#posts things at awful times because i have no self control

[grmpgm]

ok executive dysfunction is kind of ruining my life actually

[teaboot]

do you think i'll ever get to a place in my life where i'm actually a good person and i don't keep getting bombarded with people telling me all the ways i'm doing things wrong. will i ever stop feeling like i'm faking being good and i'm actually a despicable person deep down inside like there's something rotten and irremovable in the very core of me. i feel sick

As a recovering self-hater I have a few things that have been helping

Truly shitty people are typically, in my experience, not chronically preoccupied with anxieties that they need to be better. It seems to be the 100% rock-solid certainty that everything you ever do is selfless that you need to watch out for.

Motive only matters in court. If you donate 30 hours a week to charity so you can tell yourself you're a good person or you donate that same time because you genuinely enjoy helping people, that's still 30 hours, imo. At that point the argument is more philosophical than anything. The help is still happening.

Nobody can read your mind. You can be the bitterest, cattiest, most judgemental and mean-spirited motherfucker alive, but as long as you don't let your feelings hurt others, you're golden. In fact, I personally think you should get extra credit for effort. Swimming upriver ain't easy

None of us are selfless by nature. That's okay. We all crave attention, and validation, and comfort, and reward. That self-interest is a survival skill. It's not going anywhere and I don't think it should. The key is moderation, self control, and consideration for others.

The loudest voice in your head probably isn't yours. Survivors of all kinds of abuse- and all abuse is psychological to varying extremes- often keep their critic's narrative in their head. That voice that says you're awful- is that something you'd say to someone else? No? Then try to figure out who said it to you. They were probably an asshole. The voice that answers it it probably your own. Listen to that one

No, you will not feel like this forever. It's a pain in the ass, but dedicating time and thought into ignoring that inner critic and elevating your positive impulses is effective.

Some things I've done myself that seem to help:

Do some research on cognitive behavioral therapy and cognitive reprogramming. These are easier to exercise with a therapist but once you figure out the steps to follow you can do them on your own, too.

When you do something good, write it down for yourself. Keep a dated journal, either on paper or in your phone. When you find yourself in a pit of self-loathing, you can go back and remind yourself of all the good you've done. If this is hard, try listing 3 good things you did at the end of each day. Anything from picking up a scrap of litter to running a food drive.

Long post, but really, the best thing I can say is this:

Aything that takes effort is worth celebrating, even if that effort is minimal or that task is considered small.

At the end of the day, "bare minimum" isn't working a full-time job and eating three meals a day, cleaning up after yourself and doing it with a smile- bare minimum is nothing. Bare minimum is laying on the floor motionless for 24 hours and filter-feeding like a sea sponge. And if even that's difficult for you, then it's not your bare minimum, is it?

There's a lot of cruel, inconsiderate, uncaring people in the world, only out for themselves at the expense of others, and even if you think you're one of them, giving a shit about doing better still puts you a mile ahead of most.

Try not to worry too terribly. If you're thinking about it, you're probably doing fine👍

[imasimpforshanks]

how they respond to you asking “what do you even like about me?”

ft. ace, luffy, sanji, shanks, sabo, law, zoro

a/n: not me actually having MORE ideas to post????? BUT FOR REAL THO I’m so awful when it comes to posting i either have lots of ideas and no self control so post things IMMEDIATELY or i disappear for 8 months 😭😭😭😭😭 like i know I literally post what like 9 hours ago but here we are again 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️I’m too impatient LOL

also this is fluff fluff and more fluff!!! maybe a hint of insecurities????? not really though just silly stuff! Fem!reader in aces one but other than no specified gender!! love ya’ll please enjoy xxxxxx

ace looks at you incredulously for a second. “really?” he asks, and when you nod in response ace pulls you into his arms laughing fondly, “i mean what’s not to like? you’re literally my dream girl!”

you smile at the way luffy’s eyebrows furrow and his lips pull into a pout as he ponders your question for a moment. you find your smile widening as luffy stands up, stretches his arms to the sky and shouts with so much joy you can feel it radiate from his body, “you’re you! that’s what i like. no wait- that’s what i love!”

sanji looks slightly taken aback by your question, “if you’re asking me that, it seems i have failed as a boyfriend! im so sorry, my love.” to immediately right his wrong, sanji takes your hand in his own, kneels before you and begins listing off each and every thing he likes (loves) about you, punctuating each one with a kiss to your hand.

“your ass,” shanks instantly replies with a chuckle, but when he notices you’re unimpressed by his answer he pulls you into his lap and says reassuringly, “you are the love of my life. i love every single thing about you.” and when you playfully retort ”much better” he can’t help but tease, “and for real i reaaaaally love your ass.”

“well, there’s nothing i ‘like’ about y-“ sabo begins before quickly correcting himself, “no wait, what i mean is… im so in love with you that there’s nothing i only ‘like’ about you.” he pauses before continuing, “does that make sense? there’s nothing to like - only things to love!” he finishes his sentiment with a firm kiss to your lips.

law mistakes your genuine curiosity as questioning his love for you, so he immediately stops what he is doing, turns to face you and apologize, “im so sorry i don’t tell you enough. i’ll do better.” and ever a man of his word, you wake up the next morning to hand written list of all the things he likes about you (and the next day, and the next).

zoro pauses for a moment, practically malfunctioning as his mind blanks while he struggles to come up with an answer, because he doesn’t even know where to begin, “i-i uh- i don’t know…” but then you’re turning away from him with a pout and glossy eyes and he surprises himself when he blurts, “there’s just too much to choose from.” then you’re asking him to repeat himself and zoro complies, saying (much more confidently this time around), “i wouldn’t even know where to start because there’s too many things i like about you.”

[kiyo-cant-write]

hi hi! jade req again, kinda toxic this time

can we get jade with a reader who’s really easy to manipulate and they know it? idk if it makes sense but like jade realizing reader isn’t oblivious to his manipulation, just kinda self-destructive and hopelessly into him

jade thought he was being slick because reader wasn’t calling him out on anything, but he overhears their conversation and finds out that they’re fully aware jade is a ton of red flags but is still staying anyway, and his reaction to that

i really hope this makes sense! idk how to word it

jade w/ an easily manipulated reader ✧･ﾟ

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Aw! Thank you for another request! I love Jade and Octavinelle so much! I hope that I did your idea justice. Please let me know if you'd like another request in the future! Onwards to the story! ^^

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Summary: Jade Leech has been stringing [Name] along for fun and due to the instruction of Octavinelle's Housewarden. He thought he was doing well... but it seems [Name] may have had ulterior motives.

TW/CW: Toxicity but the standard Fish Mafia kind

Notes: established "relationship", they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, the reader is described as human and younger than Jade/frosh, ADeuce if you squint, implied to be post-Azul OB

Guest Stars: Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Grim, Azul Ashengrotto & Floyd Leech (referenced)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jade Leech

As much of a sadist as Jade can be, he's not exceptionally cruel outside of what he deems as the necessity for his purposes.

He is a bit smug when he thinks he has [Name] under control.

Jade is pretending to be "honor student Jade Leech."

He acts as their friend and support albeit for the Lounge.

He pretends to care, to do everything to help them.

He smiles at them, speaks politely, and even "affectionately."

They trust him and they tell him things they shouldn't.

He will use those bits of information when the time comes.

Every time they have an inkling of doubt, he squashes it.

His surprise is evident when Floyd points out that it might not be the case this time, but Floyd is Floyd and doesn't explain.

Wanting to make sense of this discovery, Jade observes [Name].

He watches to see if [Name] really has caught onto him.

Jade is intrigued and what he finds does not disappoint.

He is surprised to find that they caught on long ago.

But they stayed? Why?

Because they "love" him?

Why would they love the guy trying to string them along?

It didn't make sense to him. He felt a tug at his heartstrings.

Did he feel bad about this?

He didn't know what to do.

Jade starts to avoid [Name] after realizing their feelings.

He retracts further into his honor student persona.

[Name] will not win this fight. He will not be bested by a freshman.

The battle has just begun and Jade needs to bury this sinking feeling in his chest. What does it mean anyway?

Floyd serves as a live studio audience to Jade's struggles.

Jade is an observer. That had been his role for so long, that he wasn't sure when it began. Ever since he was young, he would watch and calculate while Floyd was the type to rush into things, be impulsive, and just a tad stupid at times, at least when they were young. Jade never intended to make his observations a skill, but sooner or later, everything becomes an asset.

That's what his father had always said.

His mother worried about the sadistic streak in her son, but she couldn't do anything to prevent its development. Jade was, after all, a member of the Leech family. He and Floyd would join the family business sooner or later unless they wholly refused its offer.

"[Full Name]," Jade mused to himself, "How interesting."

Azul had been the one to ask him to pay extra close attention to Ramshackle's Prefect in case they strayed too far from things, or got into any trouble. The magicless human that had saved others from themselves, they interested the owner of Mostro Lounge. Jade had simply agreed with Azul's request, observation was his skill, after all.

It had never been meant to evolve, and certainly not into this.

Jade watched as this person fell for his polite words hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy. They were shockingly trusting, telling him all sorts of things he could use to be downright evil if he wanted to be. It wasn't time for that, not yet, but one should always guard their secrets (perhaps not as much as Azul, but at least a bit).

He didn't need to do anything unless the moment called for it.

At the time, it had not been necessary.

That was weeks ago.

Azul hadn't given further instructions and, to be fair about it, Jade didn't want to earn that octomer's ire. Not today, anyway. He and Floyd were troublesome, yes, but not stupid.

So, as Azul had instructed, he was trailing the Prefect until told otherwise (or until it became boring, whichever arose first). Though their reactions had been predictable, he could argue that things were getting boring now.

Floyd would have given up ages ago, he was sure of it.

[Full Name] was currently spending their time with their classmates, Ace Trappola (easily swayed by competition and bets) and Deuce Spade (note: gullible as a child). Jade had kept an eye on the three of them (and Grim) because of their closeness. It was rather irritating how buddy-buddy they were. He had worked a bit to get [Name] alone those few times they had spoken privately.

Standing away from the trio, Jade listened in on their conversation.

"[Name], I don't think that this is good," Deuce told them, clearly worried for their friend's mental state, "You need to be more careful. Don't you remember what happened to me and Ace?"

"I fucking remember!" Ace chimed in, "It sucked. Don't trust fish."

"Nya! Fish are food, not friends," Grim told them, "Especially eels!"

"Ah... You guys..."

Jade almost wanted to chuckle at Grim's words of "wisdom" but he withheld it, knowing that he mustn't give away his position. Not yet.

"You shouldn't trust Leech-senpai," Deuce continued, "Do you not remember how he and his twin brother acted before?"

"THEY TRIED TO KILL US, [NICKNAME]!!" Ace interrupted Deuce, earning him a glare from the navy-haired boy, "Sorry, Deuce-chan."

"Don't call me that."

What Deuce was doing could only be described as glowering.

"Lighten up and help me convince [Nickname] not to get themselves murdered by a shady eel and a shadier octopus!" Ace told him, slapping Deuce on the shoulder, "Just because they're better doesn't mean they're changed fish! Fish are suspicious!"

"Ace, do you have some fish-related trauma outside of campus that I should know about?" Deuce asked him, "It's starting to seem—"

"FOCUS ON [NICKNAME], DEUCE."

Ace's reddened face was a sign that Deuce was on to something with that fishy nonsense. Jade Leech would remember that fact.

Fish trauma. Noted.

"....Okay," Deuce agreed, turning back to [Name], "Do you want to tell us what you've been doing with Leech-senpai? We're worried..."

Deuce trailed off for a moment before he added a Deuce-typical offer.

"I can fight him if you want me to. They're messing with my friend."

"N-no thanks, Deuce... I don't think I need that," [Name] said, laughing at the antics of her friends and roommate, "Honestly, I know he's not being honest with me... But I don't really... care?"

The words surprised Jade but he refused to give himself away. There was more information to be gathered, for his own needs and Azul's.

They don't mind my dishonesty? Heh...

"I have never been more concerned for you than I am right now," Ace said, tone lacking its usual goofy undertone, "Do you want me to tell Mom and Dad about anything? They would help..."

Ace wasn't sure what to do but this was a worry. So frantic to say his sentence Ace neglected to register his misnomer for Vice Housewarden Trey Clover and everyone's favorite senpai Cater Diamond. He could lay awake and think about that later.

Deuce clearly felt similarly as he reached out to put a hand on [Name]'s. He wasn't good at solving problems of the emotional variety but he could be a support. Or, he would try to be one.

"Even if we can't say anything helpful... We can be here to listen."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine," [Name] tried to assure them (but it wasn't working), "I just... I like Jade-senpai... and if this is how... he will talk to me... then I am okay with it. I've just been going along with all... that."

Jade felt time stop for a millisecond as he processed the words. They had been "playing along"? They didn't fall for every trick? Perhaps this was more interesting than he had thought. Still. He didn't like being bested, perhaps he needed to up his game...

"[Name], that's not good... I don't think..." Deuce managed.

"I wish Mom and Dad were here..." Ace mumbled.

"[Name], don't leave me for a fish! It's not even tuna!"

Grim clung to his human with small paws, tail swishing.

Jade was baffled not by those that Azul had previously controlled but by [Name] themself. They were something odd amongst the students of Night Raven College. They didn't shy away from his... methods.

But they said they liked him. He wondered if that made him feel something. He wasn't one to like other people, stay around them long... especially these landfolk.

It was a foreign concept.

Oh dear. [Full Name], you've managed to intrigue me now.

To the concern of Deuce, Ace, and Grim, Jade Leech wouldn't be letting his human prey go any time soon. Not for Azul, or his brother... This was something he was pursuing now. For better or worse.

I hope they're prepared to best me once more.

What would they say if I said I "loved" them? ♪

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[its-your-mind]

Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)

but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.

And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.

So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.

Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.

“Kon. I love you.”

Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”

“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’

So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.

Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”

Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”

Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”

Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.

“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one’d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”

Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.

“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”

Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.

This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.

I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.

Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”

Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”

[welcometololaland]

10 things - 2024/2025 edition

happy new year, everyone! 2024 has been a year of change for me in so many different ways, and i've posted very little fic this year, mostly due to writers' block and time constraints. so, instead of doing the writing round up i thought i'd list 10 things i'm grateful for in 2024 (fandom edition) and 10 things i want to do in 2025 (also, fandom edition). please feel free to make your own if you wish! consider this an open tag 🏷️

2024 - things i'm grateful for (in fandom, in no particular order)

1. my ride or die friends who deal with my self doubt and breakdowns and (being 100% real) paranoia about situations that simply don't exist - @rmd-writes @celeritas2997 , the popcorn squad and others. wouldn't be writing without your support!

2. the writers who have trusted me to beta for them - @heartstringsduet @basilsunrise @rmd-writes i think i'm forgetting some (so sorry if so). michelle, being with you through first aid was such an amazing experience, and i feel so lucky to have seen you develop as a writer!

3. the people who have read my fics and encouraged me including the wip wednesday and seven sentence sunday tags! - i literally would not be anywhere without you. you actually give me life.

4. the friendships i've made on discord with people who just wanna know me for me and share little snippets of their lives - @reyesstrand and @heartstringsduet the little squirrel photos y'all send me are soul soothers for real! @st-elle-ar and @clottedcreamfudge and @lightningboltreader and @birdclowns for the cat pics! @howtosingit for your commentary and spoiler services 💜

5. the grace given to me by @carlos-in-glasses and @actual-sleeping-beauty - you two are so kind and encouraging and tell me all about your knitting projects even when i go missing for weeks on end. thank you for being my friends <3 and i don't even think you guys know you are both my yarn obsessed friends but you ARE.

6. everyone who has trusted me enough to collab with them on projects - the legends on never the same twice, @rmd-writes @strandnreyes. i loved working with you and i hope you had a positive experience! looking forward to more collabs in 2025.

7. the document gremlins, betas and sensitivity readers i've collected this year - @rmd-writes @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader @celeritas2997 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut ty ty ty ty some of those fics were in danger of being lost forever but we revived them!

8. @she-walked-away for making me laugh with your hilarious posts and olympia2997 who apparently doesn't exist on tumblr but leaves the most unhinged comments of all time on my fics.

9. everyone who has translated my fics or made art or gifs this year! inspired by you and in awe of you! @donghaian @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @guardian-angle22 i know there are more i'm so sorry if i've not listed you here!!!

10. everyone in the various fandoms i'm in who have created brilliant works in 2024! i am inspired by your work more than you know <3

2025 - things i want to do (in fandom, in no particular order)

1. read more, and read more broadly. expand my horizons a bit. read things that are a touch outside my go-to zones just to test the waters. read stuff by new authors!

2. spend time co-writing because that's actually my favourite thing to do. i have some things in the pipeline with a couple of people which i hope work out!

3. finish. the. damn. fic. (eurotrip). IT'S SO FREAKING CLOSE.

4. spend more time with my 2019-2021 beloveds - alex and henry. write more rwrb fic. engage in the fandom a bit more.

5. finish the ring-in 2.0 within 1 month of the LS finale (weep).

6. take one hand off the wheel with fandom relationships - my therapist tells me i need to stop trying to control how everyone feels about me and instead let people show me the kind of friendship they're interested in maintaining. scary because i think i may lose some people along the way but OH WELL WE BALL.

7. worry less about the engagement! god! i need to stop looking so much! *shakes fist at self*

8. write a little more regularly with less word count expectations.

9. learn how to be okay with smaller comments (from myself). sometimes i feel terrible if i don't write a damn essay but sometimes it stops me from reading which is horrible!

10. be a better fandom contributor than i was in 2024 - i think continuous growth is important and i'm always open to feedback (as long as it's constructive and genuine)! my mission is to always make a positive contribution and to make people feel good about themselves, and if i can even do that for one person in 2025, i think i will achieve this goal.

ty for the 2024 wrapped tags @hippolotamus @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @emsprovisions @nancys-braids @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @firenati0n @cha-melodius. you are real ones! consider this a tag back if you would like to do a 2024/2025 10 things edition.

[supernova41st]

ok but like I loved ur mercy!reader post and considering my love for crossovers ESPECIALLY character interactions I was wondering if u could do more???

Nerf this! ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎

Tf2 x Dva!Reader

A/n: If you’re not familiar with Dva then I suggest watching the Dva Cinematic. It’ll sum her character up and she’s a fun one at that ^^. A lot of my tf2 x ow fics are platonic so unless I outright say that it’s romantic you can imagine it however you’d like, enjoy <33

Warnings: None

Divider creds: Sister-Lucifer on Tumblr

Engineer

Since you guys were forced to share a workshop it looks pretty similar to the bedroom from Sam and Cat, one side being dull and grey with little to no decorations while the other is pink with cute plushies/figurines around the place.

After a bit you grew closer, sitting around in silence while working on your projects got pretty awkward so it was about time before someone broke the ice.

“You ever name your bots?”

“Huh, don’t think so.. you?”

“Yes! I call her Tokki, she’s cute isn’t she?”

“And one hell of a shade of pink”

Engineer is really competitive when it comes to you, being that you both are engineers/inventors. You guys have fun 🫶

“That’s 10 kills! Can you do that grandpa?”

“Haha! Just wait til’ you see what my other babies can do”

Will gladly show you some old tricks that he’s learned over the years since he’s more experienced. Plus he’s the only person you’ll ever trust your dear Tokki with.

Speaking of which-your self destruct sequence is always done by him, any of the other mercs will FUMBLEEE

“how do I friggin do this?? Is there like a joystick I can move around?”

•

“Too many dæm buttons on this zing! I zon’t know what I’m doing”

•

“pulls out glasses your mouse controls the small pointer on ze screen, use it to-WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS MEAN?”

“IT MEANS YOU’RE STUPID HEAVY.”

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Team kill with Self Destruct

“How’s that for a shade of pink?”

•

“Definitely haven’t seen somethin’ like that in my years.”

•

“Thanks Tae-I mean!-Engie!!”

Domination

“Too slow, peepaw!”

•

“Hope that wasn’t hard on your arthritis -3-“

Medic

Medic gets so excited when you’re on a mission with him. Loves pocketing you, partly because you’re the nicest when it comes to asking for help

“CMON THEN DOCTOR”

“heal me pussy.”

“DOCTOR, HEAL NOW”

“heals plss 😚”

He also enjoys how you’re full of surprises, he thought you were gonna die when your mech broke down but no! You jumped out that thing and pistol whipped the whole team’s faces off like the diva you are.

“PISTOL TO THE FACE!!”

“Y/n slow down 🙂”

He loves you but you overstimulate him.

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Ubering

“LETS GO!”

•

“RAHHH!! GET OUTTA MY GAME!”

Spawn Interactions

“Vill you surprise me out there, Hase?”

“Of course! You know I always do ^.^”

•

“Nett mech”

“Nett coat!!”

“Aw, vy thank you”

Spy

This ho won’t stop talking shit. Every time he opens his mouth about you it’s him complaining about how “you’re too young to be on this team” or “your ‘experience’ with video games doesn’t serve a war” or “stop playing video games y/n we’re in the middle of battle”.

He avoided you for the most part until you decided to make some small talk while you both awkwardly stood in an elevator, big mistake 😬

“I bet your gun does a ton of DPS”

“Must you always muster up your video game vocabulary with reality?”

“Must you always be so petty?? 😒 old Frenchie fuck you and your dps gun”

Clearly he’s not fond of youngin’s joining the team. Though he does find you more “tolerable” than scout since you at least have some experience with fighting in a war (kinda)

He hates that he has to crawl to you for tech help, he doesn’t know what he’s doing-you’re the tech expert!!

“Y/n.. something is wrong with the radio.”

“..oookkayyy??”

“Can you help?”

“LOL!!”

Meetings with you always end up in him taking your game console away, he just won’t leave you alone 🙄

“Hey! I was in the middle of beating a boss!!”

“You’ll have it back once you listen to what I have to say, girl.”

“Ughh fine”

Interactions/Voicelines 🎤

Spawn interactions

“Don’t you think your little pink robot will be a distraction?”

“That’s.. just the way I like it!”

Blaster light gun kill

“See that, Spy? Pure skill.”

Spy callout

“Ping!Ping!Ping! Spy around here!!”

[mononijikayu]

chapter (4) — we go.

GENRE: alternate universe - actors/celeb au!

WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 and above, actors/singers au!, romance, fluff, minor angst, slow burn, humour, slice of life, will they won't they, light-hearted, flirting, playful, possessiveness, teasing, explicit content, possible, kissing, sexual content, innuendos, drama, feels, hurt/comfort, falling in love, love, happy ending, actor/singer! sukuna, actress/celeb! reader;

WORD COUNT: 3.6k words.

NOTE: i know i have a rule about not posting too much now since i just posted loml. but i really need to have more self—control you guys!!! i gotta work on this~ i think if you guys like it, it makes up for my constant constant posting. in any case, this was from the vault, pre-written a while back. so you know.....its stale!!! but still i hope you guys like it. much love everyone 🫶

TAGLIST: @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @v3nd3ttal3on, @r0ckst4rjk, @theshxaverse, @cheescakebroom, @kariatenoh , @ggukfikz, @sukunadckrider ;

masterlist

hey lover! series

YOU MOVED A LOT OF THINGS AROUND TO BE HERE. But you would rather be here than in a stuffy plane for the next day anyway. You sipped your beer, satisfied as your Sukuna shirt merch moved along with your little groove. The night of Sukuna’s concert finally arrived, and the atmosphere was electric.

The venue was packed with fans buzzing with excitement, each one eager to see him perform live. You had managed to snag a private box for the event, a little piece of luxury where you could enjoy the show away from the crowd while still being close enough to feel the energy radiating from the stage.

As the lights dimmed, the crowd erupted into cheers, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. The sound of the guitar riff echoed through the arena, and Sukuna made his grand entrance, the spotlight illuminating him as he stood at the center of the stage, confidently gripping the mic. He looked every bit the rock star in his stylish outfit, and your heart raced at the sight of him.

From your box, you watched in awe as he effortlessly commanded the stage, his charisma pulling everyone in. As the music flowed, Sukuna began to scan the audience, and to your surprise, his gaze landed on your private box. His eyes lit up with recognition, and a huge grin spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back, your cheeks flushing slightly as you waved. The moment felt electric, and as if the entire venue held its breath, fans below began to notice the interaction. Whispers spread like wildfire, followed by excited shouts and gasps.

“Did he just smile at someone in the box?!”

“OMG, it’s Y/N! He’s looking right at her!”

“ISN’T SHE SUPPOSED TO BE IN PARIS RIGHT NOW?!”  

“WHAT THE FUCK, SHE DELAYED HER FLIGHT???”

“GUYS HE’S MELTING HE’S BEING CHEESY OH MY GOD!”

The energy in the crowd shifted, amplifying as they realized what was happening. Screens around the venue captured the moment, broadcasting your shared smiles across the big screens, and fans lost it. The sound of excited screams filled the air, and it felt like the entire arena was reacting to the undeniable chemistry between you two.

“Look at that! They’re totally a thing!” one fan shouted, waving a sign that read “Y/N & Sukuna Forever!”

You laughed, slightly embarrassed but thrilled at the reception. Sukuna, clearly enjoying the moment, leaned into the performance, still occasionally glancing over at you, his smirk not wavering. It was like he was feeding off the crowd’s excitement as much as they were feeding off his energy.

“Can you believe this?” you said to your friend who joined you in the box. “They’re all going wild just because he’s looking this way!”

“I mean, can you blame them? It’s a whole rom–com moment happening live!” your friend teased, nudging you playfully.

You roll your eyes, hiding how flustered you were. “Yeah, yeah, we get it.”

As the concert continued, Sukuna would steal glances your way, each time eliciting louder cheers from the audience. The more he performed, the more he incorporated little winks and smiles directed at your box, and you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world.

During a particularly upbeat song, Sukuna jumped down to the edge of the stage, getting even closer to the crowd. He pointed at you, and the fans erupted again, screaming as if he’d just proposed on stage.

“HE POINTED AT HER!” 

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD — HE’S DOWN BAD???”

“HE  SO LOVES HER, THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR!”

“WHAT IF THEY’RE GETTING MARRIED?!”

“FRIENDS MY ASS??? JUST KISS HER SUKUNA, DAMN!”

As the chorus hit, Sukuna broke out into a playful dance, bringing more attention to your box. You felt your face heat up as you waved again, this time with a mix of shyness and excitement. The audience was eating it up, chanting your name mixed with his, a rhythm that echoed throughout the venue.

By the end of the concert, the energy was still palpable, and the crowd was buzzing with excitement. As Sukuna finished his final song, he took a moment to look around, soaking in the atmosphere. His gaze found yours one last time, and he blew you a kiss before bowing dramatically to the roaring crowd.

The fans around you lost it, squealing and cheering as if the arena had just witnessed a historical moment.

After the show, you found yourself flooded with messages and notifications. Fans were posting clips, photos, and every angle of the moment that had unfolded during the concert. 

“Sukuna and Y/N are officially the cutest couple!” one tweet read. 

Another captioned a photo, “When the rock star notices you, and the world stops!”

You couldn’t help but grin, realizing that this night would only deepen the playful speculation around you both. As you left the venue, you felt a wave of joy wash over you, knowing that every little moment you shared with Sukuna was turning into something special for both of you and the fans.

Backstage, Sukuna approached you, a wide grin still plastered across his face. “Did you see their reaction?” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I think they might have liked it a little too much.”

“Just a little.” you replied, your heart racing. “You’re unbelievable! You really know how to work a crowd, darling! Well done you!”

He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What can I say? It’s all about showmanship… and having the best company.”

Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. The energy backstage still crackled with the high of the performance, and your pulse raced just being near him. His eyes, sharp and gleaming with amusement, locked onto yours as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“Speaking of the best company,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I think you owe me a little celebration, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you met his gaze with a playful glint of your own. “Is that so? What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

His grin widened, showing off his fangs. "Oh, something intimate, doll." he purred, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you against his firm chest. His fingers traced light circles along your lower back, sending sparks through your body.

Your breath hitched, but you managed to keep your voice steady. "You want a reward for being irresistible on stage? Or just for being... you?"

He chuckled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. "Why not both? I think I deserve it, don't you?" His hand traveled to the back of your waist. 

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding at the intensity in his gaze. "Maybe... maybe you do. I…I do owe you dinner before I go to Paris.”

He grinned at you. “Sounds like a treat.”

➽──────────❥

YOU WERE STILL EXHAUSTED, HAVING JUST LANDED IN L.A. But you supposed that’s just how life is for you. Sukuna was probably on a plane to Asia by now, to do the Asian leg of the tour. So his phone would be off. Still, you messaged him, telling him he should get a good rest and that he should eat. Another text, wishing him good luck for his upcoming concert in two days. And another to remind him to call you when he can.  

A few weeks after the concert, you found yourself on the set of a popular  late night talk show, to promote your latest stage play work. Everything in you was just buzzing with excitement with the right hint of nerves. You were there to promote your latest project—a film that had just wrapped production—and the buzz from Sukuna’s concert was still fresh in everyone’s minds. Fans and media alike were eager to know more about your budding connection with the rock star.

As the cameras rolled and the host welcomed you onto the stage, the audience erupted into cheers. You waved, feeling a rush of adrenaline. The conversation started off smoothly, discussing your film, the challenges you faced during production, and the amazing cast you had worked with.

Then came the question that made your heart race. “So, Y/N, we all saw you at Sukuna’s concert a couple of weeks ago! It’s your first time attending a Sukuna special, wasn’t it? How was that experience for you?”

You smiled, reminiscing about the electrifying atmosphere. “Oh, yes. It is the first time. It was absolutely incredible! Sukuna is such a talented performer, and the energy in the venue was unmatched. I had a blast!”

“But I heard that you had a schedule before this, you had something going on in Paris?”

“I did, yeah. So it was for an ambassadorship shoot for a brand I’ve worked for a while and I had to go already and the invite, it was really last minute because I wasn’t really sure I’d make it.” You giggled as you saw the picture of you beside your friend on the screen. “My original flight was around the time the concert was happening. So, I was just like, ‘fuck it, we’ll sleep on the plane’; I called Sukuna, he already for a long time reserved a box for me.”

“That is just next level sweet, because he didn’t even know you were going to say yes and he still reserved that private box for you.” The host grinned as the people swooned over the revelation. “That must have touched you a lot.”

“It did.” You admitted, smiling from ear to ear. “Sukuna was just happy to see me there and I couldn’t be more thankful to just be welcomed and be a part of his world for a little while you know? It was amazing.”

The host nodded, clearly intrigued. “And speaking of Sukuna, I couldn’t help but notice he posted a rather adorable picture of you two after the concert. What’s the story behind that?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You hadn’t expected to be asked about the picture so directly. “Oh, um… well, we were just having a fun moment backstage after the show….a lot of adrenaline left off from the stage!” you stammered, trying to maintain your composure.

The host leaned in, a teasing glint in their eye. “Just a fun moment, huh? Because it looked a little more than just fun to me! Fans are shipping you two harder than ever! How does it feel to have that kind of attention?”

You chuckled nervously, glancing at the screen where the picture was displayed. It showed you and Sukuna laughing together, a casual yet intimate moment that captured the chemistry between you. “I mean, it’s nice to have fans that are supportive, and I think it's fascinating how people are really interested in it all. ” you said, trying to play it cool. “But we’re really important to each other. He’s my darling and I’m his doll. We’re great together.”

The audience erupted in playful laughter and cheers. “Great together indeed. Cause both of you look like you’re ready for a rom-com!” the host chimed in, smirking.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. But you grin. “I mean, aren’t we already doing a rom–com in Jujutsu Kaisen? Your lover sacrifices everything to be with you and becomes the King of Curses for you? A keeper!”

“Right?” the host grinned, clearly loving the playful banter. “But fans can’t help but wonder if there’s something more you’d like to show for it, especially after that concert moment. You know, the whole ‘knight in shining armor’ vibe.”

“Okay, okay, I see how it is!” you said, laughing to cover your flustered state. “I can’t deny that he has a way of making things fun. My darling’s just like that. But well, perspective’s important!”

The segment continued, but you could feel the teasing energy lingering. After the show, social media exploded with clips of your interview, and fans were buzzing with excitement over every little interaction you had with Sukuna.

Later that evening as you head to dinner, you waited out the traffic by scrolling through your SNS feed, you noticed a new post from Sukuna. It was a picture of you both from the after tge concert. You were both back stage and he held your face close, still in the zone from adrenaline of the stage. Though this time he added a cheeky caption:

“Who knew my lucky charm could steal the spotlight? Just saying, Y/N, you’d make an amazing concert partner! Thanks for coming, doll! 🎶’

You felt your face flush as you read through the comments. 

“THEY’RE OFFICIALLY DATING! I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES!”

“Sukuna is just down right down, and I’m here for it!”

“Someone get these two a rom–com deal ASAP!”

“SUKUNA CAN YOU FIGHT??? Y/N MY BELOVED <3”

“YO HE’S SMILING SO HARD IN THAT PHOTOOOOO, HES DOWN BAD!!!”

Your heart raced at the playful nature of his post and the overwhelming response from fans. As the notifications continued to flood in, you decided to send Sukuna a quick message.

You’re such a dork. Can’t believe you posted that!

He replied almost instantly, What can I say? I like posting about you, doll! Besides, you looked amazing that night. Can’t help it. I gotta make no names jealous of me.

Feeling a mix of giddiness and slyness, you typed back, Thanks, bubs. I’m pretty sure everyone’s jealous of me too. Because they like you a lot. And I’m with you. But then again, people are just guessing.

Let them think what they want, he replied with a wink emoji. To be fair, doll, that’s all part of the fun for me. And who knows? Maybe there’s something more. Always a lot of room for you, doll.

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication, and you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for both of you. The playful teasing, the chemistry, and the supportive friendship were all creating something special, and you found yourself excited about what was yet to come.

As the days went on, you embraced the fun of the speculation, realizing that maybe, just maybe, there was something more blossoming between you and Sukuna that you both were yet to fully explore.

➽──────────❥

YOU WERE EXCITED TO RETURN TO TOKYO. Not only because you missed seeing your extended family, but because you were going to finally reveal the months of hard work that bore the next season of Jujutsu Kaisen. You like to think that this season is the one you were most proud of. Not only because you finally got to play more than flashback scenes, but also the first meeting of Hiromi and Sukuna in a thousand years. You know that the fans would be just as excited as you. 

As you walked out of your car, stunning in your bright silver embroidered kimono, you were just waving towards all the fans you could see. Everyone’s excitement was palpable, you know that much.. The red carpet was packed with fans, media, and of course, the cast. 

You and Sukuna finally meet each other on the red carpet, looking stunning and greet each other with the warmest smiles and greetings. You both were surely ready to celebrate the launch of the new season. Fans lined the streets, holding signs and screaming for their favorite characters, and the energy was electric.

After the screening, the cast gathered for a Q&A session, with reporters firing off questions about the new season, character arcs, and behind-the-scenes fun. The mood was lively, and everyone was clearly enjoying themselves.

Then came the infamous game of “Fuck, Marry, Kill” and you knew it was only a matter of time before the question landed in your laps.

The red carpet host grinned as they turned to you first. “Alright, Y/N, let’s start with you! Who would you Fuck, Marry, and Kill from these cast? Sukuna, Nanami and Mahito.”

You paused for a moment, a playful glint in your eyes. “Hmm, let’s see… I’d have to marry Sukuna, Fuck… maybe Nanami, and kill—sorry but Mahito–kun! Sorry Nana–kun, Don’t have a choice!”

Laughter erupted from the audience, and you could hear the cheers from fans who were thrilled by your answer. But it didn’t stop there. The host turned to Ryomen Sukuna, a mischievous grin on their face. “Alright, Sukuna, your turn! Who do you choose? Y/N, Uraume and Naoya.”

Sukuna smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Easy. Marry Y/N, Fuck Uraume and uhhhhhh…..kill—Naoya Zenin! No apologies!”

The crowd went wild. The laughter and applause swelled as fans processed the fact that both of you had chosen to marry each other.

“Did you hear that?!” someone shouted from the audience. “They want to marry each other!”

“Wait, are they actually dating?! Are they really!?” another fan exclaimed, their voice rising in excitement.

You exchanged amused glances with Sukuna, both of you trying to keep straight faces amidst the chaos.

“We’re just interesting together!” you insisted, giggling as you waved your hands dramatically as if to emphasize your point, but the playful glint in your eyes said otherwise.

The host chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “Right, sure! Just friends who want to marry each other—totally believable!”

As the cheers and laughter continued, the excitement reached a fever pitch. Fans were snapping photos and tweeting in real-time, the clips of your answers flooding social media.

“OMG, did Sukuna and Y/N just confirm they’re in love?!” one tweet read.

“They're the ultimate power couple!” another one chimed in.

“I’m officially declaring them a couple!”

The energy was infectious, and as you and Sukuna tried to maintain your composure, you could see the delight in each other’s eyes.

As the panel wrapped up, you found yourself walking out with Sukuna, surrounded by the buzz of excitement. “Well, that was something, isn’t it?” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe we just did that!”

“Hey, they asked the right questions, doll.” he replied with a smirk. “And I meant every word!”

You felt your cheeks flush, both from the teasing atmosphere and the undeniable chemistry that hung between you. “You’re ridiculous, darling.” you said, nudging him playfully.

“Maybe, doll. But at least we’re entertained, don’t you think?” he shot back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You shook your head, smiling. “I suppose so.”

As the night continued, you both enjoyed the attention, the playful speculation, and the excitement surrounding the premiere. It felt like the perfect blend of friendship, chemistry, and the thrill of the unknown, and you couldn’t help but wonder just where this journey would take you both next.

Later that night, after all the excitement of the premiere had settled, you found yourself scrolling through Twitter, still buzzing from the energy of the event. Your timeline was flooded with clips from the Q&A, including the moment you and Sukuna had declared your “marriage” to each other. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the reactions pouring in.

Feeling a playful urge, you decided to quote-tweet the video. “Just a casual night at the premiere! 😂💍 #JujutsuKaisenSeason2Premiere”

Almost immediately, the notifications started flooding in, and the laughter continued as your friends from the cast began to chime in.

“@Y/NTheOne Can’t believe you both chose each other! Are we taking bets on the wedding date?” Yuji (@YUJIITAAA) teased, adding a winking emoji. “@ItsRyoSukuna, unc! You better watch out, grandma and grandpa would wanna know when the wedding is!"

“@Y/NTheOne Next time, maybe choose someone a little less deadly for your ‘marriage’ or something!” Nobara (@BARABARA²)quipped, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “But hey, at least you’ll have a killer wedding party!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their banter, but that wasn’t the end of it. Maki Zenin joined the conversation, tweeting, “@Y/NTheOne Just remember: If you get married, I’m the one picking the outfits. No pressure!”

“@ZZZZZMaki If you’re in charge, I’m definitely eloping!” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.

Even the official Jujutsu Kaisen account (@JJKOFFICIAL_EN) jumped in, tweeting, “#JJKFamily is all about love! Who else is rooting for our favorite couple?” The hashtag started trending, and fans went wild, eagerly discussing the playful exchanges.

As the notifications kept pouring in, you could see Sukuna (@ItsRyoSuku) had also quote-tweeted the video, simply stating. “Only label needed is #MyDoll, you know?.” The simplicity of his tweet only fueled the fire further, and you could hear the collective gasps from fans as they interpreted it in a million ways.

With each new tweet, your excitement grew, but so did the teasing from your castmates. “@Y/NTheOne I swear if you don’t invite us to the wedding, I’m crashing it!” Gojo jokes, adding a laughing emoji. “Gotta involve your work hubby!”

You rolled your eyes, a smile plastered on your face. “@GojoRuRu7 I’ll let you be the best man if you promise to keep the sunglasses on at all times.”

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a DM from Sukuna. You’re really good at riling up flames. Love it, doll.

You smiled at his message, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. It works because you’re so good, bub. But I’m glad we’re riling it up more. It’s fun.

He replied almost instantly, Fun? You call this fun? I call it now — this is the start of our next big project. Reality show, anyone?

With a laugh, you typed back, As long as I get to pick the outfits!

Just then, your friend and castmate Shoko (@SHOSHOKO)chimed in, adding more fuel to the fire. “@Y/NTheOne And you know we’ll all be tuning in for that show! Would watch the chaos unfold any day!”

The laughter and teasing continued throughout the night, with fans and castmates alike enjoying the playful banter surrounding your so-called “marriage.” It was clear that you and Sukuna had unwittingly become a part of a larger narrative, one that thrilled both your fans and castmates.

As you continued to interact with everyone online, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and joy. The playful teasing only added to the fun atmosphere, and you looked forward to what the future might hold—both for your career and your friendship with Sukuna.

The night concluded with a group chat among the cast, where the jokes and memes continued to fly. “@Y/NTheOne Ready for the wedding planning? I’m bringing the snacks!” Yuji sent, eliciting more laughter from everyone. "My mom and my grandma are ready to help out!"

“@Y/NTheOne Don’t forget to send me the dress code! I want to look fabulous!” Nobara added.

You sat back, grinning as you took it all in. This whirlwind of fun, laughter, and playful speculation was something you never wanted to end, especially with Sukuna by your side. The unexpected bond you were forming felt like the start of something beautiful, whether it was for the fans or just the two of you.

[atsuwiee]

"...did you even like it?"

in which your boyfriend, ricky, wonders if you even enjoyed your day with him or did he just completely destroy it.

pairing: model!ricky x non-showbiz!gn reader genre: fluff, angst (if u squint), oneshot, self-indulgent fic :3

warnings: mentions of makeup, written in third person, slight cursing, grammatical errors, not proofread xian's note: first zb1 fic ?!?! holy moly forgive the errors as well it's currently 2am-3am in the making of this (fic under the cut!)

"check this, it'll suit you." ricky suggests as he holds a lip tint tester from the racks of the store. you sighed at him as if he wasn't already holding three shopping bags. "ricky, i still have that one lipstick you gave me, i haven't finished that yet." you say with a small smile. "that was a month ago, how 'bout a new one?" he asks gently.

"try it on, here," he gently rubs his ring finger on the product to put on your lips but then was tapped on the shoulder. ricky's motions to you abruptly stop. there were a few people behind him and you already knew what was happening. "you're ricky? shen ricky?" one of the girl asks.

well, in ricky's attempts to go unrecognized- most of the time he fails, a pair of sun glasses failing him because of his recognizable neck tattoo and flashy blonde hair color. ricky could not control the situation but only looked back and nodded. "ah! may we have a picture?" one of them said as ricky could only agree. you took a step back at a soon forming crowd, not wanting to be present or posted on the media. it was already known ricky was taken the public never knew who exactly.

in the midst of everything, ricky noticed every move you did. to when you lowered your head, letting go of his hand, stepping out of the makeup store; he noticed it all as he was smiling for cameras, deep down he was frowning knowing you had just separated yourself.

"i'm sorry but i have to get going," he says politely as he heads out and in a hurry rushes back to you who just stayed outside of the shop. "there you are" he says in relief. "sorry that happened" he says as he lowers his head. you smile at him and grab his hand again. "it's alright, i know these things happen," you say with a small chuckle. "you're very... hm... recognizable to say the least" you joked as he only tightened his grip onto your hand, walking around again at the mall.

ricky points at a display, an expensive necklace.

"y/n here," he says and scoots you over to him. "these would suit your earrings" he suggests again with a small smile. you look at the jewels in awe but his offers were now all too much. "no" was the word that only slipped out your mouth.

he looked dumbfounded. "no?!" he almost scoffs at your words as you sighed. "come on, i'm buying it for you anyways" you shake your head again. "i would love to, but oh my fucking god ricky, we've bought too much" you point out and it makes him almost frown at the thought he couldn't spoil you as much now. you chuckle at his antics and give a kiss on his cheek. "let's head to dinner now, yeah? i'm afraid staying in here longer will drive you to buy the whole mall" he chuckles at your statement but nods, taking your hand.

as you both walked, the same thing happens again, a few people coming up to him and asking for a picture or trying to get to talk to him. this wasn't new to you as he was famously known for being a model and you were almost used to it but you also wanted to keep yourself private from the public. you back away again and ricky quickly tries to wrap it up with these people to get back to you. he knew you hated crowds.

it happened during dinner again. mid-conversation with him some fan of his had tried to come closer.

"ricky-ah may i--?" "...so you were saying, dear?" ricky diverts his attention immediately back to you, driving the fan away and listening to your stories you didn't get to tell him in a while.

arriving back home, your feet were almost sore from being too hyper and checking every store but energy drained from the day. ricky helps you get ready for bed knowing how tired and drained you must've been trying to avoid the crowds that approached him.

as you tossed and turned in bed to get comfy, he only stared at the ceiling. after long silence, he taps on your shoulder.

"y/n? dear? may i ask you something?" "go ahead, dove, what is it?" you ask in between a yawn. his heart only beats rapidly when he hears the nickname dove- something he still couldn't get used to.

"...did you even like it? like, did you even like today?" he asks anxiously waiting for your answer. "did you even enjoy? and no, i don't want you to say 'of course', i want... i want you to be honest" you turn to shift positions, fully facing him as his voice softened even more and a small frown forms in the corner of his lips. "i did, ricky. i absolutely did, i missed you so much. i missed our dates- i'm being honest when i say of course i enjoyed" you say then tilted your head as he spoke again.

"it's just- god, those fans were something- i know you hate crowds and i couldn't help but- you know... think you didn't like that date because-" "because of a situation you can't control? nonsense, ricky" you completed his thoughts and it never fails to amaze him that you always know what he'd say. he nods at your words and you pull him close to you under the covers.

ricky holds you as well, taking in the scent of your hair's shampoo. "you spoil me so much and i enjoy every second with you. going out or just lounging around, nothing could ever ruin it for me" you were quick to reassure him. ricky sighs in relief kissing the crown of your head.

"get to sleep, dove, i know you rarely rest" you say and he chuckles. "says the one who sleeps at four in the morning" you pinch his nose at his statement and he playfully winces.

after that, he gazes at you, lovingly.

"i love you, so much. so damn much" ricky speaks in a hushed voice and kisses your lips softly before letting the both of you rest. "i love you more, dove" you sigh and finally rest in his arms

"i love you most-" "shut it, ricky, get to sleep. i win."

he chuckles. once again, kissing your forehead and finally resting as well. ricky in a state of peacefulness as his soul intertwines with yours for the night.

[aroaceleovaldez]

I absolutely love your posts about Percy Jackson and disability, especially by mentioning he'd make a good writer. Specifically, if he took some marine biology courses, he'd not like it all since it's actually a pretty difficult class and may or may not ask him to dissect marine life. Also, Rick's recon about the college stitaution is asinine. At that rate, make Percy do self-paced online/correspondence courses than that.

I totally agree - with New Rome University's original intention and the way it's set up, it makes sense for Percy to pursue that specifically, and particularly to be the one who wants to go there and suggesting it to Annabeth, because it's set up to be an accessible college geared towards disabled students. But now it a.) apparently isn't it's own legitimate college and requires classes outside of NRU, which completely defeats the point of it being Percy's ideal option entirely because he didn't think he'd be able to take standard college courses BECAUSE of his disability/being a demigod (which for purposes of the metaphor are the same thing) (and implies accessible schooling is less legitimate) AND b.) is coded as straight up being discriminatory towards Percy! By denying him access for something beyond his control unless he jumps through a bunch of hoops (very analogous to ableist discrimination)! WHICH AGAIN DEFEATS THE WHOLE PURPOSE OF NRU BEING A THING IN THE NARRATIVE! Because why suddenly flip from the accessible college to the college being explicitly ableist???

But yeah, I don't think Percy would be particularly fond of marine biology classes - adhd brains are not great at sitting through slow lectures of information they already know, so if Percy is taking those classes because he already has familiarity with marine biology from his powers then he's gonna have an awful time. And then like you mentioned the requirements of the class are probably not well suited to him.

[byuntrash101]

final lap

reader x dom!sunwoo

smut | nsfw | mdni

racer!sunwoo is kinda mean and big, thigh riding, dry humping, sir kink, orgasm control, orgasm denial, hair pulling, begging, edging, praising, impact play, humiliation, degradation (slut, whore, bitch in heat), a tad of self degradation, multiple orgasm, creampie, cum play,

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

after a race there's only one thing that can ease sunwoo's nerves...

[❛ no ones here. we can be as loud as we want. ❜ + ❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

a/n: this is inspired by this ✨glorious post✨ sunwoo graced us with. when i saw it knew i had to write racer!sunwoo. look at those thighs!! tell me im not the only one losing it for the thighs and veiny forearms!!

There was something about the speed that put Sunwoo in a sort of trance. Ever since he was a boy he aspired to be a racer. It was his calling.

And tonight after winning the race of a lifetime is not different. 

Even now sitting in the changing rooms, after the press conference, after being handed out the platinum cup he was still feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He still felt the strain that was put on his body with every abrupt acceleration. He still felt his body shifting through every single dangerous turn. It was like he was still on the track, swallowing laps after laps, until the last one. 

This was Sunwoo’s experience after every race. And after every race he found that one thing was bringing him back down, pulling his mind out of the haze.

A quick jerk off.

You knew that. You knew that he liked to catch a few minutes of peace after a race to blow off some steam. But now that you’ve been dating for a few months you figured that maybe you could help him out this time. 

When you knock on the door while your heart is hammering against your ribs. You don’t want to come across as annoying but maybe he really does enjoy doing it himself.

“Come in” you hear the voice of your boyfriend from the other side, annoyance tinting his voice.

“Ah it’s you” he says, surprised features relaxing slightly upon seeing you.

You sigh in relief when he seems to not be bothered by your visit. You lightly strut over to where he is sitting, your skirt lightly flowing around you. Somehow he seems embarrassed.

“Hmm…y/n” he starts off hesitantly. “I’m not… done… here” he says carefully.

Instantly your eyes shift down to his crotch. You try your best not to look too avidly at the veiny forearms resting so close to his bulge and failing miserably as your tongue swipes over your lower lip.

“Yes about that…I came to offer my help” you announce wearing a bright smile.

“That’s cute, baby but no, it’s ok you know I…”

You knew Sunwoo was going to need a little convincing so you thought of a plan. Your hands swiftly went under your skirt and without an ounce of hesitation you slid your baby blue panties down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles.

Sunwoo cut himself off as he watched the blue article of clothing fall to the ground and how your skirt scooted up your waist as you lifted your legs to step out of it. You were never this bold with him and he felt himself twitch at the thought of knowing that the only thing that was guarding your precious center from his eager eyes was this skimpy little skirt.

“Please Sunwoo” you pouted as you walked up to him. “Let me help you” you whined as you straddled one of his thighs repressing a moan when you felt the thick leather of his racing gear press against your unclothed folds. 

Sunwoo watched you in awe, completely silenced by this brand new side of you he had never known.

You started to rock your hips on his thigh, hissing at the pleasurable friction. While Sunwoo let his hand slip on your thigh, fingers firmly wrapped around it.

You were not suspecting that if you still had a secret for Sunwoo it was the same for him. The reason why he always isolated himself after a race was because he didn’t have it in him to be the tender and affectionate lover he normally was. The adrenaline changed his brain chemistry and turned him into something a lot more primal. Something you might be scared of.

And right now you were making it very difficult for him to hold it off.

“Fuckkkk” he cursed under his breath when he saw the glistening mess you were making on his leg. And you felt his muscles tighten underneath you, making you whimper. 

Sunwoo sunk his nails in your fleshy thighs as he heard you, only being able to guess how swollen and pretty your pussy was, the skirt still hiding you from him. But somehow that made him even more riled up. He wanted to rip it off you right now. 

“Sunwoo, please” you asked one more time, your hands landing on his bulge, palming it lightly but before you could unzip his pants he catched your wrist in his hand. His grip was strong, a lot stronger than usual. When you raised your eyes to look at him, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and his gaze was dark, raw lust pooling in his orbs, the burning desire contorting his face in an almost painful expression.

“Y/n don’t make this hard for me” he breathed out, deep voice shaking slightly. Trying his best to keep the monster at bay.

“It’s okay” you start, smiling back at him. “You can be rough, I can take it” you assure. Sunwoo’s eyes go round in surprise. Did you pick up on why he was acting the way he was? Did you pick up on the side of himself he was so badly trying to hide from you?

“Y/n… I-” his grip grew even tighter around your wrist.

“Please. Sunwoo. I can handle it”

This is the last straw for the racer. He won one battle today. Maybe he can give this one to you.

As soon as he gives up the atmosphere around him changes, the tension goes up a notch.

Sunwoo let go of your wrist to grab a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it making your head fall back.

“Can you really handle me?” He hissed through gritted teeth while you felt his member twitch under your fingertips. Your breath is short, a hot wave of arousal rushing to your groin as you felt the delectable sting on your scalp.

“Yes sir” you reply in a mere whisper, your hips working themselves back on his thigh. Instinctively yearning for friction as your lust for him grew again.

Sunwoo smirked at the title. It was the first time you called him like that and he could see himself getting used to it very fast.

As you noticed Sunwoo’s change of attitude you started to rock yourself harder on his thighs. Making an even wetter mess.

“Good little whore” Sunwoo praised while his free hand went down to palm over his restricted bulge. Instantly your eyes snapped back down to avidly look at your boyfriend’s busy hand. But he tightens his grip around your hair, yanking it harshly to catch your attention.

“No.” he clicked his tongue. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes” he commanded and you obliged. “Show me how your slutty little cunt pulse on my thigh” he propped his chin to your skirt still resting over you, shielding you from his brown orbs.

Hesitantly you reached for the hem of your skirt and you slowly lift the thin fabric. Sunwoo’s smirk grows wider while his eyes take a darker tone, an evil glint lighting his gaze.

“What a good little slut” he praised in a low rumble, pressing harder on his cock, growling when he felt himself leaking precum for you.

“Come on harder” he ordered as he tensed his thigh again, hand leaving your hair to push on your hips, strong grip conducting each of your movements until your mind was only a hazy mess, mindlessly wrecking yourself on your boyfriend’s thigh.

“You gonna cum?”

“Yesss” you sing in bliss, feeling your lower stomach becoming tighter and tighter with the familiar build up. Sunwoo pressed harder on your hips while you moaned without restrain completely forgetting about the thin walls of the changing room.

“You gonna be a good girl?” he asked again, hands going softer on your side.

“Yessssss” you hissed, your release being within reach, your mind barely able to form the simple word.

“Then you’re not gonna cum” Sunwoo suddenly says and your half lidded eyes snap back to him. Your eyebrows meet on your forehead in need when you notice him being dead serious. “Only whores cum humping their boyfriend’s leg like a bitch in heat” his voice is cold, cutting, ruthless.

“Sunw- Sir… please” you whine, unable to stop the intoxicating back and forth.

“I said” he wraps both his hands around your narrow neck. “No” he firmly states. His hands barely press on your throat but the glacial eyes and the commanding tone is enough to bend your mind. You whine in defeat as your hips slowly come to a stop. Red, swollen and aching cunt visibly pulsating on the leather. 

Before you can even mourn the loss of your climax Sunwoo is back pulling at your hair.

“Up” he says, guiding you by the hair then pulling you down until you are on all fours. “Clean your mess” he shoves your face on the slimy puddle you left behind. You stick your tongue, gliding it over the smooth leather, ready to do anything for him. Completely fucked out your mind, you don’t think anymore only your body reacts.

In a matter of seconds you manage to completely erase any trace of the sinful thing you were doing moments ago, the taste of your own arousal making your head spin and your heart pound. 

“That’s my good girl” Sunwoo praised, drawing soothing circles on your heated cheeks. “Good girls get rewarded” he whispered as his gentle hand guided your face to his groin. You whimpered as you pressed your cheek to the concealed object of your desire. Your arousal dripping down your thighs.

“‘s that what you want baby”? his honey voice made your center quiver.

“Yess” you purred in bliss feeling the heat of his cock through the thick leather.

You heard him chuckle as his hand unzipped the racing pants. He shimmied them on his thigh and you saw the glorious print of his shaft under his gray briefs. You swallowed thickly, eager to finally lay eyes on him. He also pulled his underwear down revealing the thick member clapping against his stomach you lightly gasp in awe.

He lazily strokes it a couple times in his veiny fist while you watch in a trance.

Then he gets up and guides you to bend over the chair, both your knees on the cushion and your elbows resting to the back of it. With a flick of the wrist he flipped your skirt up your back to uncover your ass. He smacked his lips in anticipation while he guided his tip on your drenched folds. The hot tip glided smoothly over your already over sensitive clit. You held your breath while he teased you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from begging. 

“Such patience” he praised before you felt his large palm slap your ass cheek, the unexpected pain pulling a moan from your lips. 

“Want this cock baby?” he asked as he started to push himself in. 

“Yes please Sir” you politely ask, doing your best not to wiggle your hips to get him to fill you up faster. 

“Good girl” he moaned as he bottomed out. His tip perfectly pressing on your sweet spot with this angle. You hissed, your fingers curling around the back chair. “I’m going to fuck your brains out” he growled. And the promise made your stomach knot. 

He didn’t waste time to keep his word. He started to plow into you, pulling all the way out just to smash himself back in.

You started to squeal in pleasure as your cunt desperately held on to Sunwoo’s length rearranging your guts with every thrust.

“Good girl. That's it. Squeal for me” he grunted, strong grip bruising your hips. “No ones here. we can be as loud as we want.”

But everytime you grew closer to your release, every time he heard you go high pitched, every time he felt you pulse around him he would slow down, going down to a painfully slow rhythm. Thrusts merely teasing your eager walls as they pulsed and demanded more. 

It made his cock twitch inside you when he heard your desperate whimpers and your disappointed sighs. He loved to torture you. And he intended to toy with you just like this until you couldn’t take it anymore. Until you broke.

After what felt like hours you finally voiced out your frustration.

“Sir please” you started timidly.

“What baby?” he asked, his honeyed tone letting your ear the smirk that was spreading on his lips from behind you. “What’s wrong?” he fainted worry.

“Please…” you were out of breath, exhausted. “I want to cum” you sighed.

“Awww. Want? what an ugly word” he said as he completely stopped. Dick deep into you but completely still. Somehow this was even worse. You started to whine and wiggle your hips yearning for any kind of friction again, even the slow pace. You needed something, anything. 

“Please let me cum Sir” you pleaded, your voice trembling in need. When Sunwoo started to move slowly again a strangled moan escaped you.

“But baby only whores beg to cum like that” he says rubbing soothing circles over your ass as he picks up the pace ever so slightly, making your center quiver. “is that what you are?” 

You stayed silent, teeth sinking into your bottom lip while you tried to regain a semblance of sanity. But Sunwoo gave you one single violent thrust to keep you in your trance, earning a high pitched moan. 

“Are you a whore baby?” he repeated being as taunting as ever. 

And you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yess” you shouted in defeat. “I’m a whore Sir. I’m your little dirty whore” you started to push your ass back and forth on his cock, Sunwoo didn’t stop you he enjoyed seeing you break. “Now please fuck me like the fucking slut I am.” you sobbed, completely giving in.

Without another word he went back to the brutal and exhilarating pace. You completely lost it, abandoning your body and mind to his cock. You moaned and screamed without restrain. 

“Cum. Now, slut” he ordered as he landed a couple more spanks on your red ass. 

And the pain rocketed you over the edge. Diving head first in the blissful abyss. Walls quivering on Sunwoo’s thick dick. Climaxing so deliciously as he came inside you, delivering thick ropes of white thick cum inside your needy little hole that was milking him to the last drop. 

As soon as he pulled out your legs gave out and you collapsed on the chair, gooey cum lazily dripping out your worn out and shapeless cunt. 

Sunwoo stroked your hair affectionately.

“You were right baby” he pressed a kiss on your hairline “you handled me perfectly”.

a/n: thank you for reading guys. feedback is soooo greatly appreciated if you enjoyed drop a comment or an ask. i wuv u <3

[dr-spectre]

Hello everyone, I got some announcements to share and some plans for the future of this blog now that the Grand Fest is over and the news drought begins.

(LONG POST AHEAD!!!!)

I think going forward I'm gonna change how I approach myself acting online and be less "OH MY GOD HOLY SHITENWIOEDISIWIEOE GUYYS!!!"

Because to be honest with you all... I've been feeling very self conscious about the way that I've been acting online and I feel like I gotta channel my passion for Splatoon in a much more healthy and less EXTREMEEEEE way.

I am aware that um.... people have blocked me... and you know, that's to be expected of course when you are online and you're slowly building a following. Still really stings, though, and I think it's due to the fact that sometimes I can be sorta- "This is what happened, and if you disagree with me, you're an idiot and you're wrong!!!!!" When I make posts. And I don't wanna do that, and I don't want to come off as a gatekeeping fan that thinks lower of other people who might not know my stances very well. I wanna educate people and present my stuff as more of "Hey guys, this is what I think actually happened in this event. Feel free to take a look! I think this is really cool and I wonder what you guys think of this perspective that i have?"

And sometimes I can be pretty loud mouthed and stuff and I have talked shit towards certain characters. I remember one time I made a post where I said "what the fuck is wrong with Marie?" And said some stuff... I probably rubbed a lot of people the wrong way with that post... and other posts. I'm so sorry if I have made some of you upset in the past or have said some awful things about your favourite characters in the series...

As you guys probably know, I am passionate about Hypno Callie and I have very strong stances and opinions on her. And that leads to me get a bit... out of control. Callie is my biggest comfort character and to see certain people try and push this vile and disgusting event that happened to her... that she was kidnapped by Octavio and the Octarians when she was alone, and that he brainwashed her and forcibly put the shades on her, or he tricked her and he removed her memories too...

and I try to see the same event in a completely different lens... I see it as more of Octavio manipulating her in a more subtle way and due to Callie's poor mental state and desperation, she heard him out. Octavio used the shades as a way to control her more easily but he doesnt have full direct control over her because her influence helped motivate the Octarians. Octavio still wanted Callie to be... well... Callie. Plus, Callie was more than willing to help the Octarians as well, as she thinks they are cute. I do have evidence to back it up as well as articles and definitions explaining how hypnosis actually works and its limitations.

But this perspective gets compromised and put into question in my head when people keep pushing and pushing and PUSHING the other thing. Then it feels like I have to yell and get mad.... I've seen it as recently as when Blushing Tide came out and I looked at the YouTube comment section on one of the uploads and I just kept seeing people say "oh it's like Tidal Rush but without the brainwashing" or some shit like that idk. I dont remember it well but i know I saw the word floating around. (Don't look at YouTube comment sections. You won't get anything of value from them.)

Anyways, I also wanna cut back on swearing too because sometimes I border on being a hazbin hotel character and I DO NOT want myself to get to that level LMAO!

So what shall I be doing now that Splatoon 3 is officially wrapped up? Well... I wanna do more creative projects and fun stuff like that. I got good reception from my haikus for the Grand Fest and I think doing more stuff like that sounds really really fun!!! And it might actually give me a reason to finish stuff as well lol...

Like I have a God damn Splatoon 2 hero mode finale rewrite that's nearly done and it's been sitting on my Google docs since JULY!!!! I have also made plans to do a fan sequel to the Squid Sisters Stories that takes place in between Splatoon 2 and 3 because that time frame for the Squid Sisters has been barely touched upon. I'm also doing a personal project where it's basically what I want to see out of a Splatoon 4 and I've been really enjoying making that. I dont know if I would ever share it but... it's something to do for me at least.

I also wanna involve myself in the community more, I received an ask where someone said (I forgot who asked I'm so sorry) if I could do a thing where I receive Splatoon OCs and critique them. That sounds really fun!!!

Maybe i can do photo mode competitions or showcases!!! Where I choose a theme (Callie, water, Splatsville, etc) and people submit their photos and I critique them and showcase them to everyone!!! Does that sound like something people would be interested in?! I would love to know as virtual photography is a hobby I love to partake in and I wanna encourage more people to try it!

There is also other stuff i can do like going over the Idols outfits and rating them, but I don't have the motivation to do that at the moment and I know it's not gonna be as in-depth as the one I did for Callie.

Anyhow, that's basically what I have so far. I think im gonna slow down on posting and I'm gonna chill out. Or at least I'll try to chill out.

I've just been feeling incredibly guilty and kinda... sad that I've been acting in a certain way for a while. And I really wanna change that. I dont like making people upset and I don't wanna be the kind of Splatoon fan that puts down others who don't even know any better and don't know who I am....

But enough being sad, I wanna focus on the present and make sure that my future on here is bright!!!

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can I get more bg3 yandere, maybe what starts the obsession with the reader? Punishments?

A/N: Yes, more yandere coming up! (Wasn’t sure if you were referring to just the baddies list I posted or the companions, so I went with the main companions this time.)

And apologies for the wait… This was one hell of a week.

Yandere!BG3: What Triggers Their Obsession 

Astarion: 

Astarion is drawn to your innocence. 

At first, he thinks it must be an act, for someone to be so kind and open around a vagrant group of misfits they just met. 

But once he understands that’s just who you are, he feels he must protect that innocence by taking it all for himself. 

After all, he deserves it, doesn’t he? After two hundred years of slavery, he finally gets to possess some kindness of his own. 

Because that’s what you’d show him, isn’t it? You’d love him, understand him, and treat him the way he so longs to be treated. And all he has to do… is make you his to get it. 

Ascended! Astarion: 

Ascended Astarion is drawn to your inner fire, the way you don’t submit when he demands you ‘bow’. 

Initially, he finds it rather amusing that such a helpless thing like you dare defy him. Then he becomes irritated before being overcome with righteous anger. How dare you continue to thwart his plans? You shall pay, indeed. 

He wants you begging, pleading on your knees for his mercy. He wants to be the only one with the power to grant such benevolence to you.  

You will know his name, you will know his power. Your insolence will not last long.

Gale: 

Gale is drawn to your inquisitive nature, how you always seem so fascinated by any knowledge he has to share. 

No one, not even his students, has ever looked up at him with those big doe eyes the way you do. 

You appreciate him, in a way no one’s ever appreciated him before. 

He’s always played second fiddle, to greater wizards, to his goddess, but not to you. Never to you. 

He needs you to need him. He wants your awe but should push come to shove, he’ll settle for your fear. 

Godhood! Gale: 

Godhood Gale finds you so impressively driven. Your bold choices and lack of apprehension call him to you. 

On one hand, he wants to empower you, to help you soar even further than your wildest dreams. On the other hand, he wants dominion over your confidence- he should be the one to grant it to you. You couldn’t possibly command your own destiny. He’s a God, after all, he should have reign of it. 

Just let him take control, he swears it’s only for your good. Gale would never overstep your boundaries. He swears on Mystra’s honor. 

Wyll: 

Wyll wants to protect and cherish you like he believes he’s always been destined to do. 

For him, he was always burdened with this great privilege of being a hero. And you, you are the thing that makes everything he’s ever endured or sacrificed all worth it. 

You need him to save you. Sure, you’re capable, and yes, you could make it on your own, but why make it harder than necessary? Why not just let the man who would lay down his life for you, honor you and take care of you for the rest of your days?

You’re so sweet. You’re such a light in these dark, dangerous times. Wyll will ensure you’re safely hidden away from all the danger that lurks beyond. 

If that means Wyll is all you know of the outside world, then so be it. 

Karlach: 

Karlach is drawn to your spunk, the conviction you must possess to keep on fighting.  

You remind her so much of her younger self, always eager, always ready for the next challenge. But alas, that’s what she fears. 

Her eagerness blindsided her to the truth about Gortash. She didn’t see what was coming until it was too late. She can’t let that happen to you. She won’t. 

Don’t you understand? No one else out there in the cruel, cruel world would tell you the truth. They are all self-serving and undeserving of your intentions. 

Karlach knows her conditions aren’t ideal, living in hell never is. But please, try to understand. 

A lifetime spent in hell at Karlach’s side is much, much safer than a world spent alone on the surface. 

Shadowheart: 

Shadowheart is drawn to your inexperience, your childlike innocence in which you believe all that she tells you. 

She was always being taught that obedience mattered over intelligence. She thought such a statement was wrong but then, you came waltzing into her life. 

You exemplify compliance. Every word, every thought she has you take to heart like gospel. 

For you, there shall be no gods, no goddesses, no Shar or Selune to worship. 

There will only be you and her. 

La’zel: 

La’zel, despite herself, is drawn to your kindness, your simplicity. 

She thinks you are weak, and undeserving of her affections, yet she feels the need to seize you and shield you all the same.  

Your flesh is soft, your heart is malleable, and your mind is guileless. Without her intervention, you would surely perish an otherwise avoidable fate. 

No. She must keep you away from the others, away from their grasp. 

It would be futile to try and navigate the world without her. 

[shannonsketches]

I noticed that the element of the triforce that the individual characters are supposed to represent, is also their weakness. Zelda's wisdom is being stifled by doubt and lack of experience; she's eager to learn, but her zeal is not enough and relies on faith and Link to save the day. I'm not implying that wisdom and faith cannot go hand in hand, but she needs to be able to represent her element more. Maybe her wisdom is knowing when to wait and allow someone else to bear the task? But it takes away too much initiative from her. Ganon's element is power but he's the one who ends up losing almost every time. And Ganondorf on his own, isn't powerless! He's a king, he knows magic, he can wield almost any weapon, he's patient, conniving and intelligent and knows how to make best with what he has. He isn't weak! And yet, the whole split happened, because he was feeling powerless.

They locked themselves in a self-sabotaging cycle that's powered by doubt.

Yeah! So one of the reasons I really love the Triforce lore is that it’s a three-way mirror that reflects both what the user has and also what they need (very wizard of oz).

Ganondorf is a very powerful man, physically, and magically.

Politically, though, he’s next to helpless, which is an awful thing for a king to be. He’s a king of thieves in OoT, because the Gerudo are not a wealthy or thriving nation there. In-Game they don’t have a local living area like the other regions (or even a store — just one floating bombchu salesman in the middle of the desert) — they’ve got a post-war fortress full of guards, and a temple that is being used as a secret base Hylians can’t get to.

Consider also, Ganondorf is the most highly decorated of the Gerudo, and he’s not decked out in gold. He’s wearing mostly iron and topaz. Nabooru and Twinrova are the only ones who have gold fixtures/jewelry along with the higher ranked guards for their protective elements (which is why I think it could arguably be pale bronze or yellow brass, which is a common and highly durable gold alternative).

The Gerudo are implicitly just surviving in OoT, and Hyrule speaks of them like they’re monsters (except for the one guy in town who has a fetish). More than that, WW establishes that his real grief comes from the weather, which any mortal is powerless to control.

So Ganondorf is powerful as a person, but powerless as a king, which is literally the only thing he was born to be.

Be that as it may, though, he is a well-loved king, and a survivor, and a thief, so he also has to embody both wisdom and courage too!

Zelda is the most obvious mirror to Ganondorf. She is a very powerful woman politically and magically, but physically-- compared to Ganondorf -- she's terribly meek. That's the obvious read, that they're 1:1 Parallels, but her real weakness lies in her courage.

Zelda (in OoT) leans on her massive political power -- In the child timeline, she literally sees a foreign dignitary executed before he does anything wrong, based on a recurring dream she has.

Do you know how insane that is? Do you realize how powerful she is?

Ganondorf is not just some guy -- he's a foreign KING. He's a KING that a TEN YEAR OLD had EXECUTED based on VIBES.

And we think she embodies wisdom because her vibes were (as we, the audience know) correct. But it's actually because as an adult, she understands that none of it needed to happen that way. That the only reason Ganondorf was able to pull off his stunt and get the Triforce at all was because she tried to control the situation, sending Link to gather everything Ganondorf couldn't get himself and put it all precisely where Ganondorf needed it to be.

Despite being a child at the time, by the end of the story, by the time she's Sheik, Zelda is taking full responsibility for what happened, and is doing everything in her now extremely limited power to fix it. She's so sorry to need Link, and at the end of it all is desperate to give him another chance to be a kid, and to be innocent, and to be happy, because she realized so quickly that she never should've involved him, visions be damned. She knows none of it was his fault or his business, and she's mortified that she dragged him into it in her own attempt to control the weather.

These other two items shift in other games -- WW and Twilight Princess show us a Zelda with tremendous courage and very little power, physical or political. And then the Wild's era, despite removing the Triforce narrative, shows us a Zelda with immense power and terrible guilt and insecurity -- her power locked behind her fear, and she is only able to access both when she embraces courage.

Which brings us to Link.

Link, on the surface, is a third wheel in a chess game between ancients. But the reality is that he's the base of the prism. He's the foundation that reflects both of the others.

There are MANY different personalities for Link, and personally my favorite gag is that Link is simply too stupid to be scared, but that's just a gag -- because something I've come to really enjoy and respect about him is that he consistently displays fear. Link embodies courage because he is full of fear and chooses to fight anyway. Link leads a good life. He is comfortable, he has family, he has friends, he knows peace. What makes Link courageous is that he is willing to give up his access to all of that if it means that everyone else keeps theirs.

Link will lock himself in a room with the apocalypse if it means he's the only one who gets hurt, and it's not because he believes this is his sacred duty, or his life's purpose -- he'd much rather be at home chasing chickens around or riding his pony through some pretty scenic route -- it's because he is so full of love for other people that he's willing to give up anything to keep them safe.

Link's not very powerful, but he is also unburdened by any desire to be powerful. Link's not very wise, but he is unburdened by any desire to be wise. Link is content in who he is, Link is happy to keep things simple. But Link is so brave that he becomes a leader, which actually makes him the most dangerous of the three.

Courage, unburdened, is fucking terrifying. To both Wisdom and Power. Because, unlike Wisdom and Power, Courage is contagious.

Link can empower and inspire and reveal truths others might not have been able to find on their own. Link doesn't need charisma or brutality. Link can build armies just by being observed.

"But Sketches, you haven't really said anything about how Link reflects the other two." It's subtle! But he does. I see it like this:

• Ganondorf reflects Link's relentless determination, refusing to stand down in the face of impossible odds. In this way, they're connected by their power and courage. • Zelda reflects Ganondorf's burden of being born in a crown, forcing them to learn leadership, and how to use their recklessness strategically, as children. In this way, they're connected by their power and wisdom. • Link reflects Zelda's sense of love for the faceless innocent, and her dedication to protecting all who can't protect themselves. In this way, they're connected by their courage and wisdom.

Because the inherent configuration of the triforce requires those connections to be balanced -- Separately they are overwhelmed by their traits. Ganondorf is willing to sacrifice everything he is in order to reach his goals, Zelda is so pre-occupied with preventing prophecy she ends up instigating it, and Link is so ready to step in and help that he never considers the consequences.

Every single one of them, left to their own devices, would rather see themselves destroyed than fail those who may or may not be relying on their success. They're all very similar, highly reflective characters who all represent compelling foils for each other and yes, display how their unfettered strengths are also the thing that damage them most.

[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?

[sapphic-agent]

Bro, Aizawa can go kick rocks. That last ask you posted got me so mad about him all over again.

I have no clue how Hori meant to write Aizawa. On one hand, he admits he really has no idea what the fuck he's doing as a teacher, doesn't actually teach his students anything, lets Bakugou do whatever the hell he wants with no consequences, and was wrong to treat Izuku the way he has been since day one. He even admits that he has no clue about his students DESPITE THE UA TRAITOR BEING ONE OF HIS STUDENTS.

On the other hand, he's arrogant enough in his teaching abilities to get offended when Mic calls him out for being a terrible teacher, doesn't say shit about Ida's internship choice despite knowing how suspicious it is, only gives ONE "I'm sorry, Izuku" with ZERO reflection or introspection as to why he hated Izuku so much, and hypocritically accused All Might of favoring Izuku despite not just blatantly favoring Bakugou and Shinsou, but shutting down Mic when he brought up said favoritism.

Worst thing is, everything in the second paragraph is to be taken at face value. We're supposed to see him as Kakashi 2.0 and this amazing teacher, but really he's just an arrogant asshole who if he were a real teacher, would have gotten MANY students killed due to his negligence and love of dishonesty.

Exactly, he's so inconsistent. I suspect this is due to his role as Horikoshi's mouthpiece. Isn't it a little suspicious that both times that Bakugou faced criticism from the public, Aizawa was conveniently placed to shut them down? Because the heroes at the Sports Festival and the reporters at the press conference are supposed to be us. Horikoshi, through Aizawa, is telling us how we're supposed to be regarding Bakugou, despite the fact that Bakugou's actions completely refute what Aizawa's saying.

(The worst thing about this is that it works. I suspect a big reason why people are so convinced that Bakugou's character arc was good is because of what Aizawa says. It's easy to buy into something if it's being told to you directly)

It's actually a shame because Aizawa didn't have to be a bad character. He's actually a pretty good hero, and his attitude towards Izuku's ideals wasn't exactly wrong. His execution absolutely was and he's really shitty about it, but I can understand the fear that someone who's self-sacrificing with a quirk he can't control will get himself killed.

The issue is Aizawa didn't care enough to a) actually understand what was going on and b) make the effort to teach Izuku better. So everything about him- his background, intention, trauma, beliefs- means nothing because he's not actually taking the steps to address and amend them.

Someone- not naming names- tried to make the argument that Eri ruined Aizawa's character. But honestly? She's the only reason I like him even a little bit. If we discount the light novels (and we should because from what I can tell they're awful), their relationship can be cute, even if we only ever see him escorting her around. Those little moments make him more human. It's not great (because again, they're barely together), but it does endear me towards Aizawa, if only a tiny amount