tonight."

Mingi's eyes widened. "What? Dude, come on, what's happening? Are you in trouble?" He tried to reach for Yunho's arm, but Yunho quickly stepped back, his body tensing.

"Mingi," Yunho said, voice almost desperate, "I can't explain it now. But it's dangerous. I just... I need you to stay inside. Promise me."

Mingi hesitated, clearly torn. His eyes darted between Yunho and the building's entrance, instinctively wanting to follow him, but seeing the genuine fear in Yunho's eyes made him pause. It was rare for Yunho to look this serious, this shaken.

"Fine," Mingi finally said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I'll stay inside, okay? But you better explain everything later. All of it." His voice softened, and Yunho could hear the concern in his words.

Yunho nodded quickly, relief flooding through him. He didn't want to leave Mingi like this, but he had no choice. He needed to protect him. Protect them both.

"Stay safe, Mingi. Please." Yunho's voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his own fear creeping in. He didn't wait for Mingi's reply. Without another word, he turned and sprinted down the street, his body already shifting into the familiar rhythm of Spider-Man.

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, watching his best friend disappear into the night, heart pounding. Something wasn't right, but he trusted Yunho—he had to. Secrets aren't always free, they come with a cost.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and entered the building, locking the door behind him. As much as he wanted to chase after Yunho, he knew deep down that his best friend had his reasons. But the unease lingered. Something was about to happen, and Mingi wasn't sure he was ready for whatever that was.

Yunho's heart raced as he approached the scene, his mind focused on one thing: getting inside without being seen. The bank's front doors were wide open, and he could hear shouts and the sharp crack of gunshots echoing through the street. The robbers were inside, and by the sound of it, things had already escalated.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho climbed up the side of a nearby building, his fingers finding the familiar grooves in the brick. He reached the roof in seconds, his mind already calculating the best angle of entry. He crouched low, preparing himself for whatever awaited below.

There were four robbers inside, all armed, two of them pacing near the front, the other two near the vault. People were shouting, trying to shield themselves, but it was clear the robbers weren't taking any chances. They weren't here for money—they were here to send a message.

With a deep exhale, Yunho swung down from the rooftop, his body twisting midair as he landed lightly on the top of a nearby column. The robbers didn't even see it coming.

He dropped to the floor with cat-like precision, webbing one of the robbers to the wall before he could even blink. The man struggled, his gun falling to the ground with a loud clatter. Yunho wasted no time, kicking the second robber in the stomach, and sending him crashing into a nearby table.

"Stay down," Yunho muttered, glancing around. He was already forming a plan to take the other two down, but his body burned with the effort. The adrenaline was a rush, but his senses were stretched thin. He needed to be faster.

One of the robbers, a large man in a leather jacket, whipped around, firing a shot that Yunho barely dodged. The bullet grazed his side, the sharp pain flaring through his ribs as he stumbled back. He bit his lip, pushing past the pain, refusing to let it slow him down.

"Damn," Yunho muttered under his breath, his side throbbing as blood began to seep through the fabric of his suit. He was going to need to be more careful.

The robber with the gun advanced, aiming it directly at Yunho. He barely had time to react. Yunho leapt forward, attempting to kick the gun out of his hands, but the man was quicker, slamming the barrel of the gun into Yunho's shoulder. Pain exploded through his arm, but Yunho gritted his teeth, twisting his body to bring a fist crashing into the robber's jaw.

The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, but before Yunho could capitalize on it, another robber lunged at him from behind, swinging a metal pipe. It struck Yunho square in the back, and a sharp cry of pain escaped his lips as he crashed into the floor. The wind was knocked out of him, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"You're not so tough, Spider-Man," the robber sneered, kicking him in the ribs.

Yunho's mind buzzed with pain, but he could hear the faint sound of sirens approaching. He didn't have much time. He had to finish this, now.

With one swift motion, Yunho threw a webbing blast to the ceiling above, swinging himself out of range just as the man swung the pipe again. He caught his breath, pulling his body upright despite the pain shooting through his back and ribs.

The large robber was still coming, charging at him with brute strength. Yunho's head spun with dizziness, his vision blurring at the edges as blood soaked into his suit. But he couldn't stop. Not now.

Yunho launched himself forward, throwing a series of rapid punches to the man's midsection. The robber grunted, stumbling back, and Yunho followed up with a powerful roundhouse kick that sent him sprawling across the floor.

He wasn't able to savor the moment, though. Another shot rang out, and Yunho turned just in time to see the barrel of a gun aimed at his face.

No...

The world seemed to slow as Yunho's instincts kicked in. He dropped to the side, the bullet grazing his cheek, leaving a bloody streak along his jaw. The force of the near-miss sent a violent jolt through his body, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Gasping for air, he forced himself back up, the pain overwhelming. His ribs were on fire, his muscles screaming for relief, but he couldn't stop. He had to finish this.

With shaky hands, he fired a webbing shot, snagging the gun from the last robber's hand. He pulled it toward him, slamming the man to the ground with a forceful tackle, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. The robber struggled, but Yunho's grip was ironclad, even through the pain.

Panting heavily, blood dripping from several cuts and bruises, Yunho stood, barely able to keep himself upright. His suit was torn in several places, and the throbbing in his side was unbearable.

But he didn't stop. Not until every one of the robbers was webbed to the floor, incapacitated, waiting for the police to arrive.

The sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Yunho pulled himself together, staggering toward the exit, but before he could make it out, his vision blurred again, dizziness overtaking him.

With a final glance at the now-secured robbers, Yunho pulled himself up, his bloodied hand gripping the wall for support as he limped toward the window.

Yunho's father would be home tonight, he couldn't afford to go home, not in this state. Quickly he typed a message to his mother

"Staying at Mingi's tonight, love you Mom"

Yunho hit send, his fingers trembling as he leaned against the window frame, taking in a shaky breath. He could barely keep his eyes open; everything around him felt like it was spinning. His side was on fire, each movement sending sharp pangs through his chest, but he couldn't afford to collapse here. His father would never let him live it down if he was found in this condition.

Taking one last look at the robbers, who were now completely immobilized by his webs, Yunho forced himself to stand upright, his legs like jelly beneath him. The sirens were getting closer, but he needed to get out before anyone saw him.

He pushed off the frame and wobbled to the edge of the building, looking down to see how far the drop was. It wasn't far—a perfect distance for a web swing. But the dizziness was making his head spin, and the pain in his body was nearly overwhelming. Still, he couldn't afford to waste time.

With a steadying breath, Yunho shot a web at a nearby building, using the momentum to propel himself into the air. His body swayed, every twist and turn sending waves of nausea through him. He could feel his muscles protesting with every move, but he kept going, pushing himself further and further from the scene.

When he finally made it to Mingi's building, he didn't swing into the window like he usually did. Instead, he carefully climbed up the side of the building, his strength already spent, before collapsing onto the balcony. The pain was almost unbearable now, but he had to make it inside.

Yunho knocked softly on Mingi's window, wincing as the movement caused his side to flare up with agony. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, but there was no way he could hide it. He had to tell Mingi the truth.

He was lightheaded, barely able to keep his balance, but somehow, he managed to stay upright long enough for Mingi to appear.

"Yunho?! What the hell?!" Mingi's eyes widened as he saw his best friend standing there, drenched in blood and barely able to hold himself up. His mind raced—how had Yunho gotten this hurt? What was he doing up here?

Without thinking, Mingi threw open the window, pulling Yunho inside with more urgency than Yunho expected. His best friend's hands were shaking as they helped him stumble toward the couch.

"Mingi, I—" Yunho began, but Mingi immediately cut him off, his eyes frantic.

"Don't say anything. What the hell happened to you? How are you even standing?!" Mingi's voice cracked as he sat Yunho down, clearly panicked. "I'm calling an ambulance. No, wait, you look like you've been shot! Yunho, you—what happened?!"

Yunho leaned back on the couch, gritting his teeth against the pain as Mingi moved to grab his phone. "Mingi, stop. No ambulance. Don't call anyone." Yunho's voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. "Please. I can't have anyone know."

Mingi stopped in his tracks, looking at him like he was crazy. "What? Are you out of your mind? You're bleeding out, Yunho! I'm not just gonna—"

Yunho winced, his hand clutching his side where the gunshot wound was throbbing. "Please," he said again, quieter this time. "I'll be fine... just... don't call anyone, okay?"

Mingi was still frozen for a moment, staring at his best friend like he couldn't understand how this happened. The blood, the injuries, Yunho sitting here with a gunshot wound—and Mingi still didn't have the full picture. What kind of life was Yunho living that led to something like this?

"Dude," Mingi said slowly, his eyes searching Yunho's face. "You're covered in blood and you're not telling me what's going on. I've known you my whole life, but I've never seen you like this. What the hell do you mean, 'don't call anyone'? You're seriously freaking me out right now."

Yunho closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening as he considered how much to say. He couldn't exactly tell Mingi the truth—there was no way he could. His secret had to stay just that, a secret. But the truth was, he hated keeping things from Mingi. Mingi was his best friend, his person. But Spider-Man wasn't something he could share. Not yet.

"I just... I can't explain it right now," Yunho said, his voice heavy with regret. "Just trust me, Mingi, please. I'll be okay, I just need to rest."

Mingi looked at him, his lips trembling as he tried to process what was happening. He didn't understand. He couldn't. No one could. Yunho had always been a bit of a mystery, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

"But... but you're hurt, man. Badly. You're telling me not to call anyone?!" Mingi's voice rose in frustration and fear. "What happened? Was it... was it a fight? Were you attacked? Who did this to you?"

Yunho swallowed, his throat dry. His eyes flickered around the room, not meeting Mingi's. "It... it doesn't matter. It's over. The robbers are taken care of, okay?" He winced as he tried to sit up straight, but his body protested with sharp pain. "It's just... one of those things. I'm fine, I'm really fine."

Mingi didn't seem convinced. He sat next to Yunho, his face a mixture of worry and disbelief. "I don't get it. Why are you covered in blood? Why are you lying to me right now? I don't understand..."

Mingi suddenly stood up already reaching towards the door "I'm calling my mom, seriously. This isn't just some—"

Before Mingi could even finish his sentence, Yunho's hand shot out, his fingers moving faster than Mingi could react. With a flick of his wrist, a web shot across the room, wrapping around Mingi's wrist like a vice grip.

Mingi yelped, stumbling forward as he was yanked back with surprising force. His balance faltered, and before he could stop it, he twirled mid-air like a dancer caught in a gust of wind, his legs twisting around as if he were some sort of gravity-defying acrobat.

"Yunho?! What the—"

Before Mingi could finish the sentence, he crashed down onto Yunho's lap with a soft, surprised grunt. Yunho, already struggling to sit up from his injuries, instinctively caught him, his chest tightening as Mingi's weight pressed down on him.

"See?" Yunho's voice was strained but a bit breathless from the effort. He gritted his teeth, raising his shirt just enough to show Mingi the wounds.

The blood was still there, staining his shirt, but as Mingi looked closer, the marks seemed to be... healing. The gashes were closing up, the skin rapidly knitting together before their eyes, leaving only faint scars as evidence of the damage.

Mingi's breath hitched. "You—" he started, his voice trembling as his gaze flicked from the wounds to Yunho's face, searching for some explanation that made sense.

But before Mingi could finish his thought, Yunho moved. With a sudden urgency, he grabbed Mingi's face and pulled him in, closing the distance between them in a rush. He didn't think. Didn't pause. He just kissed Mingi, hard and fast, pressing his lips to his in a desperate surge of emotions.

Mingi froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of it, the force of Yunho's kiss leaving him breathless. The world around them blurred—his confusion, the danger, the overwhelming fear—all disappeared for that brief, stolen moment.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, and his thoughts were jumbled, too fast to process. The kiss was rough, filled with raw emotion, like he was trying to pour everything he was into it—everything he had kept hidden for so long. If Mingi was going to find out he was Spider-Man, if this was the moment where all of Yunho's secrets came crashing down, then maybe, just maybe, it was time to let him know everything.

Yunho's heart was pounding in his chest, a chaotic rhythm that matched the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind. His breath hitched as he kissed Mingi, the pressure of it almost desperate as if he were pouring everything—every secret, every fear, every part of himself he'd kept locked away—into the moment. It was reckless, unguarded, like he couldn't hold back anymore, like the floodgates were open and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.

Mingi, for a split second, seemed to freeze, his hands stiff against Yunho's chest as the kiss deepened. Then, against the heat of Yunho's lips, he mumbled, almost too quietly to hear, "You're Spider-Man..."

Yunho's breath caught. It was as if Mingi had ripped the truth from his chest without even trying. But instead of pulling away, Yunho's grip tightened, his long fingers curling around Mingi's neck, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. "Shut up," he muttered, his voice low and strained, a rough edge creeping into it. He leaned in even more, pressing Mingi back against him, pulling him deeper into the kiss, almost as if he could swallow the words, erase the question before it fully registered.

His other hand slid into Mingi's hair, tugging gently, fingers threading through the strands as he deepened the kiss further. The heat between them intensified a tangle of lips and breath, a collision of everything Yunho had tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn't care about the consequences anymore, didn't care about the secrets or the pain that might come. For this moment, it was just them—no masks, no lies, no barriers.

Mingi's hands moved, hesitant at first, unsure, but then they found their way to Yunho's chest, fingers brushing against the bloodstained fabric of his shirt. He could feel the rapid pulse beneath Yunho's skin, the fast thrum of a heartbeat that told him just how real this was, how raw the emotions were between them.

Yunho's kiss grew fiercer, more insistent, like he was trying to make Mingi feel all of it—everything he was, everything he had been hiding. But at that moment, he wasn't Spider-Man. He wasn't the broken, damaged hero with secrets and lies. He was just Yunho, the boy who loved Mingi more than anything in the world.

And as Mingi's fingers curled into his shirt, as he melted into the kiss, Yunho's chest ached with the weight of it all. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe Mingi would understand, maybe he wouldn't. But Yunho couldn't hold back anymore. Not now.

He pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing against Mingi's in soft, breathless whispers. "I didn't want to tell you like this. But... you're right. I'm Spider-Man." The words felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, but when Mingi didn't pull away, didn't recoil in fear or confusion, Yunho felt a small sense of relief.

Mingi, still catching his breath, looked at him with wide eyes. "You're serious?"

Yunho gave a shaky nod, his hands still gently holding Mingi's face, his thumb brushing over his cheek as he searched for any sign of understanding. "I'm serious, Mingi. I never meant for you to get caught up in all this, but... I couldn't keep hiding it from you anymore. You deserve to know the truth."

For a moment, Mingi didn't say anything. He just stared at Yunho, his eyes searching his face for any sign that this was some sort of joke. But the sincerity in Yunho's gaze told him everything. This was real.

But then, confusion and something else—hurt?—flashed in Mingi's eyes, and he pulled back, breaking their connection. He stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of everything that was happening. "No, you idiot..." Mingi's voice was shaky, a bit higher than usual, as he locked eyes with Yunho. "The kiss... why?" His gaze was intense, demanding answers that Yunho wasn't entirely sure how to give.

Yunho blinked, caught off guard by the question. His heart ached at the uncertainty in Mingi's voice, but he couldn't just brush it off. The kiss—why had he done it? It hadn't been planned. He hadn't thought it through. It had just happened in the heat of the moment, driven by something deeper than logic. Something that had been festering inside him for so long.

"I... I don't know," Yunho admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest as Mingi's voice grew louder, more frustrated. "You just kissed me and you don't know?!" Mingi's words hit him harder than he expected. The anger and confusion were clear on his face, but there was something else beneath it all—hurt, maybe, or fear. Yunho's throat tightened, unsure how to navigate this. He had expected Mingi to be more focused on the revelation of his secret identity, but instead, Mingi was fixated on the kiss.

Yunho took a step forward, reaching out but hesitating as he saw Mingi step back, the space between them growing wider. "Mingi... I—"

"Seriously, Yunho?" Mingi cut him off, his voice shaking with emotion. "You kissed me. I'm trying to figure out why. What do you expect me to think? Do you think I'm just supposed to... what, be okay with this?"

Yunho swallowed hard. He had never seen Mingi like this, so hurt and angry . It made him feel like the floor was falling beneath him. "Mingi, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just... it's not about that kiss. It's—" Yunho paused, trying to gather his thoughts. His mind was racing, each word feeling like it might send Mingi even further away. He tried again, softer this time, "It's not just about the kiss. It's about everything. Everything I've been hiding."

Mingi's face flickered with confusion. "Then why does the kiss matter so much to you, Yunho?" He shook his head in disbelief, unable to understand what was going on in Yunho's mind. "What do you want from me?"

Yunho took a shaky breath, his own frustration beginning to boil over. This wasn't the way he had imagined it. "I want you to understand. To know that... I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't plan for any of it. But Mingi—" His voice faltered, the weight of his own emotions catching up to him. "But I've been in love with you for so long, I—"

"What?" Mingi blinked, stunned, taking a step back as though the words hit him like a physical blow. "What the hell are you talking about?" His voice wavered, unsure whether to be angry or hurt, but his eyes were wide, searching Yunho's face for any sign that he was joking.

Yunho stood there, his breath coming in quick bursts. His hands shook, but this time, he didn't hide them. He dropped his gaze to the floor, trying to steady himself, but it was useless. His chest felt like it was caving in. "I've loved you. All these years. And I've been hiding it— hiding me —from you. Because I didn't want to ruin what we had. I didn't want to make things... complicated."

"So kissing me doesn't make things complicated??" Mingi sarcastically asked

Yunho's heart hammered in his chest as Mingi's words struck him with a cold, sharp sting. The sarcasm in Mingi's voice felt like a slap, the weight of it making his chest tighten. He blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over, the raw emotion threatening to drown him.

Mingi's words kept replaying in his mind, making him feel smaller and smaller. So kissing me doesn't make things complicated? It was as if Mingi had opened a floodgate, and now every regret, every fear Yunho had been trying to suppress was crashing over him. He had ruined everything—everything that had been so perfect between them.

"Why are you more fixated on the kiss than me being the city's superhero?" Yunho tried to joke, his voice strained, almost breathless from the weight of everything he hadn't said before. It was his usual coping mechanism—joking when the world was falling apart around him—but it felt hollow now. Too empty. Too forced.

Mingi didn't laugh. Instead, his gaze hardened, and Yunho felt his stomach twist. "Yunho... fuck you being Spider-Man. That's a conversation for later." His voice shook slightly, his frustration turning into something deeper, more confused. "But my best friend of 13 years just fucking told me he likes me... How do I NOT fixate on that?"

The words hit Yunho like a wave, crashing over him with an overwhelming force. His heart slammed in his chest, louder than his thoughts, drowning him in a sea of confusion. Mingi's eyes were wide with disbelief, his face still etched with that mixture of shock and anger, but there was something else there now too—something more vulnerable. It was like a crack in the wall Mingi had built around himself, and Yunho could see it, feel it, even if Mingi wasn't saying it outright.

Yunho's breath hitched. "Mingi, I—" He wanted to explain, to make it make sense, but words failed him again. How could he explain something that felt so simple, yet so complicated all at once? How could he make Mingi see that all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed, was him? But now, with everything so raw, it felt like the worst possible time to open up.

"I didn't mean to just spring it on you like this," Yunho continued quietly, voice thick with regret. "Im sorry for kissing you without asking"

Mingi stood frozen for a moment, clearly at a loss, his chest rising and falling as he processed the weight of what Yunho had just confessed. There was a long silence, thick with uncertainty. Yunho felt exposed, like he had bared his soul to Mingi, only for Mingi to look at him like a puzzle he didn't know how to solve.

"I liked how your lips felt on mine" Mingi mumbled, not sure of his own self

Yunho's heart nearly stopped at Mingi's words. He felt like the ground had shifted beneath him, and for a moment, everything around him disappeared. The weight of Mingi's confession, soft and uncertain, hit him harder than anything else. I liked how your lips felt on mine —those words were a spark in the dark, a glimpse of something he hadn't dared to hope for. But there was still a hesitation in Mingi's voice, an uncertainty that Yunho could feel like a tangible weight between them.

"Mingi," Yunho breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His chest ached, torn between the joy of hearing that and the fear of what it meant. "Are you—are you saying...?"

Mingi's gaze flickered, his eyes avoiding Yunho's, as if he couldn't quite meet his gaze. "I don't know what to say," he mumbled, frustration and confusion clouding his features. "This is all just... too much. You're my best friend. I've known you for years, Yunho. I can't just... figure this out in a second."

"But the thought of you loving me, me loving you back... spending my whole life with you, not as just my best friend, but as someone more—someone I care about in a way I can't quite explain—feels exhilarating," Mingi continued, his words flowing with an honesty that made Yunho's heart skip a beat.

Yunho's eyes widened as the gravity of Mingi's confession sunk in. His pulse raced, a mixture of disbelief and relief rushing through him. He feels the same? The thought seemed impossible, but Mingi's words, though shaky, were undeniable.

"Mingi," Yunho whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "are you saying... that you—"

Mingi cut him off, running a hand through his hair, his gaze still averted as he processed everything. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to understand it. But... I can't deny that there's something there. Something I didn't want to admit to myself, i've always felt there was some tension between us, we were too intimate to just be best friends i doubted my own self with you sometimes, it's like i wanted you to be just with me, just mine"

Yunho's heart skipped a beat as Mingi's words sunk in, each syllable feeling like a slow, deliberate strike to his chest. His breath hitched, and he stepped closer, unable to tear his eyes away from Mingi's conflicted expression. This was it—the moment where everything changed, where the unspoken tension between them began to unravel in the rawest way possible.

"Mingi," Yunho murmured again, the words trembling in his throat, "you've always felt that way? You—"

"Yeah," Mingi interrupted, his voice a little firmer now, though still tinged with uncertainty. His hand dropped from his hair, and he met Yunho's gaze for the first time, his eyes conflicted but searching. "I've always felt like there was something between us, but I... I didn't know how to handle it. It was easier to just keep pretending everything was normal. That we were just best friends. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho. I can't pretend I don't feel... this ." He gestured between them, the air thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings.

Yunho's pulse raced, each beat pounding in his ears. He reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing the side of Mingi's arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his touch. It was as though his entire body was responding to the energy between them, something long dormant now waking up with an intensity that left him breathless.

"So... you mean you've wanted...?" Yunho's words faltered, the weight of the question too much to fully voice. His heart was beating faster now, faster than he thought possible. It was like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, his entire future stretched out before him.

Mingi nodded, his jaw clenched in a mixture of frustration and something else Yunho couldn't quite place. "Yeah, I've wanted you. I didn't want to admit it, but... every time I saw you with someone else, it felt like something inside of me snapped. Like I wanted you to be mine in a way that wasn't just as a friend. And I hated that. I didn't want to feel like that." His voice softened, vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his usually guarded demeanor. "I didn't want to complicate things. But I can't ignore it anymore, Yunho."

Yunho swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the words, the confession that felt like it had been a long time coming. He stepped closer, feeling the proximity between them charge the air with an intensity he could hardly breathe through.

"I never wanted to complicate things either, Mingi," Yunho said, his voice almost too quiet. His hand, still on Mingi's arm, gently tugged him closer. "But the truth is... I've wanted you too. For a long time. I just didn't know how to say it."

Mingi's lips parted in surprise, his eyes wide as he processed Yunho's words. For a moment, there was a kind of stillness between them, as if the world had stopped spinning, and it was just the two of them standing there in the middle of it all. The weight of everything—years of hidden feelings, uncertainty, longing—hung between them like a fragile thread.

And then, before Yunho could second-guess himself, Mingi closed the gap between them. His lips met Yunho's in a kiss that was everything they had both been holding back—sweet, messy, uncertain, but undeniably real. It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't soft either. It was a kiss filled with all the things they had been afraid to say, and now, in this moment, there was no more room for fear.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Yunho couldn't help but laugh softly, the tension in his chest easing for the first time. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's been feeling this," he said, his voice shaky but full of relief.

Mingi smiled, his eyes still searching Yunho's face as if to confirm that this wasn't a dream. "Yeah," he whispered, his tone low and hesitant but filled with something Yunho had never heard from him before. "Yeah, me too."

"But im scared Yuyu, very scared, it's like this moment feels like water slipping between my fingers, it's like we wont last long and then ill lose the very person i loved so much, you're my best friend, i have no one other than you"

Yunho's heart clenched at Mingi's words, the vulnerability in his voice pulling him in deeper than anything else had before. He could feel the weight of Mingi's fears pressing down on him, and it was as though Mingi's confession was a mirror of his own. He had always feared this moment too—the fear that whatever they had between them would slip away, just like water between fingers, and leave them broken. But hearing it from Mingi, the person who meant the most to him, made the fear seem so much more real.

Yunho cupped Mingi's face gently, his thumb brushing along his cheek in a soft, steady rhythm. "Mingi," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm scared too. I'm terrified, actually. I'm scared that what we have will be too much for us, that we won't be able to make it. But I'm not going to run away from this. Not from you."

Mingi's eyes searched his, full of doubt and confusion, but also longing, as if he wanted to believe him but wasn't sure how.

Yunho took a deep breath, his forehead resting gently against Mingi's. "We've been through so much together, right? We've known each other for so long. And if anyone can handle this, it's us. I know we're scared. But I'm willing to face that fear with you, Mingi. Because I can't lose you either. Not as my best friend, not as anything."

Mingi blinked, a tear slipping down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away. He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning back to Yunho with a soft, shaky smile. "It's just... I've never had anyone else like you, Yunho. I've never trusted anyone like I trust you. And if we try this... if we make this change... I don't know if I can handle losing that trust. Losing you."

Yunho leaned in, pressing his lips to Mingi's forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. "You won't lose me, Mingi. I'm not going anywhere. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this—whatever happens, we'll face it together. We'll be together. You're not alone in this, okay? I'm here."

Mingi closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he rested his head against Yunho's chest. "I want to believe that. I do."

Yunho hugged him tighter, his arms wrapping around him as if to hold onto this moment—this fragile, beautiful thing that they had just stepped into. He knew things wouldn't be easy. They never were. But as long as they had each other, there was hope. They had always been best friends, but now they were something more. And no matter how much fear there was, no matter how much uncertainty lay ahead, Yunho was willing to face it, as long as Mingi was by his side.

"I'm not going anywhere," Yunho whispered again, his voice steady now. "I promise."

Mingi rested his head on Yunho's shoulder

"So Spiderman do you cum spiderweb"

Yunho felt a sudden rush of warmth flood his face, his cheeks burning as Mingi's words hit him with an unexpected burst of humor. It was like the tension in the air shifted in that instant, his heart slowing, his breath catching in laughter despite the raw emotions still swirling between them.

"Seriously, Mingi?" Yunho groaned, his face buried in his hands for a moment before he shot Mingi a half-annoyed, half-amused glare. "You had to bring that up right now?"

Mingi was grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was something else there too—something soft and vulnerable that Yunho hadn't seen in a while. It was as if the joke was his way of easing into this new, unfamiliar space they were in together, and Yunho couldn't help but smile at that.

"I couldn't resist," Mingi said with a laugh, leaning back just enough to meet Yunho's gaze. "Come on, man, you've been hiding this whole Spider-Man thing from me for weeks, and now we're here i need answers"

Yunho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to mask the nervous energy bubbling inside him.

"I didn't have time to check," he said, the words coming out too casually.

Mingi's expression faltered for a second, his brow furrowing as he processed Yunho's response. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he shook his head with a sigh, clearly amused but also a little frustrated. "You really do have a thing for awkward jokes, don't you?"

Yunho shifted slightly, his fingers tapping on the side of his jeans, avoiding Mingi's gaze as the words tumbled out. "So... uh, I mean, if, you know, you're not too weirded out by all this... and if you don't mind, maybe... I could be your boyfriend?"

Yunho winced internally at his choice of words. It wasn't exactly the grand confession he had imagined in his head. In fact, it was embarrassingly awkward, and for a moment, he wished he could disappear into the floor.

Mingi blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait, what?" He leaned forward, brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you... seriously asking me that?"

Yunho's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his eyes darting everywhere but Mingi's face. "Yeah... I mean, I've been kind of a mess for, like, years now," he said, his voice low but genuine. "But I think... maybe we could try this? As more than friends, I mean. I really like you, Mingi. Like, a lot. So, yeah, maybe we can... give it a shot?"

Mingi stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Yunho could feel every second stretch out in the air, each passing moment building his embarrassment like a balloon ready to pop.

Finally, Mingi let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a loser, you know that?" He reached out, giving Yunho's shoulder a gentle shove, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, it was playful, affectionate.

Yunho groaned, covering his face with his hands again. "I knew it was bad. I'm sorry. Forget I—"

Mingi cut him off by grabbing his hands, pulling them away from his face so Yunho was forced to look at him. "No, idiot," Mingi said, his tone gentle but teasing. "You're not a loser. You're just... bad at this."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, the tension in his chest loosening. "So... that means?"

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "It means," he began, his lips curling into a smile, "I think I can handle being your boyfriend. Even if you're a total dork about it."

Yunho's face lit up with a grin, relief flooding through him. He felt like he could finally breathe again. "So... does this mean you'll accept my loser-ass?" he asked, trying to keep it light, but his heart was racing now, hope filling every inch of him.

Mingi shrugged playfully, his grin widening. "I guess. But you've got a lot of making up to do. You owe me, Spidey."

Yunho chuckled, the weight of everything finally starting to lift. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make it up to you. Just... don't ever let me do that again. That was... definitely loser core level awkward."

Mingi laughed, pulling Yunho into a half-hug. "As long as you keep being you, I think I can handle it. Plus, you're cute when you're all flustered."

Yunho smiled, his heart swelling with something he couldn't quite put into words. Maybe he was a bit of a mess. But for the first time, he felt like it might just be okay.

"I can't believe my superhero crush is my boyfriend now," Mingi said with a grin, the words teasing but warm as he settled back into the couch. Yunho laughed, a mix of joy and nerves bubbling up, but before he could respond, the door suddenly slammed open with a deafening force. The sound made both of them jump, and Yunho's stomach dropped.

"Mingi, wait—" Yunho called out instinctively, but Mingi was already moving toward the door, confusion etched on his face.

Mingi swung it open, the soft click of the door handle echoing like a countdown. But what stood in the doorway wasn't a random visitor—it was Yunho's worst nightmare.

Standing in the threshold was none other than Yunho's father. His tall frame filled the doorway, his presence suffocating, carrying the weight of a man whose ambition was matched only by his ruthlessness. Dr. Jeong's eyes, cold and piercing, scanned Yunho with a clinical detachment, like a scientist examining his favorite specimen.

"Yunho," his father's voice rang out, smooth, calm, and chillingly devoid of emotion. It was a voice Yunho had feared all his life. "It seems we have a problem."

Yunho's heart raced, panic flooding through him. His bloodstained clothes, his Spider-Man mask—he could feel his secret unraveling in front of Mingi. His father's gaze dropped immediately to the mask, then to the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt, his eyes narrowing.

"No. No, no, no..." Yunho whispered to himself, horrified. His secret, the thing he'd fought so hard to protect, was slipping away. His mind raced with a singular thought: He can't know. He can't find out.

Mingi, still standing frozen in the doorway, looked between the two men, confused and a little scared. His gaze flickered between Yunho and his father, sensing the tension but not understanding the full picture.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Yunho's voice cracked as he tried to stay calm, to control the rush of fear that threatened to engulf him.

Dr. Jeong didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stepped inside with the deliberate slowness of someone who was in control, completely aware of the power he held in this moment. His eyes never left Yunho, not even once.

"You think you can hide from me forever?" Dr. Jeong's voice was laced with venom. He took another step forward, and Yunho instinctively took a step back, the weight of his father's gaze pushing down on him. "You think I wouldn't find out?"

Yunho's chest tightened. His father had always been a scientist—a brilliant one—but the kind of scientist who was willing to cross lines most would never dream of. The kind who didn't see boundaries, only possibilities. His experiments, the things he'd done in the name of science, were nothing short of horrifying. And now, Yunho realized with sickening clarity, the truth was out.

"You... you don't know what you're talking about," Yunho managed to choke out. But the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He could feel the panic beginning to take over as his mind raced through all the ways this could go wrong.

Dr. Jeong's lip curled into a sneer. "You think I don't know what's going on, Yunho? Do you really believe you can pull the wool over my eyes? You're my experiment. Do you really think I wouldn't notice the changes?"

Yunho took another step back, his hands trembling as he struggled to hide his Spider-Man mask behind his back. But it was too late.

His father's eyes flared with recognition as he stepped closer, grabbing Yunho by the arm with terrifying force. The grip was unrelenting, like iron, and Yunho couldn't help but wince in pain.

"Stop it!" Yunho tried to jerk away, but his father's hold was too strong, too unyielding. "Let go of me!"

" No. " Dr. Jeong's voice was sharp and commanding, and before Yunho could even comprehend what was happening, his father was pulling him toward the door.

Mingi's voice cracked through the haze of panic. "What the hell is going on, Yunho? What's he doing?"

Yunho's breath caught in his throat. "Mingi... go!" he managed to shout, his heart breaking at the thought of putting Mingi in danger. His mind raced, the thought of his father turning Yunho's powers into his next experiment terrifying beyond measure. There was no telling what his father would do if he figured out Yunho's secret. The thought of becoming nothing more than a specimen in his father's lab—a tool for research—was enough to make Yunho's blood run cold.

"Yunho, what the hell is this?" Mingi called out again, his voice stricken with worry as he reached toward Yunho, but Dr. Jeong pulled him further away, not even sparing Mingi a glance.

"We're going to have a little talk ," Dr. Jeong said, his grip tightening on Yunho's arm as he pulled him toward the door, dragging him like an object to his laboratory. The walls seemed to close in on Yunho as he tried to fight back, to escape, but his father was too strong, and there was nowhere to run.

"Mingi—!" Yunho shouted one last time, but his voice faltered as his father forcibly yanked him out the door and into the cold, clinical world that he'd always feared—the world where he was never truly his own.

His father's lab.

The place where Yunho's humanity could be lost forever.

Yunho's legs were shaky as his father dragged him into the lab, his mind racing to keep up with the horror of it all. The sterile smell of chemicals and metal stung his nose, the sharp, unnerving hum of machines filled the air, and his heart pounded in his chest as if it was trying to escape. The walls were lined with shelves full of glass containers, each one holding something alive, something twisted. It was a place of madness, of experiments, where things no one should even imagine were brought to life and torn apart in the name of "discovery."

Yunho could barely keep his feet underneath him as his father pushed him into the center of the room, a cold, clinical space where even the smallest mistake could cost him everything.

He had to get out. But his body wouldn't cooperate.

His father was quiet for a long moment, standing in front of him with that calculating, detached look in his eyes—the look of a man who saw his son not as a person, but as another piece of his work, another puzzle to solve.

Yunho's pulse hammered in his ears as the questions flooded his mind. The answers were so horrifying, so impossible to process. He had to know. He needed to know.

"What did you mean by... you knew all about this and I'm just a part of your experiment?" Yunho asked, his voice trembling, but his eyes blazing with something fierce. It was the only defense he had left—the only thing he could still control. His body, his breath, his fears... all of that was slipping away, but his voice, his resolve, that he would hold onto for as long as he could.

His father stared at him for a long moment. The look in his eyes was something darker now—something that Yunho couldn't quite place. It was almost as if he were studying Yunho, as if Yunho were just another subject to be analyzed.

"I knew you'd walk into that door the moment you saw it," Dr. Jeong said, his voice steady, controlled, like he was explaining the weather. "I knew that spider would squirt on you the moment it saw you. This was all planned, son."

Yunho's world seemed to tilt on its axis. His father had planned it all? The spiders, the toxic serum, the strange experiments... Yunho's mind reeled as he tried to make sense of it, tried to connect the dots.

"You..." Yunho stammered, his chest tightening with disbelief. His voice cracked, fighting against the rising tide of anger and panic threatening to overwhelm him. "You... you planned this?" His words felt alien, like they didn't belong in his mouth. But his father just nodded, an unsettling calmness in his expression, like the devastation in Yunho's voice didn't even faze him.

"I knew you'd be perfect for it," his father continued, his eyes gleaming with a sickening kind of pride. "I knew you were strong enough to survive. You always were. My son, my greatest achievement." The words sent a chill down Yunho's spine. He knew his father wasn't just talking about the experiments now. He was talking about him . His son, the test subject.

"But—why?" Yunho managed to choke out, his throat tightening with frustration. He couldn't understand, couldn't grasp why his father would do this, why he would sacrifice his own child to further his twisted ambitions. "Why would you do this to me? You... you turned me into this thing!"

Dr. Jeong tilted his head, as if considering the question, like it was some minor puzzle to solve. "Because you were the perfect candidate, Yunho. You were always meant to be part of this. All those years, all that time... it was leading to this. You see, I wanted to push the boundaries, to create something new . Something that could transcend the limitations of the human body, of genetics. And you, my dear son, you were my key. You still are."

Yunho's breath caught in his throat as his father's words settled like ice in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking. He was his father's key to some twisted, horrific dream—a dream that had cost Yunho everything. His father didn't see him as a person. To him, Yunho was just an experiment. A success waiting to happen.

Yunho took a step back, his mind reeling, desperately trying to make sense of the madness surrounding him. "I'm not some... some thing for you to experiment on," Yunho spat, his voice gaining strength despite the fear that threatened to consume him. "I'm not your property. I'm me ."

His father smiled. It wasn't a warm smile. It was cold, like a predator's. "You can believe whatever you like, Yunho. But the fact remains: you're exactly what I created. And now that I know what you've become... we're going to finish what I started.A man of science, a protector of this filthy city"

Before Yunho could react, his father gestured toward the lab equipment, and Yunho's heart sank as he realized what his father was implying. Finish what he started —it was a terrifying promise, one that sounded like it would involve dissecting Yunho, tearing apart his powers, studying him until there was nothing left.

"No," Yunho whispered, the word slipping out in horror. His hands were shaking harder now. "I won't let you do this. I won't let you turn me into—"

"Into what?" Dr. Jeong cut him off, his voice no longer calm but sharp with excitement, with obsession. "A success? Or perhaps the next step in human evolution? Imagine the possibilities, Yunho. The power you possess... You could change everything." He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with an almost sickly eagerness. "You're special. I made you special."

Yunho's mind was a storm. His father had created him—had orchestrated everything. The spiders, the serum, his powers... it was all part of his father's twisted plan. Yunho felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. He was nothing but a tool in his father's eyes.

And worse, his father was determined to take him further down this path of destruction.

"You'll never control me," Yunho said through gritted teeth, every word defiant.

But his father didn't respond. He only reached for the nearest syringe filled with an iridescent liquid—something familiar, something terrifying.

Yunho's world seemed to narrow to that one vial as his father's grip tightened around it. The sharp click of the needle sliding into place echoed in the cold lab air.

Yunho's pulse quickened. He had to stop him. He had to get away.

"Father... why are you doing this... to me?" Yunho's voice trembled, but he fought to keep his tone steady, trying to mask the desperation clawing at him. His throat was tight, the words catching on the way out, like they weren't even his own.

His father's expression softened for a brief moment, an eerie smile curling on his lips as he took a step closer. It was that look—the one Yunho had seen a thousand times before when his father spoke of his "greatness," of the legacy he was meant to carry. But now, it was different. There was something darker, something more obsessive in his eyes.

"Because of your humanity, Yunho," his father said, his voice disturbingly calm. "I knew if you got the power, you'd use it for good. This power of yours... it's not just a gift. It's a weapon. A weapon to save the world." He stepped closer still, his tone gaining an almost reverent quality as he spoke, as if Yunho's very existence was a validation of his life's work. "The world needs someone like you. You can make a difference. Those police? They don't do shit. They can't save anyone. But you can. I knew it, Yunho. If they had done their job, if they had been paying attention... we wouldn't have lost your sister."

The mention of his sister made Yunho's blood run cold. His stomach twisted into a knot as memories he had buried deep resurfaced. Her laughter, the way she used to pull at his sleeves and beg him to play with her, the way she had disappeared without a trace, and the aftermath—the endless searches, the dead-end investigations, the unanswered questions.

But hearing his father's words—his justification —made Yunho's heart drop. His father was telling him that his power —the very thing that had been forced upon him—was meant to be a means to fix the world, to right some imagined wrong. It made Yunho sick. His father had groomed him, shaped him to be a hero, not for Yunho's own sake, but because his father was too consumed by his own delusions of grandeur to see the truth.

He had always been the "good son," the one who tried to make his father proud, who followed the rules and the expectations. But now, Yunho felt like his father was taking that very humanity he had once praised and twisting it into something else—something monstrous.

"I'm not some... hero ," Yunho spat, his voice shaking with disgust as the words finally broke free. His chest heaved with emotion, the weight of his father's twisted words suffocating him. "I'm not some experiment you can use to fix your mistakes. I never asked for this power. I never asked to be... this." His hand instinctively pressed against the webbing on his palm, the skin burning as the memories of the transformation flashed in his mind. His father's obsession had turned him into a weapon— nothing more .

The sickening truth finally hit Yunho like a punch to the gut: his father didn't see him as a son. He didn't see him as a person. To his father, Yunho was just another step toward his own so-called "progress," another pawn in a game Yunho had never agreed to play. And that made his stomach churn with a mixture of fear and anger that he hadn't felt before.

"You think the power will save the world?" Yunho asked bitterly, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You think I'm some kind of tool to fix things? We lost her because you were too busy playing God with your experiments! And now you're telling me that this —this curse—is the answer?"

His father's gaze darkened, but the glint of pride still lingered in his eyes. "If the police had done their job, you're right—she would still be here. But I could have prevented it all, Yunho. I could have. And now you can too. You're better than they are. You're better than I ever was."

Yunho couldn't breathe. The weight of his father's words was unbearable. His father had always made him believe that his heroism was something to aspire to, that it was his destiny to be the "savior" the world needed. But now, he saw the truth—his father was merely using him as a pawn, a means to an end. The idea that his power was some kind of divine intervention, a way to atone for past mistakes, made him feel like nothing more than an object—a science project that had worked .

Yunho's body slammed against the cold, unforgiving glass of the cage with a sickening thud, his limbs feeling like they were weighed down by invisible chains. He didn't fight back. He should've fought back. He could've fought back—he was Spider-Man, for God's sake. His father was no match for him. He could've thrown him across the room with the flick of his wrist. But in that moment, his body refused to respond. It was as though something inside him had broken, frozen in place by the sheer terror and betrayal that coursed through his veins.

His heartbeat slowed, the rhythmic thump of blood in his ears growing more and more distant, as though he were detached from his own body. Every instinct that told him to run, to fight, to scream—it was all muted, like some unseen force had locked him inside his own skin.

Yunho's breath caught in his throat, the panic bubbling up in the pit of his stomach, but it felt so far away, so unreachable. His body trembled, but it wasn't the kind of trembling that came from fear. No, it was something worse—something deeper. It was the weight of everything he had just learned. The weight of realizing that his father, the man who had raised him, who he had once trusted, saw him not as a son—but as a tool. A project .

He watched helplessly as his father moved toward him with that eerie calm, his hand holding a vial of iridescent liquid, its glow casting sickly reflections across the cold metal lab. The liquid shimmered like some kind of poison, its beauty hiding the horror it contained. It was meant for him. It was meant to change him even more than he already had, to push him further into whatever sick experiment his father had planned for him.

"You were always going to be part of this, Yunho," his father said, his voice thick with something that almost sounded like pride. "The moment you stepped into this lab, I knew you would be the key. You were never meant to be just my son. You were meant to be a vessel— the vessel —for the future."

The words felt like daggers, each one sinking deeper into Yunho's chest. His mind screamed for him to move, to break free, to do something—anything. But his body betrayed him, and his mind felt like it was sinking into a fog. His father wasn't just speaking to him; he was speaking to the experiment . To the thing he had turned Yunho into.

"You're going to be better than anything I've ever made," his father continued, moving closer with the vial in his hand. "This serum... it'll enhance everything. Your strength, your agility—everything will be perfected. You'll be more than just Spider-Man. You'll be unstoppable ."

The vial shimmered as it neared Yunho's face, and he could feel the familiar sting of fear crawling up his spine, but it was as if the emotion was distant now, like it didn't even belong to him. He could still feel the spider-like powers thrumming in his veins, but it felt disconnected, almost numb. It was as though his body was no longer his own.

"Stop," Yunho's voice broke through the fog, weak and strained, but it was there. "Please..."

His father didn't even pause. "You'll thank me for this," he said, his tone flat and mechanical, as though Yunho were nothing more than a subject in his lab, not a person with thoughts, with feelings .

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest, a desperate, panicked rhythm that made his skin burn with cold sweat. His father was moving closer now, the syringe raised, the needle poised to break the skin. He couldn't breathe. The air felt too thick.

Move, move, MOVE!

The thoughts came in a rush, but Yunho's limbs still felt like they were made of stone. You're Spider-Man. You can escape this. You have to fight back.

But then, with a sickening click, the needle pierced his skin, and the cold liquid poured into his veins.

It burned. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, shooting through his bloodstream in a way that made him want to scream, but no sound escaped his lips. His body seemed to tense up involuntarily, the venomous liquid taking hold, coursing through him like fire freezing over his very soul. His mind reeled from the sensation, and for a moment, he thought he was going to black out.

The world around him blurred. His father's voice faded into the background, a distorted echo of a man he no longer recognized.

Yunho screamed louder than he ever had the sheer intensity of the scream shaking his entire body, he felt a black liquid rise up on his body engulfing him like a human inside the black gel of a monster

Yunho's scream tore through the air, a raw, guttural sound that vibrated his very bones. The world spun as pain exploded through his veins, each pulse of agony almost too much to bear. His entire body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, the burning, searing pain now accompanied by something else—something dark, something alive .

He felt it first as a pressure in his chest, an unsettling weight, like a force pulling him into itself. Then, it spread through his limbs, suffocating his senses, crawling under his skin like tendrils, twisting and writhing. It was something primal, something other , something that didn't belong inside him. It felt like a living thing—like a monster was growing inside his very body.

" No... " Yunho gasped, his voice cracking with fear. He tried to claw at his skin, to tear it off, to rip out whatever this was that had latched onto him. But his hands were shaking, his vision blurred with the overwhelming pain and fear.

The black liquid began to seep out from beneath his skin, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, spreading across his body in a terrifying, viscous tide. It pooled in his hands, dripped down his legs, and crawled up his neck, spreading like a suffocating shadow. It was cold. Too cold. It felt like it was eating him alive, filling him up from the inside out, drowning him in its dark embrace.

Yunho couldn't breathe. The pressure in his chest grew heavier, suffocating him, pushing against his lungs. His heart hammered in his chest, erratic and desperate as if fighting against the impossible force.

What is this? His mind screamed, but the answer was too horrifying to accept.

He could feel it— the symbiote . It's alive. It moved inside him like a predator, a beast, its presence both suffocating and alien. His entire body felt like it was no longer his own. He wasn't just Yunho anymore; he was something else. Something... monstrous.

His mind struggled to hold on to himself, to fight against the alien consciousness that seemed to pulse within the symbiote. It was coiled inside him, and it was speaking to him, though not with words. It was more like a presence, a feeling , a silent, all-encompassing thought, telling him that it had always been waiting for this moment.

But his father's voice cut through the suffocating fog of his mind, distorted, cold, and calculating, like the twisted reflection of someone he once knew.

"You're mine now, Yunho," his father said, his voice low and almost gleeful. "This power you have, it's just the beginning. Together, you and the symbiote will change the world. You'll fix everything."

Yunho's head snapped up, his vision finally clearing, but what he saw wasn't what he expected. His reflection in the glass cage was warped, distorted—no longer just Yunho. The black liquid that clung to his body wasn't just dark; it was alive . It pulsed with an unnatural, sickening energy, shifting and writhing like it was about to break free from his skin. He could feel it moving beneath his flesh, spreading its influence over him. The symbiote had taken hold.

But it wasn't just taking over his body—it was reaching into his mind, coiling around his thoughts, feeding on his fear, his anger, his confusion. And for a terrifying moment, Yunho could feel his identity slipping away, being replaced by the thing that had invaded him.

"No..." Yunho whispered, trying to pull himself together, to fight it off. But the symbiote was too strong. It was as if the darkness inside him had grown arms and legs, claws digging into his consciousness, suffocating every last shred of himself. His emotions were becoming distorted—his rage, his fear, his despair —all being twisted by the symbiote's influence.

And then, it spoke to him— its voice .

You don't need to fight. You don't need to feel weak anymore. With me, you are unstoppable.

Yunho's breath came in ragged gasps as his vision began to cloud with black spots. His hands clenched into fists, the black substance flowing like liquid fire over his skin, but it wasn't painful anymore. It was... powerful .

You'll be the hero you were always meant to be. A hero who can never be stopped.

Terror gripped Yunho's chest, and for a moment, he wanted to scream—to claw at the walls of the cage, to do anything to break free. But then, something inside him flickered—a memory. A promise.

I won't let you control me.

His father stood there, oblivious to the battle raging inside his own son, too lost in his own delusions of grandeur to realize what was happening.

Yunho's chest heaved as the black liquid began to solidify around him, forming a sleek, dark armor that covered his body, its tendrils stretching and shifting with an unsettling life of their own. His breath came in slow, controlled bursts now, despite the whirlwind of thoughts crashing inside his mind. He wasn't fully in control yet, but he wasn't fully lost either.

And in that moment, Yunho knew one thing for sure— he had to escape . He had to stop his father, stop this twisted experiment before it consumed him completely. But more than that—he had to figure out who he was now .

Because he wasn't just Yunho anymore.

And neither was the world.

Everything around Yunho faded into darkness as the black symbiote that had taken over his body seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving him disoriented. His body felt as if it were melting into the floor, the overwhelming heat pulsing through him like a living furnace. He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling erratically as sweat drenched his skin. His head spun with the remnants of the transformation, the agony of it still fresh, lingering beneath his skin.

Then, everything went still.

Yunho woke with a start, gasping for air, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat. The heat was unbearable, suffocating, as if his very skin was on fire. He shot up from the bed, his limbs trembling uncontrollably as he looked around, disoriented. The room was dim, the light harsh against his already-sensitive eyes. Everything felt wrong , like he was no longer in his own body, like his mind had splintered into pieces that refused to fit together.

His breathing was ragged, desperate, as he stumbled out of the bed and onto the cold, tiled floor, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands—his once familiar hands—shook violently, the black tendrils of the symbiote still crawling beneath his skin, reminding him of its presence.

Then, he heard a voice.

"Good morning, son."

Yunho's eyes snapped up to find his father standing at the door, his presence as imposing as ever, but Yunho could only see the monster he truly was now. His father held a glass of water, the offer seeming almost pathetic in comparison to the storm inside Yunho's chest. His eyes flicked to his father's hand, the delicate glass shimmering in the morning light, and something inside Yunho snapped.

"Shut up," he growled, his voice coming out raw and hollow. Before his father could react, Yunho slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it on the floor. The sound was deafening, echoing through the house, but Yunho barely noticed. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, from trembling like leaves in the wind. His body felt like it was waging war against itself.

His father didn't even flinch at the outburst. He merely tilted his head slightly, watching Yunho with a calculating, almost pleased expression, as if he expected this reaction. He didn't speak, didn't move. His cold eyes studied Yunho like a specimen, like something he was in control of.

From the kitchen, his mother flinched, her face paling as she peeked into the room. She hadn't seen her son like this— not like this . The way he looked now was... terrifying. His eyes were completely different, dilated to an unnatural size, the once familiar warm brown now replaced by a dark, inky blackness, swirling with something that didn't belong in him. They were hollow, empty, almost dead .

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her son—her sweet boy —had always been different, but now, there was something about him that wasn't human. He looked like a shadow of himself, like he was hanging on to some fragile thread of sanity, teetering on the edge of losing it completely.

His hair, once soft and dark, now seemed straighter, almost slick with some unnatural sheen, darker than before. It hung in a messy curtain around his face, framing the distorted expression on his features. His lips were twisted into something close to a sneer, but it was more than just anger—it was insanity . His face was gaunt, marked with deep, bruising dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days, if not weeks.

Yunho's breath hitched as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror across the room. His face—his own face —was barely recognizable, as if the boy he used to be had been replaced with something new, something monstrous.

His mother stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide in fear. "Yunho..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "What happened to you?"

"Ask your asshole of a husband" he spat angrily and walked away ready to get ready for school

The door slammed behind him as he left the house, the weight of his mother's worried eyes still burning in the back of his mind. He couldn't deal with her right now, not when his head felt like it was ready to explode.

School was a blur—another place where the pieces of his former life barely seemed to fit. As he walked through the school gates, his body moving on autopilot, his heart felt cold, detached. Every step felt heavy, as if the symbiote inside him was dragging him forward, pulling the strings, forcing him to keep moving when all he wanted to do was collapse.

And then, in the distance, he saw him.

Mingi. The one person who used to make his heart flutter with every smile, every glance. His boyfriend. The love of his life.

But now, as Yunho looked at Mingi, his heart didn't race. There was no warmth, no excitement. Just a cold void that seemed to swallow him whole. It was as if something in him had changed, something deep and irreversible. The symbiote had stripped him of more than just his humanity; it had taken away the very essence of who he was.

"Yuyu, are you okay? You don't look fine," Mingi's voice cut through the fog in Yunho's mind. His concern was so genuine, it made Yunho's chest ache, but there was no answer in him. He couldn't even force a smile.

Mingi's eyes searched Yunho's face, his brows furrowing as he reached out to touch his arm.

Yunho's mind was elsewhere—somewhere dark and twisted, where voices from the depths of his psyche whispered, beckoning him into madness.

So that's your boyfriend, huh? Pretty cute, if you ask me. It would be fun to ruin him.

The voice in his head was mocking, cruel, just like the symbiote itself. Yunho clenched his fists, his body trembling with the effort to keep control, to keep the rage from spilling over. He couldn't let it happen, not here, not now.

"Shut up," Yunho grumbled through gritted teeth, but the words barely made it past his lips before the symbiote's voice raked through his mind once again, its words dripping with malice.

Cringe. You loser.

Yunho's eyes snapped wide, his hand reaching up to grip his forehead as if he could force the voice out. The last thing he wanted was for Mingi to see him like this, to see him losing himself to something that wasn't even truly him.

Mingi, of course, misinterpreted the sudden outburst. His face fell, his bright expression clouding with hurt as he took a step back. "Yunho... What's wrong?"

Yunho's heart twisted at the sight. He wasn't like this. He hadn't wanted this. Not for Mingi. Not for himself.

"Nono, baby, that wasn't for you." Yunho's voice was softer now, though the harshness in his words still clung to the air. He reached out instinctively, desperate to reassure Mingi, but his hands felt heavy, unsure. The symbiote wasn't letting go.

Mingi didn't look convinced, still watching him with concern. But before Yunho could explain himself, the voice in his head lashed out again, taunting him relentlessly.

Baby? Pathetic. You really think this is love? You think he cares?

"Get out of my head," Yunho hissed, his voice full of quiet fury as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the tormenting whispers. He could feel his grip on reality slipping, the lines between who he was and what the symbiote had turned him into blurring more with every passing moment.

Mingi's eyes searched his, confusion, and worry deepening. "Yunho... I—what's going on? You're scaring me. What's happening?"

Yunho didn't know how to answer. The truth was too dangerous, too dark. He wasn't the person Mingi had fallen in love with, and he didn't know how to protect him from the monster that was growing inside of him.

The symbiote laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed through his thoughts like a thunderstorm in his mind.

He's scared. Good. Let him be scared. Everyone will fear you, Yunho. It's only a matter of time.

Yunho took a step back, his face twisting in pain as he tried to force the symbiote into silence. "I—I need to go," he muttered, his voice rough. "I need space. Please, just... give me a minute."

Mingi didn't argue, though the hurt in his eyes was evident. He nodded slowly, stepping back with a hesitant, unsure smile. "I'll be here, okay? Whenever you're ready."

Yunho's breath came in ragged, panicked gasps as he slammed the washroom door shut behind him. His hands were shaking, trembling with the desperate need to do something, anything, to make it stop. The voice inside his head, that constant, nagging presence—the symbiote—had taken root deep within him, infecting his mind as much as it had his body.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

With an agonizing scream, Yunho collided his forehead against the mirror, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through his skull. The glass cracked instantly under the force of his head, spiderwebbing out in jagged lines, tiny shards of it splintering off and flying across the room. Yunho barely felt the cuts as they scraped across his face, his skin quickly reddening with blood, but the sting of the pain was a small, fleeting distraction from the suffocating agony in his chest.

"Get out of my head!" he growled through gritted teeth, his voice low and strained, as if trying to force the symbiote to listen, to obey . He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white with the pressure, as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat thunderous and erratic.

The symbiote laughed, a mocking, guttural sound that reverberated through his mind.

You're weak, Yunho. Pathetic. You'll never get rid of me. You're mine now. Forever.

Yunho's vision blurred as his heart raced, his body shaking with the intensity of the words in his head. The symbiote was taking over. Little by little, piece by piece. It wasn't just his body anymore—it was his mind, his thoughts, his very soul that was being corrupted.

He pressed his palm against the glass, the cool surface a faint relief against the heat radiating from his skin. His face, his hands—they felt different now. Foreign. The reflection staring back at him was not the boy he had once known. Not the one who used to smile freely at Mingi, whose heart would race for the simple touch of his boyfriend's hand.

Now, there was nothing but this cold emptiness. And the voice that wouldn't let him go.

You belong to me, Yunho. You were always meant for this. You've always been mine.

With a strangled cry, Yunho pulled away from the mirror, his fingers digging into the sink, leaving deep gouges in the porcelain. He couldn't stay in this bathroom forever. He had to leave. He had to go back to Mingi.

But could he face him like this?

Would Mingi even recognize him now, or had he already lost everything?

The symbiote's laughter echoed again, this time joined by a dark, unsettling voice that whispered deep in Yunho's mind.

He'll never understand you. He'll never be able to save you, Yunho. You're beyond saving.

Yunho stumbled back, his chest tight as if the weight of the world was crashing down on him. He turned toward the door, but the image of Mingi's worried face—hurt and confused—flashed before his eyes. His boyfriend, his love ... He couldn't bring himself to hurt him.

But if the symbiote was right, it was only a matter of time before he did.

Yunho's hands shook violently as he reached for the door handle. Get out of my head, get out of my head, he repeated under his breath like a mantra, as though saying it over and over would somehow make it true.

His heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn't stop the cold sweat that began to bead along his forehead. Please, don't hurt Mingi, he begged silently, his voice breaking. Mingi, the one person who still saw him as Yunho— the real Yunho —and not the monster he was becoming. The thought of the symbiote harming him made Yunho's stomach twist in agony. Anyone but him, he thought desperately, his mind swirling with fear and guilt.

The symbiote's voice slithered back into his consciousness, smooth and mocking, as if it were toying with him. Fine, it answered, its tone indifferent, almost amused by Yunho's pleading. For a moment, there was nothing but the oppressive silence that followed, and Yunho released a shaky breath, his hand still holding the door handle. It was as if the air had thickened with the promise of something darker—something unavoidable—but for now, the symbiote honored his plea.

Yunho closed his eyes, feeling the weight in his chest lift, but only slightly. Thank you, he whispered back, though the gratitude felt hollow. Thank you...

He almost couldn't believe the relief. The symbiote was in control, that much was clear, but somehow it had honored his request—not to harm Mingi. He couldn't bring himself to understand the creature's twisted morality, but he was grateful, for a moment, that it was at least keeping his love safe.

What's so special about him anyway? The symbiote's voice echoed inside his mind again, its tone probing, curious, almost condescending. It was the same question Yunho had been avoiding, the question that gnawed at him every time he looked at Mingi.

But Yunho knew better than to let the creature dictate his feelings.

He's Mingi, Yunho replied silently, but the words were firm, steady—a truth he wasn't about to let be twisted by the symbiote. He's my best friend. He's been with me as far back as I can remember—through everything, all of it. He's never judged me, not once. Even when I made the worst decisions, the ones that could've broken me, he was there. Not to praise me, not to tell me I was right, but to make sure I didn't lose myself in it. He's kept me grounded when the world felt like it was falling apart.

Yunho's mind flashed to all the moments with Mingi—the late-night conversations, the way Mingi would always sit close when Yunho felt too alone, the quiet but constant reassurance in his eyes. He's my left side, Yunho thought, pressing the heel of his palm against his chest, as if to feel the heartbeat that Mingi had kept alive in him. He's the closest to my heart.

There was no doubt, no hesitation in Yunho's mind now. Mingi was everything the symbiote could never understand. He isn't afraid of me, Yunho's voice echoed in his head, a whisper of defiance. Not of the monster I've become. Not of the anger I can't control. He's the one person who sees me—really sees me—and he doesn't run. Not when I needed him most, not even now.

The weight in his chest, the gnawing loneliness that had once threatened to consume him, lifted a little with each thought. Mingi had never abandoned him, never let him face his demons alone. Even when Yunho had been at his lowest, when he felt like the world had turned its back on him, Mingi was always there—like a shadow, a steady presence in his life that kept him from completely falling apart.

He's my lover, Yunho thought, and with that, it all clicked into place. And that's special enough. The symbiote could never comprehend the depth of that connection—the trust, the vulnerability, the way Mingi's love had been a lifeline when Yunho had nothing left to hold onto.

The silence that followed felt strange. The symbiote didn't respond immediately, as if it were trying to process what Yunho had said. Its presence in his mind wasn't as suffocating as it had been before, but Yunho knew it wasn't gone. The creature was still there, lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But for now, Yunho was resolute. Mingi is mine, he thought, and this time, the conviction in his words was unshakable.

The symbiote's voice finally returned, though it was quieter this time, almost hesitant. You're an idiot, it murmured. But it was not cruel, not as mocking as it had been before. There was a faint hint of something like admiration, or perhaps begrudging acceptance.

Yunho exhaled slowly, relieved but still on edge. I'm not asking for your approval, he thought back, his words firm but tinged with the faintest trace of amusement. But I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. And if you try to hurt him again, we'll have a problem.

The symbiote was silent again, but Yunho felt its presence shift. It was no longer a looming threat in his mind. In that brief, fragile moment, Yunho had regained some semblance of control.

I am Venatus, the symbiote's voice finally resonated, rich and deep, with a strange sense of finality. It wasn't a name Yunho had expected, but somehow it felt right. Venatus. It echoed in his thoughts like a warning, a promise, and yet, strangely, a bond.

The name sent a ripple through Yunho's consciousness, as though it was the key to something much bigger than either of them. Venatus... Yunho repeated mentally, feeling the weight of the name. It didn't feel alien anymore, but like something that had always been a part of him, lurking beneath the surface. What does that mean?

It means hunger, Venatus responded with a growl that shook the very air around Yunho, but not just for power. It means a desire to feel. To be alive. To embrace the chaos.

The symbiote's voice was both seductive and chilling, but Yunho didn't recoil this time. He could feel a flicker of understanding between them now. It wasn't just about destruction—it was something else. Something more.

And what do you want, Venatus? Yunho asked, his voice quiet but steady, accepting the presence of the symbiote in his mind in a way he never had before.

I want control, it replied, a cold satisfaction creeping into its tone. And I want to burn away the remnants of weakness inside you. To break down the pieces of you that refuse to accept who you really are. And once I've done that... we'll be unstoppable.

Yunho could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin, swirling with something raw and untamed. It was more than just the physical strength. It was a force that could bend the world to his will. And yet, as tempting as the thought was, something deep inside him recoiled.

You're not the one in control, Yunho said quietly, though there was no malice in his tone. I still decide what happens next.

Venatus didn't reply immediately, but Yunho could feel the symbiote testing the edges of his mind, probing for weakness. It was searching, waiting for Yunho to falter.

But Yunho wasn't afraid anymore.

I'm the one who will decide what happens, he thought resolutely, because I won't let you take everything from me. Not my heart. Not Mingi. Not the things that make me human.

Suddenly, Yunho's radio device vibrated in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. The static crackled before the message came through clearly:

"Assailant, gang robbers."

His heart skipped a beat, adrenaline surging through his veins as he stood up straight. The voice on the other end was urgent, distorted, but unmistakable—another call for Spider-Man.

Yunho's grip tightened on the edge of the counter, his gaze flickering toward the window as his mind processed the message. His first instinct was to rush into action. His father, his past, the symbiote—they were all momentarily forgotten as the weight of his responsibility to the city came crashing down on him.

But the symbiote, now more a part of him than ever, spoke to him inside his head, its voice smooth and confident.

Finally, something fun.

Yunho clenched his jaw. The urge to transform, to feel the familiar rush of power, was overwhelming. His fingers twitched, craving the rush of his Spider-Man suit. The symbiote was right—this was the perfect opportunity, the perfect distraction.

He glanced at his reflection again. The man in the mirror was no longer the boy he had been, not even the hero he once was. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was anymore, but the city needed him.

Don't get attached, don't lose yourself in this, he thought, clenching his fists. I've got a job to do.

But Venatus was already on the move, the symbiote stirring beneath his skin, coaxing him. Why hold back? You know they're just pawns in the game. You could end it all in seconds, Yunho. Why waste time?

Yunho felt the burn of the symbiote's hunger rising, the temptation to unleash it all. He could see the criminals in his mind's eye, their faces twisted in greed and malice. It would be so easy to let go, to let Venatus take over and handle it.

But he knew better.

Not yet, Yunho thought firmly. I can do this my way.

He knew he couldn't afford to let his emotions get the best of him, but deep down, the voice of Venatus still whispered in the back of his mind.

Let me help you. Together, we could crush them all.

Yunho gritted his teeth, shaking his head. I can handle this. I'm not doing this for you.

He unlocked the door but decided to escape from the backdoor just in case someone saw him

Yunho shot his web toward the alley behind his house, the familiar hiss of the webbing filling the night air as he swung out into the streets. His senses heightened, his body instinctively adjusting to the rhythm of his swings, as if everything about him had become one with the city.

The voice of the symbiote was still there, lingering, pressing in on his thoughts like a silent whisper, You're doing this for you, Yunho. Don't deny it. They're just criminals. Nothing more than tools for your power.

Yunho clenched his jaw, pushing the thoughts away, forcing himself to focus. The city was calling. He didn't have time for this inner turmoil. I'm not like you, he reminded himself, I'm not going to let you control me.

As he swung through the streets, his mind raced, the radio message replaying over and over in his mind. A gang robbery. The city had been on edge lately with organized crime making a resurgence. His presence was needed. People were counting on him, and even if the symbiote wanted to tear through everything in its path, Yunho knew his duty.

He reached the location, a rundown warehouse at the edge of the city. It was eerily quiet except for the low hum of the building's power system. He dropped down to the ground, crouching low as he surveyed the scene from the shadows. His eyes darted around, looking for any signs of movement. The place was a fortress—guard dogs, cameras, the works—but Yunho was Spider-Man.

He could feel Venatus' influence at the back of his mind, the power of the symbiote urging him to take charge, to show no mercy. This is the moment, Yunho. You don't need to sneak around. You could have it all. Crush them now.

Yunho's fists clenched. I'm not you, he thought, breathing deeply to steady himself. I'm not a monster.

He darted forward, his movements fluid, silent. The first guard didn't even have time to react before Yunho's webbing had pinned him to the wall. One down. He continued his path, knocking out two more, all the while the symbiote's voice growing more insistent, more demanding. This is what you're meant for. You could break them, hurt them—take control. It's all yours, Yunho.

Each step forward, each moment closer to the heart of the warehouse, the more the voice seemed to pull at him. He was so close.

They deserve this, Venatus whispered, The world deserves to see your power.

Yunho froze. For a split second, he considered it. He could feel the power within him, swirling, alive. He could feel how easy it would be to unleash it—unleash everything. He clenched his fists, the symbiote reacting to his hesitation. Come on, Yunho, take the leap. Show them who you really are.

But Yunho snapped his eyes shut, exhaling sharply. Not yet, he whispered to himself. I'm still in control.

He pushed forward, not allowing the temptation to take over. The criminals were just ahead—five of them, armed, laughing and counting their loot. Yunho's heart raced as he prepared for the inevitable confrontation. But before he could make his move, one of the men turned around, spotting him.

"Hey! It's Spider-Man!" one of them yelled, pulling out a gun.

Without thinking, Yunho launched himself forward, webbing the gun from the man's hands and slamming him into the nearby wall. The fight began in an instant—punches, kicks, webs flying through the air as the gang attempted to retaliate.

Now's your chance, the symbiote purred, Finish them off. Show them the true meaning of power.

But Yunho didn't listen. He dodged a punch, flipped over another assailant, and webbed the last man's hands to the floor. He didn't need to kill them. He didn't need to prove anything.

He was Spider-Man, and that meant protecting people—not ruling them.

Yunho's breath caught as the symbiote's tendrils lashed out, wrapping around the robbers with terrifying speed, tearing his costume apart from the back. The black jelly-like mass pulsated from his back, the power surging through him like a drug. The tendrils gripped the criminals, lifting them off the ground effortlessly as they struggled, their eyes wide with fear.

"No, Venatus!" Yunho shouted, his voice shaking with urgency. "I said stop!"

But the symbiote wasn't listening. It was in control now, its grip tightening as it squeezed, the dark power spilling out of him in a dangerous wave. The robbers screamed, terror rising in the air as their bodies twisted against the black tendrils. The symbiote's influence was too strong, its hunger for chaos consuming him.

I'm not killing them, Yunho. I'm just helping you out, Venatus purred, its voice smoother, more insidious than before.

I don't need your help! Yunho snarled, fighting against the surge of power in his body. His heart raced, his muscles tense with the strain of keeping his will intact against the growing urge to let the symbiote take over. This isn't me!

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate, blocking out the symbiote's voice. The world around him felt distant, the sounds of the criminals' struggles muffled as he focused all his strength on pushing Venatus back.

The symbiote resisted, the tendrils twitching with frustration as they continued to lash out, but Yunho's will was strong. He forced the symbiote to retract, the black mass slowly sliding back into his skin, leaving the robbers unconscious but unharmed.

When it was over, Yunho stood still, chest heaving with exertion, his fists clenched at his sides. The tendrils were gone, but the black marks on his skin lingered, reminding him of the battle he had just fought—both against the criminals and against the monster within him.

You're weak, Venatus whispered darkly in his mind, the words heavy and cruel. You should have killed them. You should have taken control. This world is nothing but a playground for the powerful, Yunho. Why do you keep holding back?

[frankenkyle19]

Kinktober Day 2: Food-play With Peter Maximoff

word count: 4k

Description/warnings: Food play, Oral (both male and fem receiving), unprotected sex, fast fucking (it’s Peter, so it’s fast fast), Peter being a goof

Peter had to admit it. He had some… odd kinks. Or… unique interests is what he liked to call them. He didn’t have a ton of experience but he did have a very vivid imagination. He wasn’t too eager to share some of his kinks, but maybe, just maybe this one wouldn’t be too weird? I mean it wasn’t by any means considered normal or vanilla, but it also wasn’t hardcore at all.

It was no surprise that Peter had a bit of a sweet tooth. Constantly snacking on something that contained high levels of sugar. It kept his blood sugar up and his metabolism didn’t burn through it as fast, and… it tasted good. So why wouldn’t he like it? 

Twinkies, whipped cream, cakes and ice creams. Peter liked it all and could probably eat it for every meal if he was allowed. Protein? A balanced meal? What’s that? 

Peter was also into all sorts of freaky stuff. He’s definitely not the kind of dude to be vanilla. He had outrageous ideas that usually turned off most of the partners he’s had in the past. They weren’t too wild, but still, it just hadn’t been their thing and that was okay with Peter. It didn’t make him want to test out these things any less though. 

Once he met you everything changed, as cheesy as it sounds. You’re down for anything and everything that Peter brings to the table. He kept it chill for a while, not wanting to scare you off, but you were always down to clown with him and would hear him out for any idea he had, no matter how odd.

So when he brought this idea up to you, you laughed right in his face. Not because it was an odd or even bad idea, but because he had been so shy to bring it up to you in the first place. 

“I want to cover you in whipped cream and syrups and lick it off you. Y’know? Like- it’s called food play. I really wanna try it. The idea really fucking turns me on baby- why are you laughing?!”

Peter watched you for several seconds before your fits of laughter subsided, leaving you to catch your breath as you shook your head. Peter was kinda freaking out. Why were you laughing? Oh god were you laughing at him?

You finally managed to catch your breath as you looked at the silver haired mutant in front of you. 

“Peter- I- I mean I’m totally down to do that with you, but why were you so nervous to ask me? It’s not like anything outrageously freaky. Did you really think I’d say no?” You questioned. 

Peter sighed and covered his face shyly with his hands before peeking out at you. 

“I was just-“ his voice was muffled from his hands covering his face.

“I just was… I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time and was worried you’d shoot the idea down. It’s like- one of my fantasies.” Fantasies. What the fuck was wrong with him? He wasn’t in some cheesy porno. Get yourself together, Peter. 

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at how shy he’d become. Peter. The man who always had a comeback for everything. A snarky response to absolutely anything. You realized then that he truly had been nervous to tell you this.

“I’m not like that Peter. Sure, there’s things I don’t like but I’d be honest with you. You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me your interests. I want you to be happy and I’m more than happy to try out new things with you.”

Peter let his hands fall from his face as his dimples peeked out, a big shit eating grin that showed you that he was back to his normal goofy self. Goofball…

“I’ve got a bunch of ideas baby- whipped cream, chocolate syrup, honey, ooo cherries. You’ll be my own personal sundae.” He began, eyes darting around as he fidgeted with his hands, something he did when he was trying to stay still and keep himself relatively calm. He never stayed still, some part of him always needing to move to get out pent up energy. 

“Okay I’ll be- I’ll be right back-“ and without another word, Peter was gone, your hair messily flying around in the wind his quick escape created.

He was only gone three minutes tops and came back with two grocery bags on his arms, still grinning ridiculously.

“I really really hope you paid for all that, Peter.”

“Pfffft, course I did babe. Who do you think I am?” He chuckled, but you just knew he was lying. What were you going to do with him? Your little thief. Stealing lots of things, including your heart. 

Peter impatiently gestured to the bags on his arms before nodding his head towards the bed, body buzzing with excitement. He was beyond ready for this.

“So, what do I have to do?” You asked curiously as you made your way towards the bed, Peter at your heels.

“Ah you just lay back and relax baby. Enjoy the rideee”

You rolled your eyes but nodded, pulling off your shirt and pants, leaving you in just your undergarments 

“Take these off too?” You asked curiously, to which he nodded enthusiastically, setting the bags down at the edge of the bed, he began sorting through the various items he had ‘bought’ (stolen)

You and Peter weren’t shy around each other. Peter would walk around naked all the time if it was socially acceptable. You on the other hand were a bit more wary about being nude, but Peter never judged you or your body. In fact, the opposite. He praised you like a goddess, treating you with so much love as well as respect. It made your heart flutter. Despite how goofy and dumb he could be at times, Peter was respectful and loving beyond your wildest imagination.

So, you slipped off your bra and panties before laying back on the bed, feet shoving the bags of food items to the side a bit to give you some more room, causing a huff from Peter who was still sorting through things.

The silver haired mutant froze in his tracks when he saw your figure. He whistled lowly and shook his head as he bit his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Damn baby, you’re smokin’. I’m so fucking excited for this you have no idea-“ he said, pulling the rest of the items from the bags before tossing the plastic onto the floor. No wonder his room was always so messy…

He crawled over you and pulled you into a kiss, eager to get things started. You humored him for a moment but shook your head, cupping his cheek 

“You are wearing far too much right now, Peter. I think it’s only fair that you take a few… layers off.” You said, gesturing to your own naked body.

You had intended for him to take them off slowly, give you a little show, but why would he do that? That wasn’t practical and he never did anything slow. He ripped his clothes off faster than your eyes could catch up with before moving off the bed to grab something from the bags. 

His cock was half hard between his thighs, a bush of silver curly hairs covering his crotch, trailing up into a sparse trail of hairs that met his belly button. What was it about his dumb, silver hair that drove you nuts?

He grabbed a can of whipped cream first, shaking it as he looked you over. How did he score someone as hella smoking as you? 

You just smiled up at him, watching curiously as he lowered the tip of the whipped cream can to your shoulder, pressing down as a small swirl of whipped cream came into contact with your skin. You shivered a bit, not expecting it to be so cold, but the cold feeling was soon replaced by something much much warmer. 

Peter’s tongue lapped at the whipped cream eagerly, his teeth even nipping on your skin a bit as he made sure to clean it all up. He licked his lips as he pulled away, eyes now a much darker shade of brown then before, pupils blown wide. 

“Damn. We should have done this so much sooner.” Was all he said, reaching for the can again as he placed another dollop of cold whipped cream onto your body. Right above your left breast.

He once more leaned down and carefully licked up the sweet cream before he made it to your skin underneath, giving gentle kisses here and there as he let his tongue trace over you.

You hummed softly, closing your eyes and relaxing into the bed. This wasn’t exactly… anything special so far. But you knew it’d eventually get there. So the anticipation was truly the best part. It was a waiting game.

You flinched at the sudden sound and feeling of the whipped cream being poured onto your breasts, your eyes shooting open as you looked up at Peter. His eyes were so dark they were hard to make out as he leaned down, licking over your hardened buds as the white cream met his tongue. He moaned softly, and once each breast was cleaned, he sucked them into his mouth, one at a time, looking up at you with the most ridiculously innocent look he’d given this whole time. Damn him..

“Peterrrr '' you whined softly, chest arching into the feeling of his warm, wet mouth. You were beginning to grow a bit impatient, ready for more. You always hated his teasing. It drove you nuts.

Peter just grinned mischievously, setting the whipped cream down on his bedside table before reaching for something else.

Chocolate syrup.

“Jesus Peter, you’re going to make a mess-“

“Nope! I happen to have an expert tongue that’ll get it all cleaned up.” He said suggestively as he struggled a bit to open the container. Once he did though, he leaned over you again, going lower this time as he began to drizzle the sticky dark syrup onto your stomach, making you cringe a bit. You’d definitely be showering later to get all the sticky remnants off of your body. 

Peter set the syrup down next to the whipped cream before pulling back to get a good view of you. And god damn did you look good. 

His tongue traced the chocolate down down down, until he was at your core. He blew onto your dripping cunt as he grinned wickedly.

Oh you’d get him back for this…

He continued to tease you like this for several moments and you debated kicking him in the groin for it. 

But finally sweet relief came as the first swipe of his tongue swept over your weeping cunt. A quiet cry left your parted lips as you looked down to see his head of silver hair, the rest of his features hidden from your view as he began to eat you out vigorously.

Usually he’d tease the hell out of you before just going at it, but maybe he realized he’d teased you enough already. Or maybe he was just that desperate to get a taste of you. Peter would definitely say it was the latter.. He hadn’t always been an expert at eating you out. You had basically taught him everything he knows now, being he wasn’t very experienced with anything when you two first met. And god did your teaching pay off.

Peter brought the pad of his thumb to rest against your clit as a buzzing sensation of pleasure surged through you. That little shit was vibrating his fucking thumb. It was so much that it was almost torturous, and you gasped, trying to wriggle away from the overwhelming touch. You had a love hate relationship with how he abused his powers in the bedroom, the pleasure so overwhelming but so blindingly good. 

Peter just laughed, and that’s when you had finally had enough. You sat up, confusing Peter before you tackled him back onto the bed, shaking your head as you used all your strength to pin him. Realistically you knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, but he was humoring you, curious to see what you had planned.

You grabbed the whipped cream off of the table and tapped the tip of it to Peter’s mouth, signaling for him to open, which he did. You sprayed some of the cream into his mouth, keeping him quiet for several moments as he worked on swallowing it. 

In the meantime, your hand came to wrap around his hard length, causing him to yelp in surprise at the sudden stimulation. He nearly choked on the whipped cream as he tried to prop himself up a bit, eyes laser focused on the way his cock slid through your hand. 

 Peter finally managed to swallow the whipped cream he had in his mouth, finally able to moan out in pleasure at your touch. God you were soooo fucking good at this. It was unreal. You’d been touching him for like .5 seconds and he was already ready to bust. 

He was hot and hard in your hand, causing you to shiver a bit at the thought of him inside you. No matter how many times you two were intimate, he always felt magical inside you. Each and every time.

“Hand me the whipped cream, Peter-“ you hummed, stroking over the tip, collecting the pre-cum there and spreading it over his length.

“Why?” Peter decided to question. He always questioned everything anyone ever did. He wasn’t the brightest in the bunch but was always curious.

“Jesus Pete can you just hand it to me? I’ll show you.” You had stopped stroking him to reach for the can, which he quickly handed over to you, eyebrows furrowed in a curious sort of confusion.

Soon enough, his confusion turned into shock as you carefully squirted a little bit of whipped cream onto the tip of his cock, causing him to jump. His cock twitched lightly, causing the whipped cream to wobble, nearly making you laugh.

Setting down the bottle, you took the base of Peter’s cock back into your hand to hold it steady as you leaned down, ready to clean the sweet cream from his cock.

“Woah wait are you being for real right now holy shit oh my goddddd-“ He got cut off with a whine of his own, watching with intensity as you licked the whipped cream off of him before suckling his tip into your mouth, the cream mixing with his own cream. 

“There’s- no fucking way this is actually h-happening right now holy shitttt” Peter gasped, hand coming up to run through his sweaty silver hair, pushing it back and off of his forehead as he watched your every move. Your eyes met his own as you suckled on the head of his cock, coaxing a moan from his throat as he swallowed hard, hips subconsciously shifting up to try and get more of the feeling.

“Fuck please- gotta give me more then that baby, feels so nice- god damn-“ he cursed, writhing against the bed as you took him deeper into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag lightly.

Peter sighed heavily, stomach muscles tensing as he leaned down and gently caressed your hair, his big hands massaging your scalp as you bobbed your head on his dick.

Soon enough, Peter began to subtly vibrate, just like he always did when he was getting close to his release. Luckily enough for you, you’d learned that from experience and knew to pull away.

With one final kiss to the tip of his red, throbbing cock, you crawled your way back up to him, smiling softly as you kissed him. Sex with Peter was so hot and erotic, but in the same beat so soft and comforting. You felt so safe in his arms.

“So, is this living up to your expectations so far?” You asked against his lips, smiling softly as you leaned over him. 

“Better- god so much better-“ he shook his head, laughing softly as he pulled you into a kiss before flipping you over onto the bed, getting between your thighs as something popped into his mind. Another idea, but this time he wasn’t as shy in asking.

“Can I try out another fantasy of mine?” He asked, stroking his cock before he rubbed the tip against your clit, causing you to moan softly, arching your hips up against his. And in this kind of situation, how could you say no to anything he asked to try? It was simple. You couldn’t.

“W-what is it?” You asked, breath heavy as you bit your bottom lip between your teeth, looking down as he slid his cock between your folds, teasing you as he let his tip slip in before pulling back.

“Want to cum inside you. Fill you up. Be my little cream pastry.” 

He had such an awful way with his words, the sensual moment gone, replaced with a laugh from you as you grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down closer to you.

“That’s fine Peter, I’m on the pill but I- never call me your little cream pastry ever ever again.”

“Aww, really? I thought it was kinda hot..” he sighed, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Definitely not, now get on with it, Quicksilver, I don’t have all day.” You pulled him closer, gripping onto his shoulders as he finally slipped inside of you, his arousal mixed with your own making it all too easy for him to slide in with zero resistance.

“Jesus Christ-“ he moaned out, gripping onto the bed on either side of your head tightly as he rocked into you, his heavy balls slapping against you with each thrust.

“F-fuck baby- fuck Peter so good to me, so good Quickie.” You moaned out, wrapping your legs around him as he sped up his thrusts. He could go fast. Freakishly fast, but he always waited for your word to go for it, not wanting to hurt you.

“You’re so good to me” Peter cooed as he thrust into you, his cock hitting spots so deep inside you it made you ache, pleasure mixed with a hint of pain. “Too good to me- letting me try out my kinks with you- so- so fucking nice to me.” He grunted, hair falling into his face as his breathing quickened. You knew neither of you were going to last long, too desperate for release.

“We’re  going to be so sticky, Peter.” You giggled, out of breath as you clawed at his shoulders. Each time he thrust into you the air got knocked out of your lungs. 

You could see that he was restraining himself. Holding back from how fast he really wanted to go. Poor thing, it was always such a struggle for him, trying to go the speed of the world when he just wanted to speed through everything.

“Peter-“ you spoke gently, carding your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. He peeked up at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Y-yeah?” He panted out, burying his face into the crook of your neck, licking at the skin there as if you were his own personal candy.

“Faster baby, you know I can take it, I’ve taken it before.” You whispered against his ear, and it nearly had him cumming right then and there. Holy fuck, it was the conformation he needed, and he wasted absolutely no time at all. He braced his hands on the headboard, letting his fingers curl around the wood until his knuckles turned white.

He sped up in the blink of an eye, fucking you so fast and hard that it was bordering on painful. His groin slapped against your clit in such a way that caused you to moan out, the friction being just what you needed.

“There we go- fuck- such a good boy, such a fast boy” you moaned out, your words were punchy, each time he thrust back into you, you choked on a cry, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing his thumb over your clit perfectly, and if that wasn’t enough, a subtle vibrating had erupted from Peter, not only was his thumb vibrating subtly, but his cock was as well, buzzing inside your warm, tight walls, making you choke out another ragged moan.

Peter was barreling towards the finish line, but he always needed to have you finish first. Not just because he was a gentleman, but because the spasms of your cunt around his cock when you released caused a much more intense, pleasurable orgasm for himself.

“Please cum for me baby, please need it so bad-“ he whined, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. His bottom lip was bitten tightly between his teeth as he tried so hard to restrain himself from cumming.

It didn’t take much more for you to fall off the edge. The way his thumb was vibrating against your clit with just the right amount of please, the way his cock hit spots deep inside you that made you see stars. It was a recipe for the perfect orgasm if there ever was one. 

Your back arched as you clawed at his shoulders, burying your face against his chest as you came with a cry, your whole body shaking as pleasure coursed through each and every bone in your body. 

When he felt you clench around him, Peter was a goner. He gave a few more half hearted thrusts into you before he came deep inside your walls as you clenched around him, milking him for everything he had.

It was almost too much for Peter, the way your walls hugged him tightly, pulsing around his now sensitive cock. He stayed inside you for several more moments before pulling out, watching the trail of his cum that leaked out of you, and damn. If he hadn’t just came so hard, he’d be ready for round two. 

He collapsed next to you, looking over at you with a goofy smile. Hair all fucked up, chest heaving, pupils blown wide. He looked wild in the most beautiful way possible.

“That was-“ he panted, at a loss for words as he turned to face you, his hand reaching out to gently caress your side.

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had. Hands down.” He laughed softly, his breathing beginning to calm as he came down from his high. It was so intense, it took him much longer to recover than usual.

“We need to shower.” You grimaced, feeling the remnants of chocolate and whipped cream beginning to dry and become tacky.

“Babeeee- in a little bit, let me revel in how good this way-“ 

You shook your head, cupping his cheek as you placed a kiss to his lips, tasting the leftover chocolate as well as your own arousal. 

“We can have more fun in the shower. Only if you’re up for it though-“ you said, shrugging as you sat up. If he didn’t want to shower with you, you’d just do it by yourself.

“Hey! Wait!” Peter sat up with lightning speed, his abused cock giving a pathetic twitch of interest as he crawled across the bed to you, grabbing your hand. He had the most pathetic pout on his face you’d ever seen.

“Pleaseee? I’m coming! I’ll shower right now!” He said, standing up, picking you up with him before he sped off to the shower, setting you on the side of the tub as he got the water to the perfect temperature.

“Ready for round two?” He said, the biggest smirk ever set on his lips. Dear lord, you were in for a longgg night.

[thegreenhordes]

Twilight's Notes: Autopsy Report

Subject: Cheerilee Infection Type: Stage 3, Growler Cause of Death: Malnutrition

Important Notes: Food was provided to the Subject through slats in the door to her observation room. It was noted that she refused any non-meat food items, often smelling provided vegetables and fruit before wandering away in an angry huff. When provided with meat the subject devoured it ravenously. (Additional Note: Fluttershy is still Very distraught by the act of feeding meat to a subject, understandably so. The animals butchered were already dead when it was done, but I admit the act turned my stomach as well.)

Results of the Autopsy of Cheerilee: Pustules had a thicker membrane than what has been found in other Growler subjects, this has been noted in the Growler files under 'Secondary Mutations', Section Four, Pustule Growth. Additionally, the fluid inside had developed a thick consistency, atypical of previous tests on samples taken from the subject while still alive. Potentially a postmortem event similar to bloating and blood coagulation. The Cranial region of the subject shows typical deconstruction of the front of the skull where the largest pustules grow over the eyes. Bone was missing and the brain was protected solely by the thick covering of the pustules themselves. This was noted with previous autopsies as being how popping the facial pustules can be used to kill the infected. Oddly enough, Cheerilee is a unique case- in that her eyes were still present. They were nonfunctional and buried beneath the growths, but she is the only Growler so far to have them still intact. They were pushed back into the remainder of the skull and put pressure on her brain. It was noted this may be the reason for some of the subject's atypical behavior. (Note: Cheerilee struggled to walk in a straight line and frequently ran into the walls. Additionally, she had a total of five seizures in the few weeks she was in stage 3.)

The state of the subject's teeth were abysmal, many of them were chipped or shattered due to aggressive clenching and gnawing on bone. Multiple lesions in the mouth reveal a recurring observation that the sharpened teeth of the infected don't fit right in the mouth and will often cut their cheeks. The manner in which the teeth end up in this state is still debated. (Personal Note: I believe there is magic involved in much of the disease's effects, with the transformation of the teeth being one such magic-affected change.)

Internal organs were in poor condition, showing signs typical of extreme malnutrition. There were also several tumors and cysts found throughout, once again not uncommon in Growler cadavers. However there were less within Cheerilee than in previous subjects. I'm noting this as being likely due to Cheerilee being the shortest-lived Type 1 in my care to date. Aside from the growths- Which were later tested and found to be a mix of benign and cancerous- I discovered something I hadn't noticed before, though I suspect that was a simple oversight on my part. The glands that create saliva were engorged, the pores from which saliva is discharged were wider than normal. This almost certainly explains the thick, excessive saliva that often drips from a Type 1's mouth.

Final Notes: Most findings were either typical, or slightly atypical of the Type 1 infected. Though some new things were discovered, overall the autopsy proved to be more useful in the fact that I obtained a significant number of samples that I can use. I'll be taking these to study and try to find anything the may lead me towards an understanding of the mutagenic properties of the infection. I may also compare the samples to early-stage infected, stage 1s, 2s, and recovered ponies. My goal is not just to understand the infected themselves, but how the disease got to where it is now- Perhaps develop some sort of vaccine, or a cure for those still in the first 1-2 weeks where they can be saved.

I will be adding this file to the autopsy logs for future reference.

[power-chords]

Random post-COVID update: I got infected for the third time right before Thanksgiving and first tested positive 11/22/2022. I was testing consistently negative after a round of Paxlovid + Paxlovid “rebound” by 12/3/2022. I had an episode of post-exertional malaise and joint pain that following weekend which was triggered by going for drinks with friends on a Friday night and then sprinting close to a mile from the Garment District to catch a train at Grand Central. These are common symptoms of PASC (Long COVID) and I was totally flattened and very grateful it was a weekend because I would have been totally nonfunctional at work. My Adderall dose did nothing. All I could do was lie down and watch TV and sleep.

By that Monday I was OK, so I resumed commuting to work. I spoke to a friend of mine who had Long COVID for about eight weeks after his first acute infection and it was bad enough that his doctor didn’t even want him to fly — his symptoms were primarily respiratory. He’s an avid cyclist and in good physical shape. He saw a LC specialist who advised him that most people return to “normal” levels of physical exercise much too soon after acute COVID recovery and that appears to be a major trigger. The major takeaway is that you need 8-10 weeks of strict avoidance of “real” exercise, anything that isn’t walking around, housework, lifting stuff here and there, and ascending short flights of stairs. She sees a lot of LC in people who are young and were otherwise healthy and physically very active, which she doesn’t think is a coincidence. These people are getting sick, returning to hiking and cycling and running as soon as they feel better, and then wham, they get hit with classic LC symptoms. My friend was prescribed several weeks of sustained bed rest which fortunately he could take due to his job, and he made a full recovery from LC. He’s since resumed cycling and has gradually and carefully built himself back up to more or less where he was prior to infection.

So since my own infection and that bout with PEM and Joint Hurty, I have avoided booze (which is an inflammatory) and taken that advice and I have not done anything to get myself seriously sweating and pumping blood and catching my breath. I have also tried to keep my sleeping and eating schedules regular, with less success (lol). I am going to keep it up through the end of January, and per the advice of LC forums and subreddits I have also been supplementing with antihistamines at night and low dose Aspirin and getting plenty of hydration + electrolytes (mostly drinking Gatorade). It is now 1/8/2023 and I have not had any further flares of intense fatigue or joint pain. My experience is purely anecdotal and I can’t confidently say it will work for everybody, but it has definitely been working for me, so I thought I’d put it out there. Just because you feel you are recovered from COVID does not mean you’re out of the woods for Long COVID — do yourself a favor and be extraordinarily gentle with yourself as long as you possibly can.

[marmotsomsierost]

Don't lie to your fucking kids. If something is going to hurt, tell them. If it's going to hurt a little, say it will hurt a little. If it's going to hurt a lot, say it will hurt- (some wiggle room, like you don't necessarily have to say it will hurt a lot, but don't minimize it.)

If something is going to hurt, DON'T say it won't hurt. DON'T say it's going to be one thing that has been painless in their experience when it is going to be a different thing that will be painful.

Like, say, telling your kid you're going to put a pulse oximeter on their finger and then doing a finger stick for a glucometer. Congratulations! Now your kid is going to be afraid of both the glucose testing AND the pulse oximeter! And has absolutely no reason to trust you OR any medical person about anything! Glucose monitoring lancets fucking hurt and i'm a grown-ass adult with adult brain knowledge about why it hurts and why it's necessary and mechanically why it hurts, specifically, not a preschooler still learning what the fuck it's like to exist in a body while being entirely dependent on the adults and others in their life to keep them safe during this learning process!

Fuck!

Just as a random out of my hat totally random example, of course. Not at all because my heart is still a little broken from the bewildered gaze of a kid when i didn't let the pulse oximeter close on their finger until they told me to (which was never, because as soon as they touched their finger to the lower side of it they whipped it back out). We were able to examine carefully a neonate one and then be reassured enough it could not be poky that we got it on a finger, but like the kid was pink warm and dry, calm(ish) with normal respirations so it would not have been the end of the world to not have gotten it at that moment. It's a safe time to take the time and also let the kid say no, or not yet.

Yes, of course there are going to be situations where it is not optional. Where you have to figure out how to get three people in a very small area to hold down a toddler so the fourth person can get the IV or get the blood drawn, or when you have to wrangle the sock off and the pulse ox on and then wrangle the sock back on and try to distract further from there so you get a good read. But if it's not that kind of situation, for fuck's sake- treat your kid like a person.

[firespirited]

I've been up about every three-ish hours the past few nights as my blood pressure meds have a, you guessed it, three hour half life.

Usually I handle nights OK: you're lying down without moving so BPs stable but the stomach issues are causing cramps that press on major arteries and stop blood flow to my legs. On a normal night I'll just have landmine or bleeding out dreams because that kind of pain bleeds through to the unconscious.

On a bad BP day it feels like a panic attack that doesn't end, the involuntary gasp-yawns that sound like sighing just escalate like drowning on land.

Most medication is made to avoid high blood pressure, especially when lying down - the meds I take, specifically designed for folks with low BP come with severe warnings about risks of bp elevation if taken too close to sleep! Options are very limited and thus the short half life of bp stimulants. They get you to do odd stuff like eat lots of salt instead to prolong the effects.

I've hit delay after delay with candida testing as the local lab got bought up and decreased the tests they will do, pushing folks back to the bigger town specialists and the hospitals.

Working on finding a work around that doesn't involve a long trip as my neck won't handle it without a post-drive migraine.

Probably going to have to see a gut specialist at some point anyway. It would appear that it takes 4 days and a lot of internal irritation with violent cramping for food to go through me. I'd half hoped the walks would fix that but it's not deconditioning but myasthenia of all the internal muscle sphincters such as those pumping blood, keeping my pupils blown etc.

It's funny how you have to explain it to yourself and others: yes the thing affecting the muscles on the outside of the skeleton also affects the ones on the inside that we don't think of as muscles, wild. No, exercise doesn't fix it. The jaw dislocates, the eyes don't focus, hand grip drops and I haven't stopped using them at any point. I mean technically most of them are white muscle tissue sphincters moving stuff up and down tubes. Humans are lots of tubes.

Did you know the word bowel came from the food/meat? So maybe we had been eating sausages long before we found out we had our own internal sausages. I like to think that was both a surprise but also a moment that made total sense : dude, we're just like chickens, duuude we have sausages and woah they're so long.

Lmao i forgot about caffeine (longer half life), caff fuelled sleep here i come.

[theoriginalivyannazimuth]

Print poster - Framed Print

About the piece:

So this year a lifetime of medical gaslighting and misogyny crashed down on me all at once. There was once a time where I was worried that if I went to the doctor the worst thing that would happen is that they would call me fat. Now when I go to the doctor I worry if they are going to not tell me or not look at a life threatening or lifelong illness.

This year I was diagnosed with autism, something that I was tested for in 04/05 but back then they still very much had the mindset that female presenting children/ girls did not get autism. Never mind the fact that the diagnosis they gave my parents would have been the textbook definition of (outdated term for level 1 autism but at the time would have been called) asperges syndrome if it was a boy, no I was simply socially inept, intellectually and developmentally delayed, with no need to do anything beyond a IEP that was followed for like 3 years at most. It took a total burn out resulting in the deepest suicidal ideation I have ever dealt with in my life to get diagnosed, the entire time being told by everyone along the way "Well everyone is a little bit autistic" and my favorite "You're not autistic and it is insulting to actual autistic people to claim you are".

I was 9 when they decided I wasn't worth a diagnosis. I was 28 when they decided I had groveled enough to be given a piece of paper saying I wasn't just a stupid useless girl who should be ignored.

I also got diagnosed with PCOS and it only took me nearly dying to have it addressed because if there's anything in the world doctors hate doing, it's listening to women's mensural issues. I went to numerous doctors as a kid and into my teens and early 20s about periods not coming for months then lasting for months. It got to the point where I had my period every day for 4 years, was experiencing debilitating pain that left me in the fetal position, and bleeding so much for so long that when I started fainting and FINALLY got a doctor to to bloodwork I got a call the next day telling me to come immediately. I was fainting because my hemoglobin was in the low 70s. They wanted me to do a transfusion but I was able to convince them to give me pills and to monitor it closely but they were amazed nobody looked into my iron issues (something I had also brought up a lot over the years) and YET. EVEN AFTER ALL THAT ALL THEY DID WAS ADDRESS THE IRON ISSUES AND IGNORE THE CAUSE. I had to go to the walkin over and over and over again to have them look at it and beg and grovel for a hysterectomy to at least stop the bleeding if they wouldn't look at the cause of the pain only to have to fight for over a year because they kept scheduling me for a hysterectomy only for me to show up and have them tell me it was a referral for a IUD. (A specific IUD which has a 30% chance of causing ovarian cysts in people who do not experience it where at this point I was pretty sure cysts were the cause of the pain).

Finally I got the surgery and lo and behold I have PCOS. Everything I said was right. I had cysts on my ovaries, in my fallopian tubes, and a uterus over twice the size of a normal uterus.

To add insult to injury at my 6 week post op check up, I was told they found a lot of precancerous cells that would have developed into cancer in 3-5 years.

Now I am playing a fun little game trying to get the doctors to address the fact that I am clearly insulin resistant as a part of the PCOS and that I have a lump in my breast, but the male doctor assured me it was just me not exercising ( I do) and eating wrong (I until recently could only afford to eat once a day) and that he would consider talking about the lump after the bloodwork.

I did the blood work the same day and didn't hear back from them. I called a month later so that I could check my own results myself and the secretary told me how odd it was because "It shows he got the results 3 days after you got the test done, but hasn't even opened them yet".

This was a month ago.

The results show liver damage and my blood being on the high end of normal after 14 hours of fasting.

I am now trying to figure out who to contact about a mammogram because this clinic doesn't care, trying to find a family doctor still after 6 years of trying (one of the nurses said at my surgery that family doctors don't like taking people who aren't basically completely healthy because they're "hard") and researching what kind of specific test needs to be done to tell the doctors what to refer me to while convincing them I am not just a little fat piggy and am in fact a person with apparently severe medical needs, all while trying to remain calm and polite and not neurotic so I am not kicked out of this clinic which is the only one who has up till this point even remotely listened to me.

This piece is because I am angry and I think I am dying and the men in charge of the medical industry don't care. I am ignored completely, and the main health issue I have is one that is not well researched with no known cause or cure because it effects women. Mind you it effects a LOT of women (about 10%) but apparently not enough to care about.

This whole situation has made my gender dysphoria rage which until now hasn't been a all consuming thing. I am nonbinary, I am comfortable with femininity and masculinity and have within me both, but this entire year has been very focused on my ability to breed which has seemed to really be the only thing the doctors actually care about, to the point where if I had let them, they would have put a IUD in me that would make the pain worse, let the cancer grow, and all to maintain some sort of mass societal breeding fetish because ogga booga p*ssy cum cum yay me big man me make baby take away booby person life and happiness.

The rage I feel on a daily basis is blinding.

There is no justice, only corpses of ignored female presenting people and women and the grinning beasts in white lab coats who killed them.

All over a reproductive organ that weighs less than a apple.

[eemamminy-art]

Rambly story thoughts about my other wol, F'lihn!! She's not in the same universe as Leigh, so in her story Leigh is probably just like.. a normal guy in Ul'dah lol. But I had some new ideas about her recently and today thought of adding another one of my OCs to her story so I wanted to talk about it!!

First of all, I changed her look ever so slightly the last few times I drew her:

Pictured with Glassi in this first one 🥰 I had been waffling for a while on whether she just bound her chest or had surgery, and ultimately I decided it made the most sense for her to at some point in her story have surgery. A big part of her background is that she is running from her past and afraid to let others know that she's a woman, so she presents as a man to most people she meets but doesn't identify as such in private. I thought the leaf tattoos would be nice because it ties into purple as her overall color scheme, and also her tribe is from a Garlean occupied territory so I thought of the Roman motifs using leaves as like a nice way to kind of.. reclaim her homeland by putting flora from it on her body.

Here, I opted to give her a different nose and make her hair even curlier, and you'll notice I gave her a Garlean third eye as well. Which leads into the next thing...

In my initial draft of her story, she was just pressured to conform and mate per usual sun seeker tribal lore and that was her reason for leaving her tribe, but I felt like something about it didn't quite sit right with me. Like it felt a little too upsetting for me personally and kind of disingenuous for the way seeker lore works out in practice.

Not that it's any less dark what I decided on... 🥲 but basically, I had an idea that her tribe was being subjected to experimentation by the young Prince Varis. His grandfather may have invented magitek, but Varis was seeking genetic modifications to try and create a way for Garleans to harness magic. F'lihn's mother was one of the test subjects, with the intention of F'lihn coming out as a magical garlean but instead she was born a very magically apt but otherwise normal miqo'te-- save for the third eye which normally was only in full blooded garleans. So the experiment was regarded a failure, Varis was pulled away by the emperor for other matters, and F'lihn was left to grow up with her tribe as some sort of abomination-- half garlean, half miqo'te.

It made her an outcast in her tribe, it made her hate herself at first, then as she grew older she directed that hate toward Garlemald and the future emperor instead. Her echo awoke when she had a premonition of her becoming the next subject for experimentation and she got the fuck out of there, never looking back and changing her entire identity.

She traveled for a while through Garlean territories until reaching Kugane, then from there secured travel to Limsa Lominsa. There, she began ARR as the warrior of light, and also she would soon meet her gf, a failing but stubborn ship captain named Glazisil-- Glassi to her mates.

Glassi was my first OC in ffxiv but she never ever felt like a proper warrior of light. She's not very bright, she's loud, she's brash, but by gods is she loyal and stubborn!! She had been trying to follow in her father's footsteps ever since she inherited his ship, but Limsa is different than it was in her father's youth, and between the red tape around piracy, her own inexperience, and her inability to wrangle her crew all into one place long enough for them to have any amount of success, she's been floundering and just barely making by up until she meets F'lihn. She's totally awestruck and enamored the first time they meet, and she's the first person F'lihn ever really gets close to. Think of her like a golden retriever in the body of a pitbull, with a bad habit for swearing and drinking. (I wrote about them once for ffxiv write-- their first meeting, centered around her and her crew making bets after not being able to discern F'lihn's gender at first glance)

F'lihn would've begun her journey as an archer I think, trained to hunt like most miqo'te women even despite being the black sheep of her tribe. In Limsa she would discover arcane magic, and learn just how much magical ability she truly had in spite of being half garlean. Which would eventually lead to her becoming a scholar, but I'll need to work out details of just how that happens :3

It also gives me a fun dynamic to explore for her when eventually meeting Zenos, since they would share a father and have their connection spark due to that. Zenos obsessing over the sibling he never knew he had, you know? It makes it so much more complicated for her too, that she hates this place and these people with every fiber of her being but that there's reminders like this that she's connected to them in an inescapable way. And that she seeks ways to reclaim her own body like the body modification stuff I mentioned above, to try and deal with it!!

Onto the new thought I had today:

This is Aya, she's another OC I made who I ended up not doing anything with after I made her... but I had it in my head that her being absolutely huge despite being a female au ra was due to some sort of garlean experimentation as well.

So what I thought of today, was that she was kidnapped from sui-no-sato as a child (to kind of compound their reasons for being so isolationist) and taken to garlemald after the occupation of Doma, and then was experimented on to make her grow tall and muscular like that. They wanted her to be a super soldier but they underestimated how resilient she is, and one day she was able to break free and flee the capital. She's a gunbreaker, so I want to think she fled through Bozja and picked that up there, and eventually made her way to Eorzea.

Given they have a similar history and similar hatred for the garlean empire, I thought Aya and F'lihn would get along really well and become fast friends!! Another addition to the wol's entourage.

At this rate F'lihn is just gonna be surrounded by giant women... 😂 which I'm very okay with (and so is she lmao)

Slowly I'm developing this alternate wol storyline and I'm enjoying it!!! Much as I've built up Leigh and he's forever going to be who I consider my main wol, I really love all I've thought of so far for F'lihn and Glassi's story :3 I kind of had some hopes to draw the two of them for oc kiss week but I'm quickly running out of time, so we will see if I pull some things together last minute haha

[chenziee]

Five

@lawluevents - Day 6: Conqueror's haki/Hand holding

@onepiece-bingo: Sound of Drums

Alternate summary: 1044 because of course it is :)

Alternate summary 2: write Nika Luffy without him turning into a giggly murdering maniac challenge

! MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 1044 (ENDING OF ONIGASHIMA) !

[ Read on AO3 | series ]

—————

Luffy never thought about losing. He refused to think about losing. There was too much on the line in Wano and if he lost to Kaido, then all of it was going to be destroyed. He promised he would win and smash the night to pieces—to Momo, to Tama, to Yamato, to Kin, to his crew, to Torao. He promised to win no matter what. 

And more than that, he himself couldn’t forgive Kaido.

He couldn’t afford losing to this man.

And so, when he did lose…

He was shocked to find out that he wasn’t upset, disappointed… or even angry.

No; instead, he was happy. Who knew losing would be so much fun? 

A giggle bubbling out of his chest, Luffy got to his knees. There was blood dripping off his face and staining the ground under him but he couldn’t feel any pain. He felt too giddy, too excited to get back to fighting.

What was that DOOM-DUT-DA-DA rhythm resounding all around him? A drum? Sure sounded like one… but that didn’t feel right. Oh, was that his heart beating?

“Okay, that’s funny!”

A new wave of giggles overcame him as he finally got to his feet; he felt so light now, like some invisible restraints had been lifted, giving him all the freedom he ever wanted. He was sure he could do everything he wanted to right now.

Looking at his hands, Luffy clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, testing. What if I make it bigger, bigger than Gear Third?

He barely finished the thought before his fist blew up into giant proportions—big enough to make it seem like he could just reach out and grab the moon off the sky, and big enough to make Luffy himself stumble at the sudden shift in his centre of gravity. Quickly shrinking his hand back to normal size, Luffy grinned.

“This is amazing!” he laughed happily, jumping up and down. He didn’t even notice until now but did his clothes turn white? That was so weird! “I really can do anything!! I can totally fight a bit longer like this! This is my peak. This is Gear Five!!”

Taking a deep breath, Luffy focused on his surroundings. He could feel countless people down below him, scrambling around as the battle went on. There were several strong Voices—Kaido’s was the strongest but he could hear Sanji, Yamato, Jaggy, Momo a bit further away… Zoro’s voice was weak but also there, just like several of the Akazaya samurai.

If at all possible, Luffy’s smile widened even more when he found his Torao.

He knew he and Jaggy would win. Torao was strong, after all; much stronger than stupid Big Mom.

His presence was comforting; hearing his Voice was grounding, keeping Luffy’s mind from getting off-track. He really was the last one to wrap up his fight, huh? That wouldn’t do! He couldn’t keep everyone waiting like this!

Luffy snickered, cracking the knuckles of both his hands before pulling his right arm back. “Here I go, Kaido!” Luffy called to no one in particular, letting his haki flow—

—only to startle at how effortlessly it came to him. Has his Conqueror’s haki always been this powerful? Did it always so free, so light, was it always so easy for him to control?

This form, this Gear Five… It was just so fun!

A grin on his lips, Luffy thrust his hand forward, letting it grow into the arm of a giant to easily bust a hole in the Skull Dome’s ceiling, grabbing for Kaido. He laughed at how tiny the dragon’s body seemed in his hold. Like a simple rope, just ready to be tossed around.

This was where the real battle started.

—————

“Idiot!”

“Huh?” Luffy blinked, pausing with where he was stuffing his mouth with meat to stare at Torao.

He was pacing all over the room in the Shogun’s castle that Momo let Luffy use while he recovered, his hair dishevelled from how he had been running his hands through it in frustration. He wasn’t looking at Luffy, only muttering something to himself about ‘reckless morons who never stop to think’.

“What did I do?!” Luffy asked, instead of doing something stupid like laughing. The sight that Law’s stress made might have been very funny, but Luffy also didn’t have a death wish.

Law clicked his tongue, his head snapping up to glare at Luffy. “Take a fucking guess,” he hissed angrilly.

Tilting his head to the side, Luffy thought hard about what might have caused Law to act like this but he was drawing a blank. “You wanted to eat this meat?” Luffy tried, offering him the half-eaten drumstick in his hand.

“No. Try again.”

Luffy studied Law’s face, taking note of how Law’s eyes flickered away from Luffy’s face to dart all over Luffy’s body—over his injuries—and suddenly, Luffy understood. And he couldn’t keep the warm, happy smile off his face as much as he tried. “Torao~” he sang easily.

That only earned him another glare and he had to bite on his lower lip to stop himself from giggling as he shook his head. Torao could be so cute sometimes.

“Torao, I’m fine,” Luffy said, trying to sound reassuring but he wasn’t sure how good a job he was doing with the way his voice shook. He was just so happy his Torao was so worried; it made him feel all warm and fuzzy in ways he didn’t bother deciphering. He simply basked in the feelings, and in the pissed off, adorable look on Law’s face.

“You died,” Law said flatly.

“Did not!” Luffy cried in his defence.

Clicking his tongue again, Torao sighed deeply. “You’re impossible.”

Unable to keep it in any longer, Luffy snickered—while ignoring the frustrated noise Law let out in response. Discarding his meat on the provided plate, Luffy quickly wiped his hands before he turned back to Law and stretched out one of his arms to grab Law’s elbow, forcing him to come closer to where Luffy was sitting on his futon.

Surprisingly, Law didn’t protest; he let Luffy drag him over to himself, only turning his eyes away so that he wasn’t looking at him. Embarrassed, and unwilling to show it, and Luffy grinned.

So damn cute.

Letting go of Law’s elbow, Luffy let his fingers slide down Law's arm until he found his hand, taking it in his own. Slowly, he brought Law’s hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the inside of his wrist—right at the edge of his soulmark—before lacing their fingers together.

“Torao, I love you,” he said in a teasing voice, making Law freeze.

He didn’t say anything for a long while, only standing there completely tense… until he clicked his tongue and finally deflated. Luffy wasn’t surprised when a moment later, Law flicked his forehead—armament haki and all—before he heaved a sigh and replied, “Don’t I-love-you me in this situation.”

“But it’s working!” Luffy said cheekily, sticking out his tongue.

Law narrowed his eyes. “How about I cut your dick off and toss it into the hole with Kaido. It’s not like you’re using it anyway.”

“You wouldn’t!!” Luffy gasped.

“Fucking try me,” Law growled back and Luffy gulped.

Maybe he shouldn’t be pushing Torao much further… Oh well!

“I’ll still love you though,” Luffy said defiantly, squeezing Law’s hand for good measure.

Law didn’t say anything to that… but when he squeezed Luffy’s hand back, that was all the answer Luffy needed.

[clatterbane]

I am feeling greatly vindicated about now, in a way that I am very aware is probably verging on bitchiness on this end too. But, some people just affect me that way.

What do we have here, through the portal? Starting cortisol levels toward the lower end of normal for that time of day. And also well within the normal range? The cortisol-stimulating hormone which is what goes screwy and gets overproduced to make your adrenal glands pump out too much cortisol, if the problem is on the pituitary end.

The point of this overzealous testing?

The dexamethasone suppression test is used to diagnose endogenous Cushing syndrome by assessing the lack of suppression of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis in response to exogenous corticosteroids.[1] The first use of dexamethasone for diagnosing Cushing syndrome was in 1960 by Liddle; he developed a test based on the non-suppressibility of endogenous cortisol production in Cushing syndrome versus the physiological suppression in nonaffected individuals achieved by dexamethasone.[2]

So yeah, if you give someone even a single dose of dexamethasone (never mind the sledgehammer 8-dose multiday protocol they hit my endocrine system with!), their body should cut way back on its own cortisol production to compensate. If the regulating mechanism is borked, it will just keep pumping out the ACTH and then a bunch of cortisol anyway.

What happened in this case?

Whoosh!

Straight down within the expected time frame, from totally fine levels starting out. The usual low single-dose test would have more than done it, without fucking my blood sugar up or giving me its own version of the Prednisone Crazies to anywhere near the same extent. They are apparently looking for at least a 50% reduction in levels, and we have more than met that goal!

(Yeah, they are close enough drugs to have similar effects. I've unfortunately had to take courses of prednisone multiple times, mostly for particularly nasty allergic skin reactions. But dexamethasone is stronger stuff and the effects apparently last longer. 👿 I am very relieved to be done taking the shit as of like 6:30 this morning. Probably a few more days of lingering fun to look forward to.)

It was a dramatic enough drop during that first day, that the nurse actually went ahead and reassured us this morning that things were obviously perfectly fine there when I went in for the second steroided-up blood draw.

Gotta say the lab was quick! They drew the samples just before 8:30 again today, and the results were up on the portal when I logged in somewhere around noon. That clinic is right in the university medical center complex, but still.

They took so much blood the first time because the endo also decided to throw in All The Tests while she was at it. Including a bunch of the diabetes-standard ones that she already ordered before the recent routine check-in appointment where she sprung this xenophobic concern-trolling bullshit on me in the first place. Also got expanded kidney and liver panels, what seemed like every other major hormone in my body checked, and a whole new battery of tests prompted by the chronic anemia. A lot of those repeats of what primary care just recently ordered (and she could see the results of) after she kicked that over to their side. At least it was just two tubes for the cortisol and ACTH today.

But yeah, at least nothing out of that huge battery of tests came back looking weird in unexpected ways! I am still slightly anemic, my sodium and potassium levels are still running just barely under range, and a couple of kidney indicators are still looking borderline wonky in a very diabetic way.

(Which seems to be staying pretty stable for years now, not even far off enough that anyone has seemed to feel like it's needed treatment--and it's frankly a miracle that my renal function isn't way more thrashed than that, after the number of years of earlier negligence and uncontrolled blood sugar. Ruined kidneys was honestly one of my big nagging worries while all of that was still going on.)

Anyway, one thing I WAS actually glad and somewhat relieved to see while scrolling through that huge mess of reports:

Because it was primarily a pituitary prolactinoma that I got removed back in high school. And especially with the healthcare mess back in the US? I am not aware of that ever having been checked again within the past 30 years. My family ended up uninsured within a year or two of the surgery, and the last follow-up probably happened in 1992-93. The symptoms thankfully did go away over time--along with the freaking cortisol side bonus staying distant history!

(None of which was the endo aware of when she decided I looked weird enough to constitute a medical problem, I just can't restrain myself from emphasizing again.)

The little fuckers do have a distressing tendency to come back sometimes. But yeah, BTDT and I am pretty confident that I would have noticed if that were causing problems. But, I am still glad for the confirmation that my prolactin levels are fine now.

This whole thing was, indeed, uncalled for. And I am still perversely gratified to be proven right about this, when it's been taking up so much rent-free space in my head. (Thanks, PTSD!) And also to see that I am honestly looking healthier across a whole slew of bloodwork measures than I was half-afraid I might.

[turnipshepard]

So, as far as I can tell, I do think the Zoloft is “working”. I got over a pretty bad hump of anxiety a few days ago and now I’m feeling a little run-down, which is one of those sensations that’s ambiguous and hard to distinguish from like, general burnout and just the natural ups and downs of being alive. But my gut is telling me it’s the new meds. I could totally be wrong, idk.

I did get my blood test results back and everything looks perfect which was kind of… disappointing. Like I was almost hoping to uncover a thyroid issue or a vitamin deficiency or something that might explain why I’ve been feeling off for awhile. Side note it was also my first time getting all my levels tested since going vegan some 5-6 years ago so my doctor added B12, iron, vitamin D etc tests. And all is normal, which is reassuring.

So at the moment my blood pressure is just a tad high, which I guess could be stress related. It doesn’t seem to concern my doctor at all, so all I can do is try to put it out of my head, focus on reducing my stress (as much as I’m reasonably able to) and living a healthy lifestyle in general.

[nei-ning]

I got my depression medicine today. SUPER TINY PILLS! :D I take one pill per day (10mg) for a week and then 2 pills, either at morning or evening. I took first one today during early afternoon to see what kind of side effects I get. If bad, I could go to hospital to seek help instantly.

About 30min after taking the pill, my vision came very very VERY slightly blurry (for a short moment) when looking for too far. Like if looking at painting's frame, the outer edge of the frame looked very mildly blurred. Nothing more. After that started to come this feeling that my eyes are very tired, wanting to go to sleep but otherwise, nothing! I am RELIEVED! I honestly feared the worst symptoms (getting urges to harm / kill myself, nausea, diarrhea, throwing up, bleeding, fainting, heartbeat issues etc etc etc.)

But if the pills only make me tired I AM HAPPY about that! I take that any day! And since they make me tired, I know to take them in the evening for now. I just hope they also help me to fall asleep and sleep better.

Doctor also wants me to go to full blood test after a month (which is fine by me) and she will call me after 3 weeks to ask how I am doing with the medicine. After that I've no idea what's going to happen. Will I keep eating the pills for 6 weeks in total and then slowly start to drop them out or will I keep eating them the rest of my life? I hope not.

After all, I've been feeling so good this week (sleep issues still remain). I haven't taken my anxiety pill since Monday evening either since I haven't been needing them. I have been laughing, feeling happy and joyful, I've been able to do small tasks daily etc. even with these mild anxiety attacks (which I try to suffocate instantly when they rise). But I think one reason is the following which I have start to do since Tuesday: - I greet myself every morning via mirror (Good Morning, Beautiful) - I sing a mantra for 15-30 minutes - I do little exercises. Many different tiny moves for 15 min max. - I have given myself a little task each day: Do laundry, wash one cup, take out garbage, stretch your legs, spoil yourself with a feet bath etc. Something simple and small which makes me happy! - Meditate 15-30min before going to bed - In bed I listen either more calming / relaxing music or guided sleep meditation.

I also got text message from therapist. She asked me to fill this online application (which I did) and then call her so that she can check it and we can talk. I tried to call her twice today but she didn't pick up. I will try to call her on Monday. If she won't pick up, then I send her a text, asking her to call me back. I'm quite excited to be able to talk with her about all the things in my life :)

Also! When I went to get the pills from pharmacy, older lady worker spoke a long time with me. I told her about my symptoms, about my periods etc. She looked at me, bend towards me and said: "You know, all your symptoms sounds like they also could be result of the lack of iron in your body."

I was stunned so she continued. She told me that iron is the most important thing in woman's body and pretty much everything in our body depends on iron! She added: "I have experienced it all myself. But you also know what? When a woman is pregnant, she should eat iron so that the baby would get iron too. If the mother won't eat iron during the pregnancy, her baby won't get much iron either. No matter how much iron this baby would eat as an adult, it will never go to normal / high level. You never catch that normal level of iron."

That makes SO MUCH SENSE! I'm 100% sure mom ate badly (still does) when she was expecting my sis, me and my little brother. No wonder we all are "zombies" more or less.

I'm not saying getting and taking iron supplies won't help, since they do at least some, but the iron level won't get as high as it naturally should be if the mother ate iron during pregnancy.

[clarinet-sticks]

I have to rant. Pls bare with me or ignore me idc. TW: Miscarriage & shitty bosses (I tried to tag what I thought might need to be tagged, so sorry if I missed something.)

My boss SUCKED. She was the first person I called and told I was pregnant & how I’d be on closer watch with the OB due to my miscarriage earlier this year. She said that was totally fine and to just keep her in the loop.

Only a few days into the school year I started spotting, which is obviously scary since I experienced that before my loss. I got into the OB immediately and started being seen weekly for blood tests and ultrasounds. I tried to ask off ahead of time if I knew I had an appointment, but a few times I had to leave in the middle of the day and come back, which she was fine with.

One day I went in and had only taken the morning off. I was stuck in the office waiting for hours so I texted letting my boss know I wouldn’t be back. I brought her my doctors note which simply started I was seen at 10:45 (which is usually all the office gives you when you ask for a work note).

I was also put on restrictions so my baby and I would be safe at work. I was not allowed to lift 25 pounds or more. She came up to me in the hallway demanding I have paperwork proving that, otherwise she and the district wouldn’t recognize my restrictions and would make me work like normal. I called the office and asked for something to be sent in writing for work, and they complied, sending it to my hospital app. I screenshotted it and emailed it to my boss. I then went to her office to confirm she received it and she said “yep, that should be all I need, thanks!” Then she read the note and says “do we even have any kids that heavy?” YES??? The average 3-4 year old is at the smallest 35 pounds.

About a week goes by, then I wake up and get around for work. I go pee right before leaving and suddenly there’s a LOT more spotting. I’m panicked, I call my boss to let her know I won’t be in and I’ll be calling my OB when they open. She doesn’t answer, so I text her. She responds with “I will not be able to find a sub with 16 minute notice. We will be short handed.” Ok? I’m in crisis mode right now and you’re expecting me to feel bad that I had to contact you last minute?? THEN she sends another long ass message saying she needs a note proving I was seen, it could NOT be an email on my phone, and it had better say I wasn’t allowed to return to work that day… because she let it slide last time my note only stated the time of my appointment, but I should’ve returned to work if I was able.

I was seeing red. I was shaking I was so mad. I called my husband and told him what happened and he immediately said to quit. It was bullshit. She knows my situation. She knows I’m panicked over every little issue because I lost one before. But instead of being empathetic and understanding, she throws it in my face that the classroom will be down a teacher and scolds me for my notes not being adequate? Despite her literally saying they were fine before?

I just texted back “ok, then consider this my resignation. I don’t appreciate how I’m being talked to or how this situation has been handled.” To which she replied “ok thanks for letting me know” if she was SO worried about being short handed, I’d think she’d care a bit more that I left the position entirely! She clearly didn’t like me for whatever reason despite me doing everything she asked whenever she asked.

She also turned around and posted my job online within like an hour and had all the other staff share it. I have a feeling she told them all I’m this horrible person for quitting on the spot, but they don’t know what really happened.

I submitted my official resignation to the district before she could even text again saying “I think the district will need a written paper. An email is fine” AN EMAIL IS FINE NOW??? God I’m still seething but I’m so glad I left. Everyone else there was so kind and understanding of my situation, but my main boss wasn’t and I don’t need that extra stress right now.

The good news is, I got an ultrasound done today & my baby is still looking fine! And my now former coworkers still checked in on me and asked me to keep them updated. I hope that administrator retires the moment she can in a year or two and I can take my job back without worrying about being stabbed in the back during a stressful time.