#all of them in mid fighting poses too...

[explodingquails]

MAJOR Hades 2 spoilers under the cut!

I am so unwell about this... the way their bodies are arranged in a circle made me think they were cornered and making a last stand back-to-back when Chronos got them.

Also the fact that Nyx was frozen away from the rest implies either: 1) Chronos attacked her first to get her out of the picture; 2) She was the last one left and faced Chronos in the hallway leading to Hades' room to buy Melinoë and Hekate time to escape

In case the pic is too low quality those are the Chronos victims clockwise from the top: Achilles, Zagreus, Megaera, Dusa, Persephone, Thanatos :((

[everrinsly]

a/n; somehow, i always imagine the boys being very flirty as they grow up hahah

a momager and her silly olympic team vibes.

the weirdo quick and the real mvp. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

~~~~~

Even though the boys were all grown (late twenties now, by the way), you were absolutely appalled at how they still bickered like children mid-match. At the Olympics of all major events—

“Oi! Kageyama! Stop setting like you're mad at me or something!” Hinata snapped, slapping the ball down with a little too much force... right into the net.

On the other side of the court, France's setter stifled a laugh that was immediately shot down by Suna—still holding his signature pose, arms raised, hands in front of his face. His green eyes were narrowed, glinting with a lethal glare.

Kageyama scowled. “I’m not mad! You’re the one who’s late to the spike!"

“You’re the one who keeps shifting your timing!”

“Maybe because your fucking brain’s five steps behind your feet—!”

"Or maybe it's you that can't fucking count—!"

"I was calculating optimal trajectory—"

"Optimal trajectory my ass!"

"You fucking trained on sand—and you're still shitty—"

"WHA—the fuck did you just say?!"

Atsumu sucked his teeth on the sidelines. “Well, shit... here we go again.”

Komori leaned over from his libero crouch and whispered to Sakusa in the back row. “Three guesses who’s gonna fix it.”

Bokuto perked up, hands on his hips, watching the freak duo fight (just like he and Kuroo used to do back in high school). “Wait for it…”

From the bench, Iwaizumi had given up. Clipboard on the the floor. Coach was nearly hiding away in shame, muttering something to the assistant coach. Probably (most definitely) adding in an extra training schedule.

The referee on the court had already dropped the whistle from his lips, sighing like he can't be bothered because Team Japan was the root cause of all his problems.

And the jumbotrons?

The jumbotrons caught everything. The camera crew were having the time of their lives, recording the meltdown of Team Japan.

—So that’s when you stood up from your seat near the bench, clipboard in hand, eyes soft and kind.

As you jogged onto the court during a much-needed timeout call, Sakusa muttered under his breath, “And there she goes. The real MVP comes to the rescue.”

“Bet three curry buns she fixes it in less than twenty seconds,” Iwaizumi said, arms crossed, clearly already counting down.

When you reached Hinata and Kageyama, you gently pressed a hand on each of their shoulders. Slightly damp with sweat, but you didn't care. Not when you've took care of them since high school, at their very worst to their very best.

“Hey,” you voiced, all warm and calm. “What’s going on?”

Hinata looked down at you and pouted. Literally pouted. “He’s not syncing with me.”

Kageyama huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m syncing. He’s just zigzagging like a squirrel... on fucking caffeine.”

You fought a laugh. “Okay, but think about how far you’ve come. You two read each other like a book now, right? You’ve done this dance a hundred times. You’ve already got the rhythm—you just need to trust each other again.”

Their gazes softened slightly.

You smiled, giving Hinata a playful nudge. "Remember? You used to hit Kageyama's sets with your eyes closed, Sunshine."

You turned slightly to face Kageyama and patted his chest. "And you... make sure you imagine the spiker. Not just send it high and far, okay?

You leaned up to wipe some beads of sweat off each of their foreheads with your sleeve.

“Besides,” you added, “I kind of love when you pull that sneaky slide attack, so don’t make me sad, okay?”

Hinata smirked, a cute little tilt of his lips. "I can do that, sweets!”

Kageyama adjusted his uniform collar and ran a hand through his hair, grumbling, “Fine fine. I’ll fix my toss for your slide... you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Hmm... like what?” you asked innocently.

“Like that,” he murmured.

But before you could even respond, he stomped back to the net.

(They were just as adorable now as they were back in high school).

As you trotted off the court, Suna was staring at you with a deadpan look. “Must be nice having a buffoonish-ass love language.”

You giggled softly, teasing. "Wouldn't call it buffoonish if it works, Rin. Are you just jealous?"

“Hm. Maybe,” he hummed.

Atsumu let out an exaggerated groan. “Can we get a team-wide policy? No cute manager pep talks unless we all get one.”

“You want me to pat your head too, 'Tsumu?” you said sweetly, grabbing a towel and handing it to Ushijima.

Atsumu opened his mouth, then paused, a flirty smile adorning his lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no, sweetheart.”

Bokuto leaned over, buffing his chest out. “Can you pat me like how you patted Kageyama?”

“You smiled at Hinata like he invented the sun,” Sakusa added with a small scowl.

Ushijima blinked. “It was motivational. Very effective.”

“Uh-huh, damn miracle worker,” Iwaizumi muttered from behind you, voice low. "An how about you all stop crowding her now. You've still got a game to play."

Your face heated, and suddenly the entire bench was smirking.

Except for Komori, who cheerfully handed you his water bottle. “You handled that really well.”

You gave him a grateful smile, laughing softly. “Thanks, 'Toya... finally someone who's a little more gown-up than the rest of you all.”

And then, Suna appeared from behind, lips brushing close to your ear as he whispered, “For the record, if you ever wanna motivate me like that, I promise ten kill blocks every set.”

“Same,” Atsumu grinned.

"You're a setter, dumbass."

"I CAN BLOCK—"

"Nah, your timing's shit��even if I count for you."

"Oh fuck you—"

“Me too, by the way!” Hinata shouted from the court, already back in position and totally recovered. “I’d fail just to get my sweat wiped with your sleeve again!”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warm but heart fluttering.

“How about you all just get back out there and win,” you called, voice firm but fond.

They chorused a 'yes'—some louder, some flirter, some absolutely pretending they weren’t jealous as hell.

And as the whistle blew again and the ball flew up, Kageyama and Hinata moved in perfect sync, slamming down the point so fast it shut the opposing blockers down cold.

“Told you. Real MVP.”

[kxsagi]

Hiii, how are you? 💘 Can I request Blue Lock boys (Nagi, Reo, Rin and idk more 😭) with a girlfriend who collects Calico Critters?

“𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬”

a/n: CALICO CRITTERS WAS MY CHILDHOOD I HAD THE ADVENTURE TREEHOUSE ONE

also hiii i'm good! i hope you are, too! thank you for being so patient with me love ❤️

ft. nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki

nagi seishiro

at first, he’s confused. "why do they all have tiny furniture? do they fight with it?" 

you once caught him making two of the bunnies “duel” with forks. it was… oddly cinematic. 

secretly obsessed. he pretends he doesn’t care but you’ll find your calico bear moved slightly, like someone posed it to sit on a couch and watch TV. 

"can i touch this one?" he points at a squirrel with a pink dress. if you say yes, he cradles it like a newborn baby and doesn’t give it back for three days. 

he tries to nap in your room but always ends up staring at the tiny dollhouse setups. "this is so detailed… what the heck. you built a bakery? why's it better than mine in animal crossing..." 

mikage reo

he buys you limited edition calico critter sets the second they drop. like he’s faster than collectors with bots. 

"this one's from a store in france. overnight shipping. look, the hedgehogs have a piano." 

thinks it's so hot that you're good at decorating miniature rooms. like. he brags about it. “my girlfriend has better interior taste than yours and her clients are all two inches tall.” 

helps you reorganize your collection on lazy sundays. he’s good at holding tiny chairs between his fingers like it’s normal. 

absolutely tries to use calico critters to flirt. sets up a little proposal scene and goes, “look. it’s us. except i’m three inches tall and cuter.” 

itoshi rin

doesn't get it. doesn’t want to get it. but respects it because it makes you happy. 

"... how do you keep track of their names?" and when you answer with 20 generations of backstory he blinks twice and decides not to ask again. 

that being said… the miniatures start growing on him. he lowkey thinks the fox family is cool and once helped you repaint a table. 

"this is a hobby that requires patience. i like that." tries to say it casually but you catch the way he watches you glue down a tiny carpet. 

his love language is building the IKEA-sized critter furniture you order off etsy. he acts grumpy the whole time but hands you the final result like it’s a love letter. 

isagi yoichi

SO supportive. he smiles like a golden retriever every time you show him a new family set. 

“you gave them a garden?! babe that’s so sick!” he crouches down to inspect the tiny vegetables like a proud dad. 

helps you organize your display shelf and keeps suggesting ideas like “what if there was a soccer stadium?” 

actually starts getting into it and names a mouse after himself. “this is lil yoichi. he owns a ramen shop and gives advice to travelers.” 

100% takes photos of your setups and shows them to his teammates like they're his own children. “look what she made. look at the bakery. no, really, zoom in.” 

bachira meguru

FERAL. he thinks the calico critters are alive. like he’s convinced they move at night. 

"this one’s the evil one," he whispers, pointing at the cat with a crooked ear. “she’s plotting something. i can feel it.” 

customizes them with you. paints tattoos on the bears. gives the raccoons glow-in-the-dark eyes. adds googly eyes to the furniture when you’re not looking. 

creates wild stories for them. like you’ll walk in and he’s mid-monologue: “and then gregory, the frog with a criminal past, was like ‘not on my watch.’” 

despite the chaos, he’s extremely gentle with your collection. tucks them in at night. kisses the tiny blanket. calls them your "fuzzy little citizens." 

itoshi sae

he walks in. pauses. "... what are these little dudes?" 

squats down and just stares at your display shelf for a good two minutes like he’s trying to process a different dimension. 

“so you collect them? like… all of them? is there… a calico stock market or something?” 

despite the teasing, he finds it oddly charming. asks a million questions while pretending not to care. "do they have a vet? what’s his name. no reason. just curious." 

secretly buys you a rare calico critter set during a trip abroad and plays it off like it was no big deal. “here. it was on sale or something.” (it was not.) 

kaiser michael

calls them "fluff goblins" the first time he sees them. holds one like it’s going to bite him. 

"this one’s judging me. look at its beady little eyes. it knows too much." 

but he instantly gets competitive. “what do you mean there's a limited edition royal set? why don’t we own it? what kind of empire are we running?” 

makes a whole mafia storyline with them. the bunnies run an underground casino. the dogs are corrupt cops. he’s spiraling. 

pretends to hate them but sets up elaborate scenes when you’re not around. “that’s the critter CEO. he just embezzled $3 million from the bank of rabbit.” 

karasu tabito

you show him your collection and he leans in like: "yo. why is this kind of sick?" 

calls them your “little tax-paying civilians.” watches you build a cafe setup like it’s a netflix episode. 

“this the mouse family? they look rich. can i give them a scandal?” proceeds to create drama that rivals actual soap operas. 

absolutely buys tiny props from the dollar store and says “for the homies” while handing you a plastic teapot. 

draws fake little mugshots for your squirrel triplets. “they got caught shoplifting. trial’s on friday.” 

alexis ness

gasps out loud the first time she sees them. hand over mouth. sparkles in her eyes. 

“oh my goodness… they’re dressed so well. is this a gala theme? is this the mayor’s daughter? you have to introduce me.” 

helps you color-coordinate their outfits like she’s styling a met gala red carpet. "no no, the bunny in lavender sits at the head of the table." 

smiles sweetly while hiding the fact she reorganized your ENTIRE shelf. she even gave them a seating chart. 

makes personalized backstories for each critter like it’s the sims. full names, hobbies, zodiac signs, and love interests included. 

niko ikki

tries to act normal about it. fails immediately. 

“uhhh wow… that’s so many of them. do they live here full-time or…?”  

ends up picking a fox family and getting way too attached. carries the baby fox around in his hoodie pocket for emotional support. 

helps you set up shelves and is super careful not to bump anything. treats your collection like a sacred museum exhibit. 

starts talking to them like they're real. “hey guys. hope you slept well. i brought your owner a snack. please don't bite me.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[ducky-women]

Bargaining

(Alexia Putellas x Child!R)

Summary: Alexia makes a shocking discovery and Sunny's first treatments

TW: child sickness mentioned

Masterlist

....

Alexia sighs as she, her sister and her daughter enter her house, they just came after getting a fourth opinion about your situation and the news were not good, this oncologist had the same opinion as the previous three, you had no other option than to get treatment and hope that it would win out the cancer

“Alba are you staying for lunch?” Alexia asks her younger sister while closing the door to the house while planning what she could do to eat from what she remembers to be on the cupboard

“Olga?” her sister’s voice and tone makes her turn around to see her girlfriend and some of her friends with a lot of bags in their arms looking like children that just got caught with their hands in the cookie jar, freezing mid-step

“Amor what’s this?” she wishes her voice would sound stronger than how it came out, it did soft, weak and above all confused, her brain was going overdrive in trying to figure out what they just walked into, better yet what they interrupted

“Alexia you said you’d come back in 5 hours” Olga’s nervous voice echoed through the deathly silence in the room, Alexia looks at the bags and then looks at her girlfriend trying to piece together what was happening, she had an idea but she wished that it wasn’t what she was thinking

“The appointment ended sooner than I had thought it would, now tell me what the hell is going on” she steals her voice better 

“Alexia let’s not do this please” Olga begs, her voice soft and pleading, looking at her with sad eyes and somehow looking smaller than she was

“Alba take sunny to her bedroom please” she tells her sister, passing her asleep daughter to her, Alba does as asked with nervous eyes darting across the sides that had formed in the living room, Alexia does not speak until she hears the sound of her daughter's bedroom door indicating that it is closed

“Olga explain” her voice finally comes out strong and confident and while her eyes soften a little when she watches her girlfriend’s slouched pose she remains firm in her questioning

“I’m leaving Alexia” Olga says softly and nervous while starting to fidget with her hands while her friends look elsewhere trying to make themselves invisible not wanting to get caught up in whatever was about to happen

“What” Alexia’s voice cuts through the deafening silence, she swears she felt her heart stop a little before it started to go crazy 

“I…I can’t stay” Olga stammers and even if she looks ashamed of herself by her own confession she seems confident enough to want to go through it 

“What the hell are you talking about? Why?” Alexia is in disbelief, just a week ago they had received the news that their daughter didn’t have much time left to live and now Olga wants to leave

“I can’t do this Alexia” Olga pleads with her eyes watering a little, this seems to be breaking her as much as it’s breaking Alexia

“Okay, let's say you go through that door, what am I supposed to say to OUR daughter huh, how can you just leave, you carried her in your body, she grew up in your womb, how can you even think of leaving” Alexia expresses while trying to keep her anger at bay, she doesn’t want you to hear of what was about to happen

“BECAUSE I CAN’T WATCH HER DIE ALEXIA, THAT’S WHY” Olga’s resolve breaks and she starts shouting while her tears start to drop “she grew inside my body Ale…I felt her grow…I felt her kick for the first time” Olga says while pointing to herself with her hand “and that’s exactly why I’m leaving…I’m sorry if this is disappoint to you but…I just can’t watch her slip away while I have to stand by and do nothing” both of them were actively crying and Olga’s hands were even trembling while she holds her stomach 

"She's not dying" Alexia says with conviction trying to convince her to stay and fight with them

“Ale if I don’t leave…this is going to kill me too” Olga says while whipping her tears away, she tears her eyes away from Alexia and takes the handle of her suitcase and starts to walk towards the door, her friends follow silently behind her, the only thing between her and the door was Alexia

“You think this is easy for me” Alexia says trying with all her might to not shout, shouting wasn’t going to get her anywhere “she’s as much as my daughter as she is yours, you don’t think I also want to run far away and never look back?” she voices her intrusive thoughts that haven’t let her sleep for the past week “but then I look at her and she smiles at me and I know that I can’t because maybe she is going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it, but she is also going to have me by her side, she will die knowing that she is loved, that her mami didn’t just give up on her” Alexia whispers 

“We both know that you have always been stronger than me” Olga whispers back while whipping her tears away “I just…I don’t want to watch her waste away Ale, I wouldn’t be able to stand it”

“What do I say to Sunny when she asks about where her mama is” Alexia whispers and she feels her hands tremble so she opts to shove them into her sweats pockets, this was breaking her heart but she also knows that she can’t force Olga to stay

“I wrote a letter, so if you can read it to her please” Olga says while passing the paper to Alexia and she accepts it with trembling hands while she steps aside and locks her gaze into the ground “I’m really sorry Ale” Olga whispers before she walks towards the door

Alexia goes kind of numb, she stands there for what could've been seconds or even minutes, she doesn’t even register the door closing that signals that her girlfriend left permanently, she just stands there, but then she snaps out of it as she remembers you, her beautiful daughter, her baby that doesn’t understands what’s happening no matter how many times Alexia has tried to explain it

But she knows one thing, and it is that she can’t crumble now, she will need to be strong for herself and for you, she will be strong for you, she has to

The walk towards your bedroom feels endless until she’s face to face with your door, she sucks in a breath, steals herself and turns the handle to open the door

“Ale, I’m sorry” Alba says while she stands up from your bed and goes towards her but Alexia ignores her and goes towards you, you who are asleep, blissfully unaware that your mama had just left and that Alexia is your only parent from now on until you draw your last breath 

She gets in the bed and gathers you close towards her body, cradling you as if you were a newborn

“Everything is going to be okay Sunny” Alexia whispers “You will always have me, I promise” she kisses your head before closing her eyes and simply enjoy the moment while she still can, because she doesn’t know when she will no longer be able to hold you

....

“Mami will it hurt?” Alexia looks down towards her daughter who was looking up at her with curious eyes, Alexia has to try and not let the lump in her throat change her voice

“Maybe in the beginning, but only a little” She says in the best voice she can manage giving the circumstances while trying to give her daughter the best smile she can muster

“Okay” her daughter accepts her answer and goes back into cuddling her while they wait for her name to be called “I be brave like you” she has to bite back the tears that want to spill from her eyes so she just hugs her daughter tighter while praying that everything is alright and goes as planned

“Putellas” A nurse calls out a little later while walking towards the waiting room with a clipboard and a friendly smile

“That’s us sunny” Alexia whispers while letting her daughter down first and then getting up herself, she can feel a little hand immediately hatching towards hers and she only holds it tighter while they walk towards the nurse

“Come with me” Alexia and Sunny walk the halls towards the room that they’ll be seeing for a long time, the room is painted in a soft blue colour while having drawings of animals all over the walls, there are also the numerous chairs designed for the treatment and Alexia can see a lot of them being already occupied by other children with their parents while some others have privacy curtains drawn around them

Alexia can see her future right into that room, tired parents fighting along their child, the child suffering from the effects of the treatment and a lump forces its way into her throat

They are directed towards a free chair and told to leave her things into the side table while the nurse prepares the necessities

“Here is a gown for her to change into for the treatment” the nurse tells Alexia while giving her the gown so Alexia puts it on the chair “over there is changing room or I can draw the privacy curtains” Alexia nods to the latter option so the nurse does “I will just go and gather some stuff” when the nurse goes out Alexia looks at her daughter who is touching the fabric of the gown

“It has Bluey mami” Her daughter looks so excited about that and she can only force a smile

“They must have known you like her very much” Alexia says softly while caressing her daughters face “Come on let’s get you into it” it seems that the gown swallows her daughter whole “I love you sunny” it slips from her lips before she can stop it and her daughters just looks at her and cooks her head to the side with a smile

“Love you too mami” she feels her daughters arms curl around her legs while looking up at her with a toothy smile and she finds herself caressing her face softly

“Ok we are ready it seems” the nurse enters again with a box full of supplies that she leaves at a table while another nurse wheels in some equipment “Okay so mami can lie down and you little miss can lay with her” they do and Alexia positions her daughter how she was explained for the access

“Okay honey you’ll feel a light pinch and that’s it alright” Sunny nods towards the nurse “You can hold mami’s hand” Alexia makes sure her daughter does and then she feels the grip becoming tighter, she doesn’t say anything she just holds tighter until the nurse says so “Ok, the treatment is in, nothing should be going wrong, I’ll be back later in some time to check up on you” the nurse smiles at them before going out

“How are you feeling Sunny” Alexia asks her daughter some time later while caressing her back stopping just before she feels the gauze surrounding the place where the IV took place

“It feels weird mami” Alexia frowns at her daughters tired voice

“It doesn’t hurt right?” Alexia asks worried pulling a more comfortable position for her daughter to be in while being careful of the tubes around her body

“No mami, I tired” Sunny says while yawning

“It’s ok baby, you can sleep, I’ll be here the whole time” Alexia kisses Sunny’s head while her daughter just nods tired on her chest

Alexia doesn’t even know how to feel, she’s just incredibly overwhelmed right now but she’s sure of one thing, she’ll pass trough every treatment, every doctor’s visit just for her daughter to be alright, she just prays this works, it has to work

….

“Mami” Alexia turns around at the call and feels her heart plummet to her feet, in the kitchen’s doorway is her daughter who is holding some hair strands in her hand with a frown appearing on her face while confusion swims in her eyes

“Hey baby” she makes sure to keep her voice soft while kneeling in front of her kid, her kid who is already suffering collateral damage from her illness “we talked about this honey remember?” she makes sure to keep her voice soft while caressing her daughters face with a soft hand “Remember that doctor Garcia said that your hair may start falling out from the treatment”

“Can we cut it all away?” after a few seconds of silence Sunny finally whispers those words and Alexia feels sick

“We can baby” despite the pain soaring trough her heart she still smiles at her daughter, she doesn’t know why this is being so hard, she knew that her kid was going to start losing hair and that they would have to cut it at some point, it’s just, she wasn’t really ready for it to happen “Come on” she takes her daughters hand and they both walk towards the bathroom

There Alexia uses a stool and makes her daughter sit on it while grabbing a towel wrapping it around her daughter’s frame, she reaches towards the sink and grabs some scissors and the shaving machine that her sister bought some years ago

“Okay are we ready” she makes sure to keep her voice steady and not let her emotions out in the open, she watches as her daughter takes a deep breath while closing her eyes

“Ready mami” still her daughter keeps her eyes closed and Alexia can’t tell her to open them so she just grabs the scissors and with a steady hand she makes a ponytail with her hand while the other cuts it away

Strands of brown hair fall down to the ground just as her heart is breaking just some more, she takes a deep breath before turning the shaving machine on, and after a deep breath she brings the machine towards her daughter’s head and slowly and carefully starts shaving her hair away

With every place that starts going hairless Alexia feels her heart shatter more and more while tears slowly escape her eyes and form silent rivers of pain down her cheeks

“Ok Sunny, it’s all done” she says after a while having finished off for some time but still needing a couple of minutes pulling herself together

Slowly Sunny starts opening her eyes and when she finally does she takes a couple of seconds to examine her new look and then she looks towards the floor where her hair lays, tears start to build up in her eyes and her bottom lip starts to tremble at the sigh, she loved her hair, she was always up for trying new hairstyles but now it was all gone

“It’s okay baby” Alexia whispers softly while getting closer and hugging her daughter from behind “You still look perfect in my eyes” she says it with conviction

“Really mami?” Sunny asks with a trembling voice while one of her hands slowly creeps up towards her hair but falters just as she’s about to touch it

“Really baby, hair or no hair, you’re still perfect” Alexia uses one of her hands to slowly guide Sunny’s hand through her new hairstyle

“Feels weird” Sunny laughs a little when the little spikes of hair tickle her hand

“Yeah it does” Alexia laughs too and after thinking it for a while she makes a choice “you know what sunny, your hairstyle is so beautiful that I want it too” Sunny looks at her shocked but Alexia has made her mind up, she would shave her head too “Would you help me?” she asks with a grin

“Yes mami”

Slowly Alexia gets Sunny up while taking a seat across the stool and then sitting Sunny on her lap, she gives Sunny the machine and grabs her hand in hers, she starts the machine and then brings both of their arms towards her hair and they slowly start to get rid of her hair too

After a little while they finish and now both of them had buzzcuts on their heads, strands of blonde now accompany the brown strands on the bathroom floor

“See, how do I look?” Alexia asks after they finish

“Still beautiful mami” Sunny says while passing her hand on Alexia’s head

“See, now we’re both perfect”

....

Author's note: A little bit longer than usual, hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for more

[demie90s]

Zumba Queen

MASTERLIST | MORE

UConn x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:During a chill team trip to the mall, reader mysteriously disappears—until Geno and the squad hear loud music coming from upstairs and find her leading a full-on Zumba class.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ:Crack fic, comedy, team chaos, reader is unserious

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:Swearing, secondhand embarrassment, Geno does a forced two-step

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~0.4k

ᴠɪʙᴇ: “Where’s Y/N?” “WOO! LET’S GO, MARY BETH!” She’s doing Zumba with retired gym teachers and they adore her. Geno’s traumatized. Reader is thriving.

We were supposed to be bonding. Team trip. Little group outing. Something chill—mall stroll, food court snacks, maybe matching hoodies if Nika felt cute enough.

But of course, I disappeared.

One second we were walking past the pretzel stand. Next thing you know, I was gone.

“Where’s Y/N?” Geno asked, looking around like I’d wandered off in a storm.

“Wasn’t she right behind us?” Azzi said.

“She said she was thirsty,” Caroline muttered. “I think she lied.”

Then—before anyone could even panic—someone screamed across the second floor.

“YEAH LET’S GO, BABY! SHOW ’EM MARY BETH!”

Everyone froze. Eyes slowly drifted toward the railing above the escalator. And there I was.

In the middle of a mall Zumba class. Surrounded by a dozen elderly women in pastel tracksuits and orthopedic sneakers. Leading like I was born to do it. Arms up, hips going, shouting things like “Y’ALL FEEL THAT HEAT?! WOO! ACTIVE BODY, ACTIVE MIND!” while “Let’s Get Loud” blasted from a Bluetooth speaker.

The seniors? Eating it up. Sweating. Smiling. Following my every move like I was Beyoncé and this was opening night.

The team? Horrified.

“I’m gonna pretend I don’t know her,” KK mumbled, phone already out to record.

“Why is she so good at that?” Ice asked, genuinely impressed.

“She’s so unserious,” Nika said.

Geno just pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re not bringing her next time.”

And me? I didn’t even notice them watching.

Too busy living my best life with Dolores, Ruth, and Mary Beth, screaming “VIBE CHECK!” while clapping above my head like I was on a Zumba world tour.

Geno stormed up to the railing like he was gonna fix something.

“Y/N!” he yelled, loud as hell. “Let’s go! What the hell is this?”

I whipped around mid-hip swivel, sweatband crooked, whole chest heaving like I just got done with a set in a championship game. I spotted him over the top of the speaker and lit up.

“COACH!” I hollered. “WE MOVING OUR BODIES FOR JOINT HEALTH! WOOO!”

The class cheered. Dolores fist-pumped. Geno blinked like he forgot how to process information.

Azzi leaned over the railing, half laughing, half mortified. “Coach, I think they love her.”

“They do,” Nika said, still filming. “They’d fight us to keep her.”

And they weren’t wrong.

Because when Geno actually started marching toward the group like he was gonna pull me mid-lunge, Mary Beth stepped forward. Little pink headband, purple tracksuit, arms out like a damn bodyguard.

“She’s our instructor,” she said. “Give us five more minutes.”

Geno looked at her, then looked at me.

I just clapped to the beat and yelled, “COME ON COACH, DO A LITTLE TWO STEP! SHOW ’EM WHAT YOU GOT!”

The entire circle of elders turned to him. Waiting. Expectant. Terrifying. And Geno? This grown man? This Hall of Fame coach? He did it.

One half-assed two-step. Shoulders stiff. Jaw clenched. Eyes dead.

KK collapsed against the railing.

“I’m crying,” she said. “I’m actually crying.”

Azzi covered her face. “We are never going to another mall again.”

But I? I was thriving. Sweatband on. Heart full. Surrounded by old ladies screaming “GO Y/N GO Y/N” as I hit a final pose with Mary Beth.

And when Geno finally dragged me out, all I said was:

“Y’all got next week without me. They already booked me for Thursdays.”

[bodyhopper-files]

"Spot me, daddy?"

Sweat dripped down my temples as I racked the barbell, my pecs—shit, my boobies—straining under the gym’s harsh lights. Then she slammed into me—a blonde bitch in a pink sports bra, her tits bouncing as she spilled her neon energy drink across my chest. “Whoopsie, big boy!” she squealed, her voice just begging for sex, fingers grazing my arm. A weird jolt shot through me, but I shrugged it off. Fucking ditzy slut, I thought, stomping to the showers.

Next morning, my reflection threw me. My jaw looked softer, eyes brighter, my skin looked all soft and shit. What the fuck? I growled, flexing my boobies—damn it, pecs—and pulling on a tight tee that clung too well. At the gym, my lifts felt off, sloppy. I kept catching my reflection, mesmerized by how my muscles gleamed, my ass popping in my shorts. Focus, idiot, I snapped, but I posed harder, as if I was craving the mirror’s approval.

The next day, I woke with my lips feeling heavy, swollen. In the mirror, they were plump, glossy—a perfect pair of dick-sucking lips, begging to be used. No fucking way, I thought, but I couldn’t stop puckering, imagining them wrapped around... shit, someone like Jake, the ripped new trainer with a cocky grin and abs that could cut glass. At the gym, my walk had a slutty sway, hips rolling. I ditched my chalky protein shake for a strawberry smoothie, sucking the straw like it was a job. In the locker room, I stared at the guys’ bulges, my hole tingling. This isn’t me, I told myself, but after my workout that day, I bought a glittery pink crop top that stretched so tight across my big boobies and showed off my slutty little waist.

By the weekend, I gave up fighting. When Jake’s eyes locked on me mid-set, I flashed a flirty grin, my voice high as I purred, “Spot me, daddy?” His hand grazed my ass, and I leaned into it, my smooth hole aching. Jake called me “pretty boy,” and I giggled like a slut, following him to the sauna. Steam swirled as I surrendered, my new lips wet and ready, my himbo self alive for every touch, every thrust.

[elanorpam]

it's been way too long since i last did wildly self-indulgent fanart, so of course i did it for an SVSSS AU that doesn't even have any actual fanfiction written of it yet. but what can i say! it's a compelling scenario! Just check the original post for details!

here's a workplace doodle for his mess of an outfit, too:

Xin Mo is floating behind his back, wrapped in talismans. the collars are meant to be vaguely inspired on a flower bud.

Some notes i came up with for this version, copied straight from a month-old discord convo:

he may have protagonist halo now, but he's for sure not a stallion protagonist. he literally exchanged fates with his favorite person in the world in order to spare them a hellish trial-- that's romantic as fuck!! damn!! this is old CLAMP shoujo and no mistake!!

binghe may no longer be the protag, but he's still a half-heavenly demon. power-wise, heavenly demons can't be topped, and all the remaining heavenly demons are accounted for. so, SQQ can't be a heavenly demon, even in part.

HOWEVER, as a protagonist, there's a factor more important than power! it's the CHUUNI FACTOR. what's more CHUUNI™️ than being part demon?

one option is being part demon and part angel.

how would that even fucking work??????? IDK man, you can either pull from chinese folklore for fairies or heavenly beings or spirits, or you can blame Airplane and go "he accidentally implied the existence of christian elements by means of importing unexamined anime tropes"

Shen Jiu conveniently has a big fat blank on his parentage. We as fans can and have put whatever the hell we wanted there.

SQQ would jump into the abyss still under the impression SJ was a shallow villain. If his trip through the abyss involves recovering SJ's memories somehow, that sure would be fun times, huh?

so he awakens a mysterious ancestry and survives the abyss and takes Xin Mo, but he probably takes longer than Binghe did due to being squishier.

but Xin Mo isn't ACTUALLY his! so he papers it over with sealing talismans, and to battle the temptation to wield it he takes to wearing these longass sleeves. they're probably covered in talismans as well.

guessing Xiu Ya stayed behind to be mooned over by the clown trio in Cang Qiong. let's go full sparkle-sue here and say he's now fighting almost entirely via musical cultivation. i like swan-necked konghou harps so let's go with that, it'll look dope.

why is he barefoot? why WOULDN'T he be, is the question. fragile!! suffering!! dainty!! he's a shrinking flower, tormented by the weight of the One Sword To Rule Them All!!

also for extra pathos, his constant mental struggle against Xin Mo means he can't spare energy to front. it takes constant focus! he's still a bit in his delusional shit, but even when he's going "oh no, binghe is only latched throat-deep onto my dick because he's a good boy who's concerned about me and the danger i could pose by losing control" he'd probably… well, he'd probably say that out loud to anyone who asked. he's in a half-trance, mentally battling the crazy-making sword. lying is too much work.

Wouldn’t resisting Xin Mo’s influence be the mental and spiritual equivalent to training under 400x gravity or something? his wife-beam is going to be off the charts when he puts it down.

also also: who the hell dressed him like that? fucking shang qinghua, of course, after SQQ showed up in the northern palace to punish MBJ for hurting binghe in the conference. did the system explain shit to SQH? on the one hand, extremely funny if it updates him on the role change out of nowhere mid-alliance. on the other hand, extremely funny if he only finds out because Binghe is crying safely in Qing Jing while the scum villain apparently jumped into the abyss.

Here's another link to the original AU post! I've had it open on a tab all this time just so i could point to it when I was done, so make sure to check it out!

[occamstfs]

Surfin' The Years Away

Wade reluctantly follows his boyfriend into a new thrift shop. After trying on some old surf shorts he is blasted into the past. With each passing moment and stray thought he's body and mind molded into the King of this mid-century beach.

What better time for a surfer TF than Winter huh? In season for any Aussie/Southern Hemisphere readers I might have haha! At any rate, Hope you enjoy this little time travel TF, got a cowboy TF coming next ;) Best ! -Occam

Wade and Dylan don’t know how they’ve somehow overlooked the vintage shop on Main Street until now. Wade’s more than happy to make a note of it and come back later, quite eager to get out of the cold. But when Dylan pulls on his sleeve and begs they check it out, “We’ll just be in and out babe-” the driver acquiesces with a grumble and turns into the small parking lot.

Before the engine’s off, Dylan hops out of the small car and sprints inside in search of some theoretical hidden gem. Wade sees his sigh in the icy air before he knew he released it. Longing for the end of the winter he trudges carefully along the icy sidewalk behind his happy-go-lucky boyfriend. 

The woman at the counter pages through some old magazine of vintage clothing while Dylan raids the racks. Wade eyes the cluttered store as he fights back a sneeze from the dusty shelves. Quite the eclectic shop, certainly not a store with a specific market in mind. What can only be leather fetish gear hangs on the walls next to some army surplus gear and in between are rack after rack of pastel skirts and oversized vintage suits.

He hears his boyfriend squeak in excitement as he pulls two things off their coat hangers. “Wade! Look~ Bell Bottoms!” He holds a pair of something more akin to boho pants up to his waist and poses, “Aren’t they just 60’s chic babe?” Queen that he is, Wade opens his mouth to question or debate when exactly they became vogue, but before he has a chance there’s a glimmer in Dylan’s eyes as he pulls out a piece for Wade to judge.

���And I found these for you babe!” Stretching the string waistband with a wink, Dylan produces a pair of surf shorts that are surely a few sizes too large for Wade, who remains ready to leave. Responding to a complaint not yet uttered Dylan raises a finger to silence him and continues, “C’mon just try ‘em on Wadey! You can tighten them all the way up, this way if you keep up on your gym plans they’ll be perfect for your beach bod!” 

Wade grumbles and reaches out to grab the shorts. Though he’s loath to admit it, he’s surprised at how right they feel now that they’re in his hands. Pursing his lips he doesn’t acknowledge the strange sensation. Wade shakes his head in shock as after a moment holding them, he’s filled with an urge to strip then and there to throw them on. Blushing at the strange thought he keeps silent and allows himself be dragged towards the two shabby dressing rooms in the back of the store.

Dylan, holding his bell bottoms and a vest Wade didn’t see him pick up, does a little pose before dipping into the changing room on the left. Ready to be done and slightly on edge from his intrusive thought, Wade enters the curtained space opposite. Like any other of the millions of dressing rooms throughout the country there’s a mirror, a small mounted bench, and spot to hang up your clothes. What is less expected is the bizarre silence that overtakes him as he steps past the curtain, as if he were in a recording booth.

Holding his shorts he forcefully assumes it’s just his ears popping and he’ll be right as rain any moment now. It’s anyone’s guess as to why the sound of Dylan’s humming as he changes into his little outfit is totally muted by two hanging sheets of fabric. As far as Wade is concerned his boyfriend has simply decided to go quiet, willfully ignoring how out of character that is for a man as uncomfortable with silence as Dylan is. Faced with this strange supernatural quiet Wade feels himself begin to understand the discomfort.

The man’s two feet away, Wade should hear the shuffling of clothing if nothing else. Hackles officially raised, Wade starts to investigate, though before his hands can reach the curtain he’s struck with a migraine and thought that’s not his own blaring in his head, It is of no concern, I should change into the surf shorts. Lip quivering the shorts are already in his hands as he turns back to the mirror.

His reflection flickers as his pants fall to the ground, goosebumps soaring up his legs from the shock of losing their cozy covering. Unwilling to acknowledge whatever horror must lie in the mirror he forces his eyes shut as his body moves of its own accord to pull the baggy shorts on. When he feels them cinched and tied on his thin waist he opens his eyes, holding fast to the idea that everything is fine, must be fine.

In the mirror he finds his reflection as it always is, tacky swim shorts notwithstanding. He looks exactly as he should. Wade sighs in relief before he notices that he’s not out of the impossible jungle yet. What is different is the room in which he finds himself, the curtain now striped, a harsh bulb hangs above him, the small bench replaced by a damaged wooden stool. 

Taking time to rationalize how he’s gotten these details mixed up, as is the only explanation, he sees a shimmer in the bottom of the mirror. Looking closely he sees a spark slowly panning up. When it reaches his feet he sees them slowly begin to darken, tanned by a sun they’ve rarely seen before they begin to bulge and lengthen. Seeing feet more akin to swim fins than what he knows he has he yelps and jumps away, getting tangled in the rough curtain before spilling into the vintage store’s hallway.

Dumbfounded, Wade scrambles to the floor and sees the vintage store is no more. In its place is what appears to be a cabana. Large windows show a bright beachside summer day, a far cry from the frigid world he knew it should be. Before he can pinch himself awake he flinches as some surfer bro gestures to his shorts and shouts, “Eyy Wade! Lookin’ killer brah!” 

Refusing to engage with the world he’s found himself in, Wade beelines to the tall, tanned, muscular man who addressed him by name and asks as his eyes start to tear up, “D- Dylan?” The surfer’s eyes focus in and his mouth closes into a look of shock before dropping into a slack jawed, “Whuh?” and settling on a smile as he laughs and ruffles Wade’s hair, “‘S Ray dude, you know that ahahah!” 

Ray? Wade rubs his eyes as he tries to remember if he knows a Ray, though really he doesn’t think he knows any surfers. Ray. With each searching thought comes a creeping sensation. The name feels right? It feels more at home, more familiar in his head, as if he’s thought of the man thousands of times. Ray. Yeah, he knows Ray, how could he not. Looking at the man standing opposite him, blushing at the tan pecs at his eye level he is struck with countless memories of watching him on the waves. Cheering on his, brah? No that can’t be-

“Should take your shirt off too Wade, show off for the ladies eh?” Ray flexes and Wade narrows his eyes, okay well that’s enough of this dude. He then slaps his forehead, what’s he thinking he just needs to call Dylan, obviously. He quickly runs back to the changed-changing room and arrives just in time to find his pants shifting into vintage shorts, quite like the pair he now wears. Swallowing his fear he reaches into the pocket for his phone, though the only thing he produces is a beaten up wallet and his car keys, now missing their fob.

Putting forth great effort to steady his breathing he checks the wallet to find a similarly damaged driver’s license unlike any he’s ever seen. Gone is the plasticine card he’s carried for years, replaced by some water stained, taped together laminated bit of paper with a signature sloppier than he’d ever use scrawled under his name. His eyes refuse to look at the date of birth as he opts to sprint back and confront Ray.

His feet pound hard on the few steps back to the cabana’s lobby, heavier than they had any right to. With each careening step they widen and lengthen racing to match the wretched paddles he saw in his reflection. Their soles roughening from what must be years of walking along dingy beachside sidewalks, perfect for sticking to a waxed board. “Okay dude, Ray, whatever your name is I’d like my phone back. I don’t think this stupid little prank is funny.”

Ray pauses mouth hanging open, its default state apparently, as he processes whatever it is that Wade must be whining about. He tilts his head and smirks a stupid smile at the clerk that Wade only just noticed, “Hear that Mabes? Wader over here thinks you had a phone in the changing room! Hah!” 

She rolls her eyes before turning to address the clearly apoplectic newcomer, “Wade I don’t know what your deal is today-” she pauses to look him up and down and groans, “God! How many times do I have to tell you guys, if you’re going to come in at least throw on shoes. No one wants to see your disgusting little feet.”

Ray performs indignance at this, throwing a heavy arm around Wade’s shoulder, though he shoots higher than he should as if he were expecting his bro to be taller than he is, “Now Mabe, babe. You won’t get me defindin’ the cleanliness of my brah here, but little! I’ll have you know he’s got the best board huggers this side of San Fran!” Wade narrows his eyes in confusion as whatever is going on is clearly beyond and beneath him. Though as Ray finishes speaking, the smaller man grunts as his feet cramp.

Looking down, Wade discovers that, alongside the world around him, he too has begun to change. His feet have clearly already grown, Dylan always poked fun at his small shoe size, but now they have grown beyond measure. Wade recoils in shock as they balloon once more, toes stretching further as his soles bulge wider.

They seem so large that he wonders where he’ll be able to even get shoes that big. Eyes flickering back and forth he figures he’ll just have to order them on Ama- uh? Wade’s eyes glaze over briefly as he loses his train of thought. His head pangs with pain as the idea of online shopping starts to fade. Surely they have catalogues for extra-large shoes or something, he’ll check with Ray later, yeah. Ray’ll know.

Speaking of, Ray and Mabel have continued arguing. Wade is unaware that as he was lost in his own mind, his new surfer bro has continued to defend him, and with each complimentary phrase Wade has begun to inch taller in height. Speaking of waves conquered and tubes bodied, Wade catches the tail end of one particularly exaggerated story as his mind begins to fill in the details. Back stretching and calves slowly bulking as he clearly recalls bailing from his board. He grunts again as he surges taller, thighs slowly bulking up as his new height exposes a pale midriff, attracting eyes from both of the spatting pair.

Finding he has their attention he clears his throat and begs, “Look, I don’t care about any of this-” Ray recoils in shock, “Can I borrow either of your cellphones so I can call my boyfriend?” Their eyes widen at the brazen use of boyfriend though the friends are well aware of Wade’s proclivities, what actually causes the strange stares is his asking for a cell phone. “Brah, did you hit your head or what? You know the cabana don’t have a phone.” 

Wade shakes his head, he doesn’t know that he doesn’t care, “Sure! Whatever!” he reaches out, “Can I borrow your cell phone.” Mabel and Ray eye each other once more before breaking out into laughter, “Shell phone? What are you on about dude?” Wade stares back with absolute shock and derision before his vision goes spotty and his head burns with a rolling headache. His hippocampus physically pulses as his mind and memories are rewritten.

A cell phone is foolish? A dream. A phone you could just up and carry anywhere? Science fiction. And yet he can almost picture a small black mirror in his hand. Embarrassed from their laughter and determined to not let this fact of reality be erased he continues to stare at his hand as if he’s trying to will one into existence. Unfortunately the only change that he notices is his skin bulging as his hand flexes larger, a few scars blanch from years on the beach as his hands struggle to keep up with his advancing height. One could almost hear his bones cracking as his fingers lengthen and grow calloused while his fingernails lose their polish, grow dirty, and shorten

He pounds the cabana counter and Mabel clicks her tongue, “Okay let’s cool it buddy, you wanna make a call Ray’ll take ya down the street.” She motions to the door with her head and Ray escorts him out, “Come back when you’ve worked out whatever this is on the waves huh Wade?” she pouts as she watches the pair go, taking care to stare at Ray’s defined back with a smile, then she snickers and whispers to herself as she gets back to her magazine, “been watching too much Star Trek I bet.”

Ray’s chipper as ever as he leads Wade out of the cabana, unknowingly more comfortable now that his arm rests closer to where it should after Wade sprouted a few inches. For his part, Wade finds himself distracted by the wild blue sea. Waves rise and crash into foam and he’d swear he could feel the bubbles, the surge on his skin. Like a dog staring at a treat he fights desperately with the urge to sprint across the sand to enjoy it right now.

In fact, his thicker feet begin their plodding to a surf wagon nearby with a couple boards stowed before he’s stopped by a question from Ray, “You wanna take your shirt off so you can get some sun brah? Lookin’ a little pasty there.” Wade shakes his head and tries to disregard his words, though as his mind continues to be assailed by a hunger to surf he gives up the ghost on the shirt battle and reveals his pale weak chest to the world, “s- sounds radical. I’l uhh, catch some rays. hah”

Ray starts to laugh at the pun but instead grimaces as the sight of Wade’s small pasty torso is incongruent with the reality that he knows to be true. Though with a mind accustomed to shrugging off strange ideas and problems too big to worry about he quickly throws his arm around Wade’s shoulders slowly growing wider. “Well let’s getcha to a pay phone so you can call your buddy!” 

Wade rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as the pair head down the boardwalk. He can scarcely focus on the increasingly rapid changes occurring to his body and mind as he’s still distracted by the sound of crashing waves. As the Summer Californian sun beats down on him, his skin starts to darken, closer to the shade Ray recognizes as Wade. Spreading forth in patches he tans to the customary surfer brown, ushering forth from surf shorts that aren’t quite filled and up past a core that is only now getting defined.

So too does his hair suddenly start to lighten. Lengthening into something sun bleached and salt stained. His usually clean-cut look begins to giveaway as the life he knows he should have is slowly eroded, just like the ebb and flow of the waves calling out for him. Pecs beginning to form darken and shine with sweat under the beating sun as he dreamily stares at the sea. Though despite it all, despite true real memories of life in the twenty-first century slowly fading like a mirage, he still remembers his time with Dylan clear as day. To this he holds fast as he stumbles forward from his heavier upper body.

As he continues to grow into this new form, molded by the alien world of the past around him, he begins to notice other surfers and beachgoers eyeing him with familiarity and nodding with respect. After his bicep bulges larger from returning a few shakas, he bumps his shirtless body into Ray to get his attention like he's done a million times. Finally tearing his eyes away from ogling scantily clad women, Ray tilts his head as Wade asks in a tone clearly affected by the thickening neck and shifting disposition, “Hey brah, er- Ray? Am I like, a big deal?”

Ray looks dumbly at Wade as his irises change to match the deep blue of his quarry before laughing, “Hah! Such a cut-up today brah! Course everyone knows you, you’re always ripping! If anyone needs any tips or tricks they come to you.” Wade clenches at his head as years of memories and knowledge rush into his mind. Equivalent to the sensation of bailing on his board into the choppy sea, he’s drowning in visions of showing off on the waves and taking care to help anyone who so desires to join him in enjoying the spray of a set. His chest puffs with pride and puffs larger with pecs as his jaw widens and now-blue eyes roll back. He’s the king of this beach. And just like that, as soon as the words, the idea, cross his mind he’s overwhelmed and pulled under. 

He awakens laid out on a bench somewhere down the way, he hears the Beach Boys playing through some static nearby and opens his eyes to see Ray’s face painted with concern, though as soon as he hears Wade speak up he returns to his usual happy-go-lucky expression. “Gnaaarly dude- feel like I just woke up for the first time~” The new surfer then coughs up some sea water which he finds as strange, he wasn’t surfing was he?

This small quibble with reality acts as one final life preserver to the life he once knew. Just odd enough for him to question his situation, his reality. For a moment he stares at his tanned, veiny hands and questions is this who he is? Trailing up arms patterned with sun-bleached blonde hair and briefly hung up on the quarter-sized nipples poking off a thick chest. He scratches his stomach, for some reason expecting to find a bit of a belly, his fingers instead bump against tight abs.

Unfortunately his last grasp at the future is haplessly wasted as he’s almost immediately distracted by Surfin’ U.S.A, “Ugh-” he chokes out in his now perpetually fried, laid-back voice, “Why’s this dad rock playing?” Ray laughs and helps the man up, “Maan Wade you’re on a trip today, first goin’ on and on about selling phones and some enter-net! You know your dad hates the Beach Boys! Ahahah” With this paltry grasp his past self is evermore washed to sea, Ray’s recollections sound just as strange to Wade as they did to him and Mabel. 

Even the explicit mentions of cell phones and the internet isn’t enough to prevent the rubber band from snapping as decades of lived experience with future technology is wiped from his mind. Memories of the modern world thoroughly displaced by life sprinting across the sands and mooring the foundations of surfing as a continental sport. Just as Ray has done countless times today alone, Wade smiles dumbly in brief reflection on his life lived.

 Going forward on rare occasions some fragment of his other self washes up to his mind like jetsam. Sometimes when he sees a record he can’t help but wonder if they’ll be smaller one day or he’ll reach for something in his pants out of habit when he has a question to ask, before shaking it off like a strange tic. His crew often labels him some kind of prophet as he seems almost too keenly aware of how global events will shake out.

“I swear brah, gettin’ me worried that your new guy’s slipped ya somethin’” Ray says with a wink. Wade flinches with a start, that’s right! He needs to call Dylan immediately! Putting change in a pay-phone like he’s done all his life he dials a number he knows by heart and holds his breath, begging the universe that Dylan will answer the other line as the ringing tone vibrates the receiver, and then his miracle is answered. 

Sounding as if he’s discovered cloud 9, somewhere across the town his love, Dylan, answers, “Heyyyyy, ‘s this Wadey?” The sound of his voice fills Wade’s thicker chest with comfort, “Dyl! God it’s so nice to hear you…” He stands there for a few seconds, only then does he notice how tight his swim shorts have become from his bulking thighs and building ass. Though of course, the most prominent issue at the moment is the rising dilemma in front. He blushes and bites his lip as he tries to speak with more discretion, “You uhhh, down to come over to ours later today?” 

He can almost hear the smile of the man on the other line, “Uhhh yeahh, yeah… Me ‘n my uhhh freaks are on a trip righnow. But yeaaah, think I could swing by baby” Wade can almost see the man on the other line, delighting in the feeling of his fingers twirling the phone wire in his hands, certainly too high to work out a time but Wade doesn’t mind. The promise of a future fuck and time together after is more then enough, “Righteous brah, well I’ll see you then Dyl.” His lover just giggles and the pair hang up at the same time, bonded tighter than ever despite their strange unknown journeys apart. Sighing in delight and ignoring the pulse in his pants, Wade turns to face his brah.

For the first time Wade throws his arm around Ray’s shoulder as the pair wander off towards his wagon. Ray gestures for him to try and mask his clearer than anything erection though the surfer just shrugs, “Oh sure dude, as if anyone ever misses your goose eggs you little horndog.” The pair guffaw and continue to tease eachother as they start back towards Mabel’s cabana.

 Glimmer in his eyes and too eager to not speed up, Wade hits his bro on the back and challenges him on a race to their boards. His new legs carry him faster than he’s ever managed before. Settled into his new life the feeling of his feet pounding into the hot sand fills him with contentment. There’s no place he’d rather be than soaring across the beach while his crew watches.

[kjiscrawlingbackformore]

Peace - Act III : Chapter seven

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Warnings: None

The sun was sinking low over the field, casting long golden shadows across the turf. You moved along the sidelines, camera pressed to your face, the familiar click of the shutter echoing softly under the sounds of whistles and yelling.

Jackie looked pristine as always, ponytail bouncing, uniform spotless, calling out instructions like a born leader. Beautiful even when she wasn’t trying to be. It made you roll your eyes.

Van was in rare form, half-serious and half goofball, pretending to strike superhero poses mid-drill just to mess with Coach Martinez. Mari and Laura Lee flanked Lottie as they weaved through cones, their laughter carrying lightly through the air.

Tai jogged up to Coach mid-drill. “Come on, just one hint. Give me initials. Shirt color. Something.”

Coach Martinez didn’t even blink. “You want to impress scouts? Play like every game is their game.”

Tai groaned. “That’s not an answer, that’s propaganda.”

You lowered your camera, snorting quietly. On the far side of the field, Shauna was running paired drills with Allie, barking corrections and encouragements like a pro.

It all looked so alive, really sweaty, even more chaotic, warm, and you realized just how much you’d missed being here. The familiar buzz of cleats against turf, the mix of sweat and sunblock in the air, the click of the shutter syncing with laughter and shouts.

During water break, Lottie jogged toward the sidelines and peeled off her headband, sweat dotting her brow. She kept her voice low as she leaned close to you, barely audible under the chatter around them.

“So… Ben Grimes,” she said casually. Too casually. “Has he been flirting with you?”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the smug grin, wanting to make an appearance. “You’re still thinking about that?”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Um, no.”

You gave her a look that said liar. “Well,” you added with a shrug, “he did bring flowers to my desk in mixed media an hour ago.”

Lottie froze mid-sip of her water, expression unreadable for a second, cheeks flushed either from practice or something else entirely. “Are you serious? What kind?”

The way she said it, like it was a challenge, like she was already plotting how to one-up him, made you laugh, full and warm.

“No,” you said, amused. “But if he did, I’d tell him to piss off. The Yellowjackets got me booked all season long.”

That did it. Lottie relaxed, her mouth pulling into a grin that was far too pleased.

You glanced over Lottie’s shoulder. “Water break’s almost up.”

Reaching up and brushing a stray piece of turf out of Lottie’s hair without thinking. “Focus up, Matthews,” you said, smirking. “You gotta lock in if you want to make it to nationals this year.”

Lottie grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. “Yes, ma’am.” And for a second, standing there in the middle of the field, your eyes still on her, Lottie almost forgot they weren’t allowed to kiss in public.

Almost.

Your eyes lingered on her face before you motioned for her to head back. She pouted and gave a sigh before jogging back to the field. You watched her go, your heart clenching within your chest.

Your fingertips drumming on your leg, feeling a burst of energy buzz within you. Having no place to go. You turned your back to the field and focused on your job.

The next night, Mari’s party had bloomed in the backyard like it always did, too many folding chairs, too many voices, too many barely-legal bottles passed hand to hand. Someone had strung fairy lights across the fence, and they flickered every time the music swelled. It was the night before the first game of the season, and no one wanted to think about cleats or drills or Coach Martinez’s whistle.

You were leaning against the deck rail, the cheap lighter in your hand flickering as you lit the blunt Natalie had pressed into your palm fifteen minutes ago with a sly, “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

She watched you with a wide grin, and a deep look in her eyes. Like she was excited to see your reaction. Before you pressed it to your lips you narrowed your eyes at Nat.

“Promise this isn’t laced with anything insane?”

She chuckled, “Scouts honor.” she promised holding up crossed fingers like it was sacred.

You nod, and bring the blunt to your lips, eyes still on Natalie as you took a deep inhale. She look held your gaze with an intensity that seemed to soften around the edges in the haze of the blunt in your mouth.

It tasted like pine needles and ash. You exhaled slowly, letting the sound of bickering and laughter blur into white noise. Nat plucked the blunt from your lips and took a hit of the same bud. She exhaled smoke into your face.

“Rude.” You mumble, waiting for her to give it back.

She smiles, “Consider it the dealers tax. Besides wanted to taste it.”

You motioned for it back, and she rolled her eyes, “Not even a please?” she teased.

You scoffed, “Didn’t realize the badass Natalie Scatorccio would demand manners.”

“Hmm well as an ex girl scout, manners will always be a big deal for me.” She deadpan, but after a minute she cracked a smile and giggled.

Natalie fucking giggled.

You’ve never heard her do that. Or seen her looks so soft and…cute? Your eyes widen and lips crack into a smile. “You are soooo fucking high. How much have you smoked???” You ask, reaching for the blunt.

Natalie giggles, and moves her hand away from your reach. “Awww do you care? Don’t worry I’m a big girl I can handle it. Besides I’m not the one we should be worried about.” She motions to past you, and turn your gaze to the direction.

Across the yard, Tai was in a full-on debate with Allie about defensive positioning, her hands flailing dramatically while Allie rolled her eyes and mimed throwing herself into a bush.

You laughed, not just at them, but maybe too hard at something Ben Grimes had just muttered under his breath beside her. Something about Tai being one bad call away from biting someone.

Where Ben came from you had no idea. He seemed to manifest out of nowhere. And in this appearance, Natalie seemed to disappear. He has a shy grin as he says something else, clever, a little funny. And you can’t help the chuckle that slips from you.

Van caught it. But more importantly, so did Lottie.

Lottie, sitting on the back steps with a red Solo cup in one hand and Mari’s voice still buzzing in her ear. She'd taken two sips too many, half a hit from Van’s joint, and now the edges of the world were a little too soft. Her jaw tightened when she saw Ben lean closer toward you, like he was about to make a third joke. She didn’t even hear it. Didn’t need to.

Van nudged her shoulder. “Yo. Chill.”

Lottie didn’t. She snatched the joint from Van’s fingers with more force than necessary, took a quick inhale, then pushed herself up.

“I’m getting another drink,” she said, not really looking at anyone.

Van leaned back, grinning. “Touchy.”

Lottie didn’t respond, just headed inside, the hem of her denim jacket brushing against the screen door as it slammed behind her. Your eyes caught Lottie’s escape back inside.

You frowned, your stomached dipped at the harshness of her exit. You sigh, turning your head to see Nat talking to a boy. You grabbed her shoulder, Nat’s eyes widened at the sight of you. But she smiled when you handed the blunt back to her in passing.

You then murmured something to Ben that sounded like a laugh and an apology but didn’t reach your eyes. Then you followed Lottie back inside.

You found her in the kitchen, staring at a shelf of mismatched cups like they were judging her. The music was muffled here, replaced by the hum of the fridge and the buzz of the overhead light.

“Hey,” you said, stepping in close. “You good?”

Lottie didn’t answer right away. Just filled her cup with something orange and carbonated, then took a sip and made a face. “Why does this taste like cough syrup and poor decisions?”

You smirked, a chuckle bubbling up. “Because it is.”

Lottie set the cup down a little too hard. “Can we leave?”

You raised a brow. “We haven’t even been here an hour.”

“Yeah, well,” Lottie said, her voice lower now, close to a whisper, “I’m done here. Let’s go do anything else. Please.”

You studied her for a second. The smudged mascara, the twitch of her hand near her mouth, the tiny crack in her bravado.

“Ben is harmless,” You said gently. “And you really need to stop mixing alcohol and weed together to numb out your frustration. It’s not a cute cocktail.”

You don’t mention her meds. How she shouldn’t be drinking so much while on them. How you’ve seen how it makes her hangover worse when she drinks too much. And normally you don’t have to. Lottie will normally nurse a single drink all night.

Tonight seemed to be an exception.

Lottie gave a breathless laugh and leaned against the counter, her eyes a little glassy. “Says the girl who literally took a hit from Nat and ran inside here.”

You reached out and brushed your thumb along the edge of Lottie’s sleeve. “Someone’s been watching me.” You teased.

Lottie rolled her eyes, no crack of a smile on the horizon. You sighed, your head tilted to study her. She wouldn’t meet your eyes, and so you let your hand rest on top of hers in a gentle featherlight touch. “Fine. We can go.” You relented.

Lottie blinked at you. “Really?”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your lips. “Really.”

And in that moment, Lottie felt like she won something. Maybe everything. Because you chose her. Again. Without asking why. Without needing to. You both left out the back door with no goodbyes.

Van watched you both go, sipping from her drink, shaking her head with a grin. “Called it,” she muttered to no one in particular.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Spider Queen: *sees babies* And who are these little nibblings?

MK: Stay away form Monkey King's babies!!

Spider Queen: Wait... oh my! No wonder he fought so fiercely before my little minion managed to get the jump on him!

Prev.

Spider Queen finds one of the babies squeaking ferociously at her in a post-New Years episode, and can't even be mad at them.

I could see an encounter happening mid-S2 when the MKrew and Spider Gang are in tight competition, but LBD ain't risking going out of her sewer. Wukong likely gives the gang the cubs to babysit while he investigates what LBD is up to - claiming its a "break from parenting". In reality he doesn't want his precious shadows in the crossfire of any underworld traps or fights.

(*Tense scene of the Noodle Gang standing off against the Spider Demons after a chance encounter in the overworld. When suddenly one of the cubs leaps from MK's shadow and starts hissing at the spiders*) Savage: (*on all fours, posed aggressively at the opponent and making the scariest noises she can!*) \(｀ロ´)ノ Spider Queen, drops her guard, adoring: "Well! Aren't you the sweetest little thing?" Savage: (*chirping angrily as she's picked up by the queen spider*) >:V! Rumble: (*jumps out of MK's shadow and climbs up Spider Queen's leg, wanting ups too!*) Thunder: (*hangs back on MK's shoulders. Is too nervous to approach strangers*) MK: (*about to throw hands if SQ even dares hurt his little sibs!*) Spider Queen, nuzzling: "Just the softest little fuzzballs! You sure the Monkey King made these things? You'd swear they escaped my hairbrush! No wonder that ape was so hard to catch!" Savage: (*half-hearted grumbling as she's kissed on the cheek - leaving a purple lipstick stain*) Rumble: (*delighted giggling as she receives the same doting!*) The Noodle Gang & Spider Gang: (*watching the interaction with confusion, sharing puzzled expressions*)

Eventually the baby monkeys slip away into the shadows and back to MK. The vibe of the potential fight is ruined; everyone just goes home.

Spider Queen has the baby monkeys on her short list of; "do not harm". As a mother figure, she couldn't bare hurting the little nibblings! The Goliath spider agrees.

Huntsman, Syntax and Spindrax thinks they're gremlins - multiple times the monkey cubs impeded or interrupt one of their missions.

[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

Part 2

"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?

[crimsonservalite]

Wow coming out with another post today who would've thought😂

Here's the freight designs! They're all based on a mixmatch of real animals and other random ass stuff I thought would be cool and I'll explain the decisions further down.

On the comic I posted earlier, the fuel trucks are seen with both wheels and without (e.g. Slick and Lumber visibly with wheels compared to Porter standing without). For these designs, they're obviously less truck and more animal (as are the other characters too) so I see it as their choice for what they want to do any time.

In the comic, Lumber has his wheels for ease of transporting the logs, Slick has hers because she's bored and likes rolling them along the wall and Porter hasn't got his because his creaky ass joints get sore if he stands on them for too long.

PORTER

Porter is based off of Velociraptors and dragons. (Sorry he looks a little off, I drew his torso too short) Why? He's fiercely protective and likes to stay in groups, a bit spiky but really is quite fluffy actually. Yes his tail swings a lot when he talks (especially to a certain electric).

His horns are very solid however they are not sharp. Every ridge is rounded and Lumber has only ever been winded rather than impaled mid-play fight😂. He's fast when he doesn't have his wheels out because, when he does, he gets sore and aches for days. That's why he doesn't race often (if at all). In races, it is mandatory to use your wheels, so (after many a time of Slick cuffing him over the back of the head for complaining one too much about his poor old sore knees after racing with Rusty) Porter stays away from the racing track.

LUMBER

Lumber's based off of both a kangaroo and an elephant. Elephants have large, wide feet to support their weight comfortably, and kangaroos have long thick and muscled tails that work as another leg to also give support when they're moving around or fighting. Lumber carries timber (I've got timber, timber's good) which would probably mean he needs a lot of adaptation to help him with that job. His lower body supports the weight easily, his arms are built to carry and his hands are the next big thing.

They look super weird, yeah I know, but they work similar to that of a bird's. Another finger that operates opposite to the others can close up like a claw machine would, helping to better grip large and tubular objects. Having two thumbs (one on either side) work to increase surface area, again, better supporting tare.

SLICK

Slick is based on a variety of big cats. She has markings on her face like a cheetah so she can see better in the bright daylight as she's racing, so she can see the dangers around her and react faster or enact her plans better, and she's more lithe than the other freight. She carries oil, rather than heavier, clunkier objects like coal or wood, so she doesn't need as large of a support and rather is adapted for agility and speed instead. Her tail is long like a cheetah or snow leopard to help balance and switch direction quickly and her lower body is as that of a cougar, strong but still fast.

She's also very furry

HYDRA

Hydra's a fish.

Yeah, not sure why, but hydrogen is in water and Hydra cares about the environment so it fits, 'kay? The webbed hands don't help them much, let's be real, but I can imagine Hydra has an ability to move his gaseous fuel around, so they kind of work like paddles or cups to fan it into the right tubes or valves.

Their tail is essentially like one big coolant tube, circulating from the rest of their body to his tail and then allowing the outside air to keep it cool for when it goes back around again.

Their paws are dog paws just cause I think Hydra's a puppy

Bonus points if you noticed that Hydra does not have caution strips around any part of them. He also doesn't have any on his actual costume in the show as I'm guessing he's not seen as one of the big foreshadowed threats that the other three trucks pose. There's little things on his design that just set him apart from the others, so it's interesting to see if people notice on the original or on this one.

Hope this wasn't too long to read and all makes sense :) be prepared because I'm certain 90% of the comics I will post will be involving them in some capacity😂

I think Electra and the Components are probably next on my list. Rest assured I will try and make them look unique from one another 😂

[dioslesbianwife]

Jofoes reacting to fanart + merch!! how theyd react to seeing fans flaunting off their ita-bags with the character’s faces on them or plushies etc.

ooh that's a good idea- thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!

Dio

He is utterly thrilled and loves the attention.

To him, it’s only natural that people would worship him in such a way. He loves the grand, regal depictions of himself in fanart, especially the ones where he looks godlike.

Sees it as proof of his power and influence, even beyond death.

Will 100% sign merchandise of himself if a fan asks- no, actually, he expects them to beg for it.

Kars

At first, he’s indifferent. Of course lesser beings would admire the Ultimate Life Form. But the more extravagant and dramatic the fanart, the more he thrives on it. If someone shows him a figurine of himself, he’ll critique whether it captures his beauty properly.

“Hmph. They could have made my hair longer.”

Secretly very pleased when he sees cosplayers dressed as him, especially if they go all-out with the hair and stone mask details.

Wamuu

Conflicted. Why are these humans making dolls of him? However, when he sees some fans genuinely admiring his warrior spirit, he respects them.

If he sees an artist pouring effort into a painting of him mid-battle, he will nod approvingly. “You have honored a true warrior. I accept this.”

Doesn’t quite understand why people make cute chibi versions of him, though.

Esidisi

“Hah. It’s only natural for humans to worship the gods.” He acts smug but later can be seen practically weeping tears of joy while holding a plushie of himself.

Absolutely adores dramatic, intense fanart of himself mid-fight. If someone makes fanart of him crying, he gets emotional about how well they captured his essence.

Will pose dramatically if fans ask for a picture with him.

Santana

Stares at the merch. Blinks slowly. “...What is this?”

Unlike the other Pillar Men, he doesn’t care much about admiration, but he finds it interesting that humans would make images of him.

If someone hands him a shirt with his face on it, he just stares at it, turns it around, then shrugs. Probably wears it later because he doesn’t see a reason not to.

Yoshikage Kira

Internally panicking. He does not want this kind of attention. At all.

Seeing his own face on T-shirts, posters, and keychains gives him heart palpitations. His face. His name. Everywhere. They all know who he is.

If he ever comes across a fan, he’d try to play it off coolly, forcing a polite smile. “Ah… yes. That is me. Interesting.” Meanwhile, he’s debating whether he needs to disappear.

Diavolo

Freaks the hell out. He hates being perceived, let alone idolized.

Seeing an entire fanbase dedicated to him is his worst nightmare. He immediately assumes they know too much.

If he saw a Diavolo figure in a store, he’d probably break into a cold sweat and erase time just to destroy it before anyone else saw.

Doppio

Unlike Diavolo, Doppio kind of likes it. He enjoys seeing cute fanart of himself and might even laugh at the chibi versions.

If someone shows him merch of Diavolo, though, he gets nervous and starts talking to his “boss” about it. “Boss… they made a figure of you. Boss? Are you there?”

Would 100% use a plushie of himself as his new “phone.”

Enrico Pucci

At first, he finds it pointless. What use is worldly admiration when he is meant to ascend beyond this existence?

However, if the fanart portrays him as a divine figure leading people toward heaven, he takes it as a sign.

If someone kneels before him wearing his merch, he’d close his eyes and say, “You understand. You will see paradise.”

Funny Valentine

Deeply flattered but keeps a dignified air about it. The idea that people across different universes admire him? Why, of course. His influence is meant to spread.

Personally approves of high-quality merchandise. If he finds a luxurious, patriotic looking figure of himself, he might even nod in satisfaction. “Good craftsmanship.”

If fans cheer for him in a public setting, he’ll do the classic hand-over-heart pose and graciously accept their admiration.

Diego Brando

At first, he acts unimpressed. “Hmph. About time people recognized my greatness.”

If he finds fanart portraying him as less cool than he is, he might get offended. “Tch. My jawline is sharper than that.”

Secretly really pleased if someone makes a badass statue of him riding his horse.

Tooru

Ohhh, he eats this up.

He loves the idea of people admiring him without even knowing his true nature. “Oh? They think I’m handsome? How cute~”

If a fan approaches him, he acts super nonchalant but is secretly thrilled. He’ll tease them a little, playing it off like, “Wow, you guys really like me, huh? Should I sign something for you?”

If someone makes fanart of him with creepier undertones, he actually laughs at how accurate it is.

[angelltheninth]

What's That Falling From the Sky

Pairing: Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor

Febuwhump Day 27: Post Victory Collapse

Tags: fluff, angst, injury, passing out, kissing, relationship reveal

Word count: 1.2k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions | Event Masterlist

A/N: Supercorp not being canon is angsty enough. Their existence alone should be enough to fill a prompt.

People weren't scared when Supergirl fought and beat a supervillain. They were scared when she collapsed and crashed into the road below afterwards. Lena wasn't just scared, she was terrified and worried sick. So much so that she stormed right out of her meeting and stormed into the DEO.

No one there was panicking nearly as much as she was. Which was a good sign she supposed, if Kara was in any real danger she would have heard Alex yelling already. But she wasn't, she was sitting next to Kara, who looked fine, safe for some minor bruises and scratches that were already in the healing stages.

"You can't keep overdoing it Kara, one of these days a punch like that could send you into a coma." Kara didn't seem too worried about it, in fact she started laughing it off but stopped as soon as she spotted Lena standing at the door.

"Oh, Lena! You're here!" She was smiling. Like the whole City, if not more, hadn't just seen her crash from the sky. Like she wasn't injured and there was never any danger to begin with.

Pissed off Lena marched into the room, confusing Kara, Alex and the staff. But what confused them more was the kiss that followed. She would have thrown herself at Kara were she not worried about hurting her, so she settled for a passionate embrace instead. Kara gasped in surprise, allowing Lena to deepen the kiss. It wasn't like Kara didn't have the lung capacity.

But she did have shame, a whole lot of it.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, is that clear, Kara?!" Lena still held onto her, her shoulder, her cape, while she blinked away tears of frustration.

Kara was more scared of Lena's fury than any other enemy, and of hurting her. "Scare you? It was just a little fight, Lena. You've seen me do it before." Slapping her would probably break Lena's hand but maybe it was worth it when her girlfriend seemed to have so little regard for her own safety. "Besides I'm fine. Look!" Kara struck a pose and flexed, then another, and another. "Good as new, babe!"

"Babe?" Kara paused mid flex and looked at her sister, who looked angry and horrified. "And since when exactly have you two had this kind of a relationship? And why wasn't I informed?"

The staff already made their quiet exit, sensing it was probably best to pretend that they didn't see or hear anything.

"Well... you know... we were gonna tell you, Alex. Tell everyone. Eventually." Kara looked like a puppy that got caught doing something bad. "Eventually for sure."

"Right. I was eventually gonna be told that my little sister was dating the CEO of L-Corp. Instead I had to witness a make out session. Yuck. Don't ever do that in front of me again because I don't want to think about my baby sister doing that with anyone." She would rather go into the Phantom Zone.

But that was just the idea that Lena needed. She needed to talk to Kara alone and unlike Kara she didn't have the shame needed to prevent her from doing anything scandalous. She hugged Kara again. "I was so worried about you. I couldn't help myself. Kara." Kara blushed when Lena's lips brushed against her cheek.

"You... keep it in your pants!" Alex stood up abruptly and narrowed her eyes at the couple. "We will talk about keeping secrets later. And you, Luthor, I'll talk to you about seducing my sister." She pointed her finger at Lena and didn't stop until the door closed.

"You made my sister mad. It was nice dating you, Lena." Kara sighed but she leaned in, to kiss Lena anyways. However Lena moved away, leaving Kara looking confused mid-kiss.

"Do you have any self-preservation instincts at all? In your entire body is there one cell decided to it. Or in that big brain of yours is there ever a thought that tells you that you should keep yourself alive for your own sake?!" Lena's voice rose with every question, her hands gripping at Kara harder.

"Yes? I have to come back to you and everyone else don't I?" Kara hugged her. "So you never have to worry about-"

"But I do worry! I worry every time, can't you see that?!" Lena knew she wasn't doing anything by smacking her fists against Kara's front but she couldn't help herself. "Every time you fight even if you come back completely fine, I will still worry about you. I'm your girlfriend and your best friend, Kara. Worrying about you is part of the description."

"Lena, I'm sorry. I don't want you to worry. Ever. But I guess it's kind of inevitable huh, with me being a superhero and all." She lightly cupped Lena's face and looked deep into her eyes. She really wanted to make her feel better. But how? She couldn't stop doing what she was doing, the world, the universe, the multiverse, needed her.

Lena worried about her, but Kara had to worry about the well-being of everyone else. It wasn't something she could just quit.

"Next time... I call in for back-up. I know Alex is always telling me I shouldn't rush in alone. But that's about all I can do. Everyone's counting on me to be strong for them. And you... I know there were times where you were strong for me too. I see it, feel it. When you hold me, kiss me, when you insist on taking me to all those fancy places to treat me, when you praise me, when you offer to help me. I see it Lena. Thank you, for being strong for me." Lena chewed on her bottom lip, not as used to praise as Kara was.

But Kara always gave it so liberally. Her love, it wasn't something Lena had to prove herself worthy of. She just had it. "I'm scared of losing you. We've been friends for years, Kara. Dating for over a year now, and the amount of love you've given me is more than I ever hoped for. I don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. I would escape the Phantom Zone to get home to you. I love you too much to die." She was the Woman of Steel who was too in love to die.

"One of these days you need to stop thinking like that. I don't want you to go to the Phantom Zone, ever. I'd much rather you stay with me the whole time." She hugged Kara close, just the sound of her heartbeat was enough to give Kara strength. "By the way, I'm sorry about revealing our relationship, I know it wasn't how we planned it."

"It certainly didn't involve kissing in front of my sister." Alex will either scold her for keeping secrets, or tease her about finally getting with Lena.

Lena hummed, her hands massaging Kara's shoulders. "Well, she's not here now."

"That... is true." Kara already liked where this was going even before Lena unbuttoned her shirt. "Are you trying to motivate me to come back in good condition? Cause um... this is a good way to do it, Lena."

"Good to know. A way to get you to do what I want. Love, food and boobs." She teased before kissing her again, the cameras in the DEO be damned. After all she had more than enough money to bribe every single person working here into forgetting everything they saw.

[bubba-luz]

What do you think about the One Piece live action show?

(I just suffered through most of it with my sibling and I actually shed a tear or two)

At first I really loved it! But then as the weeks went by the honeymoon phase was over and I started noticing things and thinking about things. Safe to say I’m not really a fan of the LA anymore. It could have been worse honestly with the track record of Netflix and live action adaptations in general [the wigs oh god the wigs]. Also on the topic of adaptation I’d say OPLA is more of an interpretation of the original manga than it is a one on one adaptation.

I think the cast is great, they do look the part. But the characterizations of the LA is well…not the manga one. I had forgotten what happened in the EB arc at that time, but I started rewatching the anime and the changes are even more jarring. In the LA, Luffy isn’t as confident as he is in the manga, he clearly shows doubt in his abilities and sometimes needs someone else to help him up and get his head on straight. I think the only true time that happens in the manga us when Jinbē has to tell him to get himself together after losing Ace and his crew, most of the time Luffy doesn’t really need to ponder and go “oh gosh what should I do here?😣” he mostly just does things without thinking or improvises mid-battle.

Zoro. Zoro Zoro Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. Why are you not a complete loser? OPLA Zoro is what men in the fandom think Zoro is, a stoic no nonsense cool guy who fights with swords. He’s just so emo. But he’s not. The concept alone of fighting with a sword in your mouth and calling it three sword style is ridiculous itself. This is pre-timeskip too, Zoro is always goofy, but he was even more silly when he was 19, this is the same man who tried to cut off his own legs and started posing when he realized he wasn’t getting out. Why was he so serious all the time. Also the Kunia story did not hit as well as in the manga, like I really didn’t give a fuck 😭.

Oh Nami…Nami…To me Nami felt a bit…mean to me? And yes even before Arlong Park she chastises the boys, but it never feels like genuine dislike. I really think LA Nami wanted to leave their asses 😭. There was no whimsicalness in her heart, TOO MUCH ANGST in this one. And why on Earth would they change her storyline with the Village, the townspeople know Nami is only working for Arlong to buy back their Village, the LA approach of them not knowing was completely unnecessary conflict😭.

Usopp was done dirty, I know Syrup Village isn’t a lot of people’s favorite arc but it was Usopp’s arc. So tell me why he does nothing the whole time! And why is Zoro’s back story in the middle of USOPP’S arc. They even took his little kid crew…

rip Merry.

Sanji…ooohohohohoh Sanji. Sanji. SANJI. What do you mean the eyebrows wouldn’t work because they’re “too silly” you’re main character is a rubber man and the other fights with three swords what do you mean TOO SILLY. You had a man with cat whiskers fuck you. Tiny swirls would’ve worked. Why was he obsessed with oregano 😭 The showrunner said they toned down his pervertedness and made him more flirty but it just felt…uncomfortable. Like Nami was genuinely UNCOMFORTABLE. They did the exact opposite of what they tried to do. Baratie Sanji was already a flirt, in his little pathetic “step on me mommy” Sanji way, and Nami used that to her advantage she wasn’t uncomfortable in the manga. The Don Krieg pirates were taken out, so we don’t get Gin and Sanji’s kindness on full display. Sanji doesn’t even WITNESS Zoro fight Mihawk which is what made him want to go set out to find the All Blue in the first place. Why don’t Zeff and Sanji have genuine chemistry😭. Sanji throwing a tantrum at Zeff was soooooo funny, literally what was that, it happened so suddenly 😭. My friend told me the showrunner said his fave arc was Baratie but he only ever talks about MIHAWK 😭, it’s SANJI’s arc bro.

And also the showrunner thinks the romance dawn trio are the main characters when…they’re not😭? Maybe before Usopp joined, but after?…no all the strawhats are the main characters hello. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbē. I don’t have high hopes for S2, and I probably won’t watch it either.

Edit: OPLA Sanji feels like a heterosexual man. He only tops women and doesn’t fuck or get fucked by men.

[shizukateal]

Hey, I want to ask you something because I'm in somewhat of an impasse. It's about magical girl fashion. To start at the beginning, I'm planning to design magical girl costumes/clothing for characters from a piece of media. My main struggle is, how to make the costumes visibly a magical form while also retaining its practicality. These characters move around a lot during battle and in general, and even the ones who use ranged weaponry do get to have their one-on-one fight occasionally when fighting enemies. So how do I design a magical girl costume, without sacrificing personality and 'fanciness', so to speak...while also being practical so that there'd be few things for an enemy to potentially grab or things to get stuck somewhere?

The key is always verisimilitude in movement and weight. You don't have to be perfectly grounded in what's practical for the form of combat your character takes, you just have to make something that seems like it at least wouldn't get in their way and which compliments them stylistically.

For a concrete exercise recommendation I give you this: draw your characters in different action poses, with as much range of motion as their fighting style allows. Put the clothes and hair on them. Now, if you find an element in the design that seems to be impractical, ask yourself before deleting it "how much and how consistently can I cheat the physics of this element to make it work with this fighting style?".

Take Batman's cape for example. In real life that would be impractical as all hell (Edna Mode's rant and all), especially since Batman primarily uses martial arts, but the illustrators and animators "cheat" by making it flow in a way that doesn't get in the way of him throwing punches and kicks. If Batman is fighting mano a mano the cape stays neatly behind his back and only the bottom moves a bit without ever turning front. Enemies conveniently avoid grabbing him by it and on the off chance they go for that option then he'll overpower them and use their grip against them. If he's dodging or stalking then suddenly the material is more floaty or almost liquid. If he does a big dramatic jump then the cape will perfectly retain its wing shape mid air for as long as it's needed to really imprint the fact that yes, indeed, he does look like a bat. What's important is that you're never really asking yourself how much Batman's cape weights, even if you understand that it's not realistic. You know that the cape will be more stiff around his torso and shoulders and more loose at the bottom, you get how those differences interact to make the whole, and you also get that sometimes the whole will become a bit stiffer if it's for the sake of maintaining a cool pose. So as long as the cape moves consistently with that in mind no one will give a fuck that it doesn't snag on everything around it.

However, this also means that there's a limit to how acrobatically Batman moves, unlike the robins, because there are only so many ways you can stylize that movement before you break the verisimilitude of the physics involved. Can Batman do a cartwheel with a cape that moves like that? Yeah, sometimes, but to keep the stylization consistent the cape would need to move so slow that it would strain suspension of disbelief for him to do so all the time instead of dodging normally.

That's the "problem" (quotes because it is a matter of personal taste) I have with most modern Precure outfits. Good or bad, the dresses are so charged and the hairstyles so big that the animators can't really move those elements in a way that compliments their fighting style of big jumps, punches and kicks. You try to pose them for a generic jab and you have to contend with both their massive skirts not getting in the way of their stance and their hair not whipping around in a way that would unbalance them, and the result ends up feeling way too artificial because everything has to remain unnaturally frozen in place for it to work. Oops!

But ok, those are practical concerns, what about choosing the stylization itself? Well, movement can still help us a lot on that area.

Let me be predictable as I turn your eyes towards the Holy Quintet once more. First let's focus on Sayaka Miki, who also has an overdramatic cape.

As we can see in this gif above, Sayaka's cape is constantly flaming, not only in the sense of how it moves but in the shape it most consistently retains, always coming from the focalized point of her neck. This loose application of physics makes it move wherever it would help her silhouette look more impactful aided by the short hair not presenting the usual competition that would be present on other magical girls (looking at you Cure Sky), although of course it can stay still and quietly cascading when it's stylish. But even beyond that the movement of the cape matches a consistent motif in how Sayaka moves within her fighting style and what that means in the context of her aesthetic. If you rewatch the show or most of her transformation sequences you'll notice that Sayaka tends to swoop into to or dive into the action. Of the Holy Quintet she's the one who seems to run the fastest and usually in a straight line, because that's what she is: heroic and straightforward.

Now let's make a broader comparison with the 5 members of the team.

Naoko Yamada from Kyoto Animation fame has said that you can tell a lot about a girl from her legs and in this case she's right. Starting from the left, Kyoko has thigh-highs and pirate boots that cinch below the knee, and along her skirt her legs are framed by her long-coat. Her weapon is a spear, a weapon that requires a stance that must be solid but still quick enough to shift, so the weight of her outfit is focused downwards while her shoulders are exposed for mobility but her arms and especially her wrists are protected, and her big ponytail balances the whole thing. Sayaka runs fast and she sword fights, so she's covered in most of the same areas as Kyoko since she needs a similar balance of stance and mobility, but the weight is put more around her torso so she can run more freely and the cape frames her arms instead of her legs, because her sword serves mostly to slash and so her arms will move more stiffly than Kyoko's. It's another genius way to show they're foils.

Mami has very long, stylish guns and uses her ribbons as vines to move around. Stance also matters in her case, but not in the same way as the previous two. She doesn't need to keep standing on her feet, she needs to move around more freely and even crouch or kneel at times, so her boots are very form-fitting, but there's still some ease and looseness with her absolute territory. And since pointing a gun requires a stable grip and quick reflexes on the fingers her arms are heavier and her gloves are finger-less. But beyond all of those practical concerns you'll notice that she's very very fond of twirling around, whether standing on the ground or in mid-jump, so it's important to her that her skirt has that furls and unfurls like a blossoming flower.

Homura's legs are very highlighted. Unlike Mami who jumps around in her loose skirt doing somersaults an adds unnecessary frills to her movements Homura is efficient. Precise. Practically a rectangle. Her stocking-boots protect her whole legs and keep them compressed and strong without sacrificing much mobility were it not for her very high and thin stilettos. There's a limit to how quick she can run in those things before making her run cycle look kinda stupid, so instead her focus is to do as much as she can with the least amount of movements possible. She elegantly falls feet-first and poses into action, her hair moving most of all in a similar manner to Sayaka's cape. When she's Moemura, however, her braids flop clumsily like oversized ears on a puppy. She'll look good with a big gun like Mami since her silhouette is so subdued, but since her specialty are bombs and short guns her uniform calls more attention to her hands.

And last but not least we have Madoka. Constantly perched on her rounded tippy-toes due to her high heels, with bunched up shoulders and dainty gloves that call attention to her wrists. Her outfit is designed to highlight her Girly Run. Kyoko flails her arms, Sayaka dives, Mami twirls, Homura glides and Madoka bounces around, hence her buoyant tutu. But she's also an archer. Now, would a real archer wear those dainty, frilly, white tea-time gloves? Haha, no. But that doesn't change the fact that gloves are a useful thing for an archer to wear. It's credible enough and it fits her style, so why not add it?

Please note however that I'm not saying the Holy Quintet's outfits are the only way to handle their respective fighting and movement styles. Rather, I'm trying to teach you how the elements they use compliment them so you can analyze what you want to achieve and start looking for solutions from there. Here, let's make a comparison between characters with the same core idea and what the subtle differences in their executions tell us about them.

Now, why would two catgirl magical girls both wear round-toed, tight boots that highlight their knees? Well, because cat's hind legs are one big feet up to the knee is why. And if you're gonna stand in all fours then might as well add some gloves for protection. Then add a puffy skirt for bounce and dessert theming and voilá, jumpy acrobatic cat. If anything, however, I'd say Mew Ichigo's fit is better movility-wise, because her bob is lighter and less obstructive, her skirt and boots allow for more range of motion, and her gloves look thicker and more resistant. But both work well for their purposes, it's just that Ichigo is built more around the agility of a cat and Macaron around its elegance.

Then we have Cat Noir, who has 3 ways of moving: his acrobatics -similar to Ichigo-, his bo-staff, and his cataclysm. Notice that his joints stick out from his otherwise form-fitting literal catsuit. This is because he puts even more of his weight into those than the previous two. Ichigo mostly jumps catlike with her legs straight, but Chat crouches and stalks and climbs and slashes with his claws, and sometimes I think he even uses his bo-staff to fence like a rapier. He may be the most practical out of the 3, but on the other hand notice that his feet seem the heaviest both because of how highlighted they are and because the boots seem steel-toed. Chat can contort into positions the other two won't, but he'll likely do less somersault twirls than them because it feels like his feet are too heavy for that. If his tail belt was more alive like an actual tail, however, we might have a different story, because that would provide a counterbalance to the heaviness of the shoes and it could move in a similar way to a skirt.

One last example and I'll be over.

So, I watched The Mandalorian (pirated so that Disney can't legally kill my spouse), and at the end of the first season they give the main character a jet pack. Now, it's important to this character that he wears a long cape because he's brooding and questant and mysterious but with a strict code of conduct and so his pastiche of archetypes includes looking like a crusader knight. So you'd think that getting a jetpack would make him ditch the cape since it's a fire hazard, but no, not quite. Instead he simply gathers it over one of his shoulders, and since the flame of the jetpack is small, so long as the end of the cape doesn't move around to wildly you barely notice that it's there at all. Is it improbable that the whole thing doesn't catch fire? Absolutely. Does it work anyways? Yes!

In conclusion? Find ways to cheat physics. But find them! Don't just stare at your first draft expecting it to do the work for you!