#fun birthday science experiments | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaylver · 1 year ago

Text

WEBS OF HURT — S.JY

synopsis: Falling for your best friend wasn't on your check list for high school. As if that wasn't enough to break your heart, his odd behaviour only added fuel to the fire along with a new crush of his. Who knew that odd behaviour would soon turn into a secret truth that you'd discover after his valiant effort of hiding.

pairings: spiderman!jake x afab!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, unrequited love, miscommunications, spiderman au, angst, romance, fluff

warning(s): profanities, mentions of alcohol, party, violence, injury

wc: 10k

a/n: tried something new! a little birthday gift from me <3 please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Falling in love with your guy best friend was probably the worst thing ever to experience when it came to girlhood.

High school should be fun, right? Being a teenager should be fun, right? Well, that wasn't exactly the case when you found yourself feeling more than just a mere liking towards Jake Sim, the guy best friend you mentioned and was entirely, love sickeningly, in love with.

Jake Sim was the first guy you actually built a solid friendship with. It first started when he sat beside you in calculus, then you realised you had more classes with him and a friendship eventually developed when you started acknowledging each other. One class together soon turned into years spent with one another. You knew his family and he knew yours. Nothing could ever break the bond between you and him.

You just couldn't help but notice a slight change in him after the death of his uncle, Ben. At first, you figured it might've been grief, trying your best to offer your utmost support. But as months flew by, the oddness persisted. He would disappear in between classes, sometimes standing you up at places you were at together and returning a little scathed, making it up to you by promising for a redo hang out. All of that was weird. Let's not get started on the fact he caught your stuff falling way too many times, even when his head was faced away, his hand would reach out first. In his words, he called it his 'spidey sense', whatever that meant.

However, you never doubted him. He was still the best friend you had, even if he had some tweaks to him. You never once questioned him or brought up your suspicions, but this time, you couldn't help yourself from bombarding him with questions when he broke the news to you.

"I think I have a crush," Jake announced the moment he was in your presence, sounding a little out of breath considering he made a run to the cafeteria. The tray of food was untouched, quite unlike him since he always dug into his food first.

"You 'think'?" You hummed, ignoring the mixed feelings you had blaring loudly.

"Okay, I know I have a crush," he has yet to start eating, just staring expectantly at you, eyebrows furrowed at the nonchalant and dismissiveness in your tone.

"You're being for real?" You finally turned your head to meet his eyes, placing your fork down.

"I am! I think it's kinda crazy," his eyes twinkled, something quite rare but only you knew, like a comet in the sky.

"Who is it?"

"Gwen,"

"Gwen? Gwen Stacy?" You swallowed back a frown that was itching to make its way to your lips, masking it with your best shot of shock instead of disappointment. Of course it was the golden girl, what a cliche plot.

He nodded, a small smile rested on his face as he started digging into his food. "We … talked? Talked about some science things, about Oscorp, about the things she's working on. Oh yeah, she said there's this party on Saturday and wondered if I wanted to go, I said I wanted to bring a friend and she's cool with it,"

"I assume I'm that friend, then?" You poked at your food, suddenly losing your appetite as the conversation progressed.

"No, it's Carlos—of course it's you, dumbass," he flicked at your forehead, earning a firm scowl from you. "You're my best friend, my only ever, I'd be insane to think otherwise,"

You chewed at your lips, not because you were contemplating whether you should or shouldn't go, but it was mainly due to the word 'best friend' that got your attention. There goes your hope down the drain. First, being told your best friend who you have a crush on already has his eyes on someone else, then, getting friendzoned by that same exact guy, all in one shot. It's brutal out here.

"So what do you say?" Jake's voice broke the momentary silence, noticing your dazed expression. You snapped out of it almost immediately.

"I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Do you want me to say no instead …?" You raised an eyebrow, watching him scrambling at your words.

"N–no! I'm just shocked and very glad you agreed to come," he managed a laugh, which turned into a smile.

"Am I going to get ditched that night because you want to get your dick wet?"

Jake scrunched his face up in a look of disgust. "Can you not? I don't need you to say that. And no, I'm not going to ditch you,"

"I'm holding you to it."

Jake shot you a wink, earning a figuratively loud eye roll from you. His laughter filled your ears, and though you managed a smile, you found yourself feeling the opposite internally. You knew you shouldn't feel this way, it's not like you were even in a relationship with him in the first place. But God, why did it hurt so bad?

Who told you friends to lovers was cool when it was unrequited and one sided all along.

"You know, you look good either way,"

Jake Sim was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you put on makeup and getting ready. It was a few hours before the party and Jake had turned up looking nervous, wearing that lucky graphic tee of his that you recognised quickly. Your teasing definitely didn't make him smile, and you soon realised that the crush he had was actually serious.

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow despite feeling the giddiness from the effects of his nonchalant words. He has to stop that. "Are you trying to butter me up to get me to move quicker?"

"Whaaat? No way. You genuinely look good whether or not you have makeup on, seriously," he was genuine, you could tell, but you knew him better than anything. It was quite a fatal flaw.

"Give me ten minutes to finish the other eye then we can leave."

At that, Jake sighed in relief and fell back onto your bed, kicking his legs patiently. He couldn't stop talking about the party and the people who'd be there, but honestly, you could tell he was just trying to not bring up Gwen at any given moment. Knowing that, you wished the mascara wand would just poke into your eye, maybe it'd hurt less compared to how your heart felt.

"Does my shirt look lame—"

"Dude, shut up," just before you and Jake entered the house, he was asking for another reassurance. First, it was his hair, then his shoes, and every other piece of clothing, leaving his shirt for last. It took everything in you to not punch him along the way there. "I swear, no one will care. If anything, isn't that your lucky shirt?"

"It is my lucky shirt. But whether or not that lucky shirt looks good, that's the case," he glanced down at his graphic shirt, a picture of a rock band from the 2000s staring back at him.

"Trust me, if it's ugly, I would've asked you to change, now shut up and get your ass in there before I leave you here," you huffed and continued walking, hearing him mutter something before catching up with you.

Upon entering the house, you figured it was as underwhelming as you expected. The smell of sweat and flavoured smoke filled the air, high school students lingered around as the music blasted. You should've probably stayed home.

"So, you got your pick up lines ready?" You thrusted a cup of fruit punch into his hands, tilting your head in question.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm afraid Google has failed me on that one," he looked around the room, shoulders tense.

"Calm down, big guy. You're acting like you're being hunted down. She's not that scary," you patted his shoulders as he took a swig out of his cup.

"Not scary? Says the one without a crush,"

How ironic.

You brushed it off, finding yourself taking a big gulp as well. He was oblivious and you were just stupid. Stupidly in love with your best friend who has his eyes set on another girl. Perfect.

"I think I see her," you followed his line of sight, spotting a blonde in the midst of the crowd almost immediately. She made her way through, parting the mass with a certain grace to her aura.

Jake looked back at you, a mix of conflict written in his features. You read him well, too well. You offered a smile. "Go, go talk to her. Just text me when you're leaving, okay? You said you're not going to ditch me,"

"I won't," he laughed, but there was a certainty in his tone.

"Then go, what are you waiting for? I'm expecting a whole loads of information by the end of the night," you gave him a slight push, but you could see the small reluctance he had. "Go!" Off he went into the crowds and gravitated towards her.

You couldn't bear to witness it all, watching him leaning down as she laughed into his ear. The feeling of bitter jealously coursed through your veins, it was evil, so evil, but you couldn't help it. At the end, you had to remind yourself, he wasn't yours in the first place. He wasn't yours to lose.

Turning your back to them, you sat alone in a stranger's kitchen and fought off the temptation of getting drunk. Instead, you indulged in the leftover pizzas left on the counter, letting a random girl join you and overshare secrets. Wallowing in self pity was probably not what you had in store for the night.

Almost as fast as you had arrived, it was already past midnight in a blink of an eye. You realised your curfew was around the corner and it was time to signal Jake to leave too. Glancing at your phone, you were surprised to see zero messages from your best friend. Weird.

You stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing a bunch of people passed out at the oddest spots, only a few still awake. One of them was surprisingly Gwen, the goody two shoes you had in mind was actually staying up past your curfew. You heaved a distressed yet exasperated sigh, walking towards her.

"Hey, Gwen," you hoped she remembered you, considering you were in the same Chemistry class as her.

"Oh, hey. Y/N, right?" She flashed you a sweet smile, and it was painful to know how likeable and nice she was. You couldn't even bring yourself to hate her.

"Right. Sorry for interrupting, but have you seen Jake around? The last time I saw him was with you," you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, taking the frown on her lips as a bad sign.

"He left," that was the least expected thing you anticipated as a response.

"He … left?" You repeated incredulously, almost as if she hadn't made it clear enough for you.

"Yeah, he suddenly said he needed to leave … in the middle of our conversation. An emergency or something. Kinda weird but kinda cute," she laughed, but you were holding back a disdainful scowl, reserved for both Jake and her, but most specifically Jake Sim. "Why? Were you with him?"

You bit back an immediate reply. As much as you wanted to say 'yes', you didn't want to blow off his chance either. "No, just … checking. He said he was coming tonight,"

"Oh, I see,"

"Yeah," you nodded rather stiffly and awkwardly. "I'll get going now, thanks,"

"See ya, Y/N. Until our next class," she gave you a salute, a melodious laugh escaping her lips.

You couldn't resist a smile either, saluting her back. There was a charm to her that affected people, it was understandable that Jake was charmed, but you hated to know that, and you did not want to understand it. For now, he was dead to you, just like how he has left you to yourself in the middle of a party at midnight. Was he Cinderella? Glad to know you weren't the only one who he pulled the disappearing act on.

Clutching onto your jacket tight, you cursed every cuss words there were under your breath, all of which were dedicated to Jake. He had the audacity to leave without even leaving you a text, and that got you walking home in the dangerous night of New York City. Thanks a fucking lot. To say you were seething was an understatement.

You hated the streets of New York especially at night. To prove your hatred further, you just had to be at threat of an armed robbery there and then.

"Hey! You there!" A dark figure approached from a distance, pointing at you. Oh God. "Got some money on you?" This couldn't be happening.

"N–no," you said quietly, backing up quickly. His footsteps thundered loudly against the pavement, seemingly getting closer.

"Don't lie, I see that purse on you,"

"I'm a broke high school student, leave me alone!" Was it sad to say that you were yelling the brutal truth to him?

"I don't care. Give me your purse—" his threat almost had you running in the opposite direction, but his sentence was never finished. Instead, a sharp unfamiliar noise shot through the silence, and a second figure in the distance appeared. That wasn't his partner, right?

Panic coursed through you, and yelling out was most likely the worst idea you had in ages. "Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello? Can I leave now?"

"Yeah, you can," the figure walked under the lamp post, revealing himself.

Spiderman?

Clad in red and a mask over his head, he stepped towards you ever so casually, whereas you stood there absolutely stunned to even move. It wasn't an everyday occurance where you could personally meet the hero in flesh. The media might've painted him as some criminal, but to you and many other citizens, you knew that wasn't the truth.

"Spiderman," you greeted, anxiety lowered knowing you weren't getting robbed now. "Thanks for—that," you waved in the direction of where the man originally was.

"No worries," you noticed his voice seemed familiar, but before you could think more about it, he spoke with a sudden deeper octave. "It's—uh—not safe out here. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, for starters, my friend left me at a party that we were supposed to leave together without telling me, and now I'm walking home alone, until I almost got robbed," it was clear that anger and bitterness laced your voice, a deep frown etched on your face as you told Spiderman your concerns.

"Sorry," his voice became lighter, somehow sincere, which made you tilt your head in question. "I–I mean, sorry that he did that to you," he cleared his throat, straightening his spine and returning back to that deep voice.

"I don't know what's up with him. He could've left me a text,"

He muttered something inaudible under his breath, then turned his focus back on you. "I'm sure he's very sorry, and maybe he's got a reason too. Try hearing him out,"

"I will. I always do. I'm just hurt, it's complicated,"

"What? What do you mean complicated?"

You shrugged, hugging your purse close to your chest. "It's nothing. I don't think Spiderman will be interested in my matters with my best friend. I'll leave you to your hero stuff and head home now. Thanks for saving me and the 20 dollars in my wallet,"

"Well—I—wait," before you could fully turn around and leave, his hand landed on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me walk you home. It's not safe,"

"Wouldn't it be weird if I turned up at my apartment lobby with Spiderman?" You crossed your arm, making quite a fair point.

"You're right. What about I give you a swing?"

"What?"

Swinging around New York City was definitely an unforgettable but scary experience. You clung onto Spiderman, screaming like a madwoman as he had his arm wrapped around your waist. The touch was as familiar as his voice, hard to put a finger on but almost feeling like you've known him for years.

You were about to point out your apartment but he had already beat you to it, not even needing you to tell you which floor or window it was, landing on the fire escape right in front of your bedroom window. That just further proved your familiarity towards him.

He pulled your window open, signalling you to head in, but you were stuck staring at him, both in shock from the swing and the way he knew your place.

"How did you—"

"Bye! Goodnight!"

You watched as he avoided your question and shot a web out to swing to some other building, leaving you stunned. How were you going to recover from this?

10/10 experience. Spiderman might just be your casual crush to get away from the thoughts of Jake.

'BREAKING NEWS: bank robbery in downtown last night caused a chaotic and frantic disturbance, luckily, Spiderman was there to save the day and catch the robbers before anything major happened. Is he really as bad as they make him to be?'

The news of Spiderman saving a bank from a robbery right before your personal near robbery experience had you amused. The videos of him beating up the robbers and using his webs to tie them up were going viral all over the internet, even people in school were talking about it.

You were standing at your locker, digging for some textbooks before class started when Jake Sim himself appeared beside you. His presence was announced before he even spoke, but you didn't bother to spare him a glance.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry about last night," he was heaving in breaths, as if he had ran across the school to find you, maybe he did.

"Oh, were you?" You clicked your tongue, suddenly finding the random piece of paper in your locker fascinating.

"I am. Seriously, Y/N. I know I'm an asshole for that, I'm sorry for not texting you earlier and letting you know—"

"Jake, this isn't the first time you bailed on me," you cut him off, slamming your locker door close and turning to face him. The bruise beside his right eye caught your attention, and suddenly, your anger seemed to have sizzled away. "What the hell happened to your eye?"

It has become a common practice by now apparently. Jake disappearing and turning up with some kind of injury. Like always, he just brushed you off. "It's nothing, don't worry. It's not about me, it's about you. I fucked up this time and I know it, I'm sorry. An emergency with Aunt May came up a–and I had to go home early, I was too caught up in the moment to let you know. I'm sorry, really,"

You considered his apology for a moment. He was sincere, you knew that, but there was a certain dishonesty to his explanation. However, you didn't want to press on further either. "I understand. You probably always have a reason, it's just that I hate it when you disappear on me without telling me. I almost got robbed last night!"

It took him almost a few seconds to register, then another few more to compute a reaction. "What? Are you okay?"

"I'm standing here, aren't I? Spiderman saved my ass,"

"Spiderman?"

"Yeah, Spiderman. That guy who swings around New York. He saved me from some guy that was about rob me, because someone over here decided to leave early,"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just glad you're alright,"

"Well, thank fuck I am," you crossed your arms, staring pointedly at Jake.

He dug something out of his backpack, a paper bag of some sort materialized in his hand. "I got you some of your favourite cookies and donuts. As a form of apology,"

You took the bag from him, glancing between him and it. "You can't just buy your way into an apology,"

"You accepted it, you took the bag,"

You rolled your eyes, unable to bite back. "Whatever," you reached in for a cookie and started walking away from your locker, hearing Jake scurrying to join your side.

"So, we're cool?"

You took a brief glance at him, taking a bite out of your cookie. "We are,"

Jake wasn't fully convinced, however. He knew you and your patterns, and he definitely knew which tricks to pull to make it better. "How about I treat you to some Chinese food tonight?"

That piqued your interest, an eyebrow raised at his question. "The one downtown?"

"That one,"

"You sure know how to get on my good side, Sim," you nudged his side, falling into one of his tricks once again. "Too well,"

"I know my ways to get to your heart, don't underestimate me," he said in a lighthearted tone, but God, you wished he would actually find his way into your heart. "Anyway, how was—uh—Spiderman, last night? Excusing your near robbery experience," he winced at the last part, though in reality, the accident hadn't shaken you as much as he had thought.

"He was nice! A little awkward but I kinda get it. He swung me back to my place, which was weird because he knew which window and level it was," you pursed your lips in deep thought, failed to realise the widened eyes from Jake and the panic that filled them.

"M–maybe, it was a wild guess," he said shakily.

"Wild guess? Don't bullshit me, Sim. A smart guy like you would know it's hard to do so," you waved him off, continuing to venture into your theories.

"Maybe he has some kind of sixth sense," he laughed rather stiffly, earning a suspicious narrowed stare from you.

"Okay, big head, quit acting so weird. Let's just get calculus over with and then stop by that ice cream place after school, what do you say?"

Jake's shoulders visibly relaxed, a sense of relief overtook his features. What was that about? "Sure. My treat,"

"God, Sim, you have to stop treating me or else I'll fall in love with you," you joked, even as it came out lighthearted, it was filled with a painful truth that you kept as a secret.

"Then fall in love with me."

You froze, almost unblinking. Something so intimate yet controversial had left his lips like it was nothing. It was probably nothing to him, maybe a mere joke even, considering how he let out a small laugh and smiled at your reaction. You tried to pretend it was nothing, but it wasn't nothing, not to you.

For a second, you wished you weren't already in love with Jake.

Trying to be happy for your best friend shouldn't be hard, but why were you struggling with it so much?

First, you were literally in love with him. Yes, you've come to the conclusion that you 'L' word him, the big 'L'. Seeing him list out the things Gwen likes and hates reminded you of yourself knowing him equally that much too, which only pained you more than it reassured you. Second, he has been hanging out with her more. Not that you were completely friendless and have no one to hang with, but Jake was Jake, he was your best friend, and losing your best friend was the worst thing to happen.

You didn't lose him, no, but it felt like you had. He barely made time for you, being caught up with Gwen, dates and school work, how could he not manage to squeeze you in there? You've always made time for him no matter what the occasion was, so knowing he didn't do the same for you just had you dying internally.

It was a quiet evening in New York. The sun had just set and you were walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone. This time around, you were smarter than the previous round. Armed with pepper spray and a pocket knife, you prayed on a shooting star that an unfortunate incident would never ever happen once more.

You were practically in your own world to even realise or hear footsteps approaching you from behind. By the time you did, your fight or flight mode was activated, almost throwing out a punch, just to freeze upon figuring out who it actually was. Spiderman.

"Walking home alone?" He kept up with your pace as you recovered from a momentary fright.

"Stalking me?" You wondered how he even spotted you in the first place. In the big city of New York, he's coincidentally strolling down the same street as you? As if. "Scared me, you know? Thought it was another round of getting robbed,"

"I'd be there to fight them off if that happens," he said with utmost confidence that it had you laughing a little, shaking your head in disbelief. Why did he remind you of Jake? It's a sign you should stop thinking so much about him.

"Really? I kinda doubt it. Unless you're keeping an eye on me or something, stalker," you teased him, egging him on further.

"I'm not stalking you," his tone gave away the withering confidence of his. You smiled, feeling his lingering gaze on your face. Maybe it was just your mind that's overthinking, but his mannerisms reminded you too much of your best friend. It was in the way he walked, talked and how he normally did this thing where he walked with you and cast glances at you from time to time. Every little detail that you wished you couldn't list out was a part of the city's hero.

He cleared his throat, straightening his back, trying to rebuild that confidence he originally carried. "So … how are things between you and your friend?"

"The one that stood me up at the party?"

He choked a little, but regardless, he nodded his head. "Y–yeah,"

You couldn't hold in a sigh from escaping your lips. Just thinking about Jake had you huffing in frustration. Spiderman picked up on it, shifting slightly beside you. "I guess not … good? Haven't seen him much and he hasn't been bothering to hang out with me anymore. I mean, I get he's making moves but why can't he just manage a little time for me? Maybe I'm too selfish but—" he's not mine anyway. You bite your tongue, holding back what you really wanted to say.

The hero beside you was silent for a bit, as if walking on eggshells and picking the best words to say. "I think he'd come around," he said slowly, "he'd say a couple of sorrys, and you should tell him what's on your mind. Let him know. He'll understand,"

You chewed on your bottom lips, considering the possibilities, but totally also not expecting to get advice from the Spiderman like it was some counselling session. "I know he'll listen. He always does. But I don't want anything to change between us,"

"Nothing will change," he said with a kind of certainty that even you didn't doubt. How did he know? Who was he to judge? You didn't say anything, but just nodded. You knew Jake wasn't the type to argue nor take your words lightly, but you shudder at the thought of a confrontation, not that it was your first with him, but it felt much more emotional this time.

"I hope so. I miss him—oh, my place is around the corner, I can manage myself," you stopped before a turn around the corner, Spiderman following suit.

Standing before him only increased your curiosity about his identity. Who was he? He was hiding under a mask that shielded his face, but something about him seemed less foreign than expected.

"O–oh, then I guess I should get away too. Swing around the city and see whose ass to beat," he laughed awkwardly, a hand automatically reaching for the back of his neck, just like something Jake would do too. You shook that thought away. "Goodnight … stranger,"

"It's Y/N," you didn't hesitate to tell him your name, he saved your life, a little information about yourself wouldn't hurt despite him being a total stranger still. "Goodnight, spider boy."

You turned around the corner, leaving the hero standing there, bewildered and helpless. It was hard to ignore the pit in your stomach that carved deeper and deeper. He reminded you too much of your best friend, and strangely, that was probably the reason why you felt gradually attached to him, a stranger that resembled the ghost of a guy you liked but couldn't have.

The space of your apartment was dark and soulless once you stepped into it. Your parents worked late as always, meaning you were alone most of the time, and this was one of them. Maybe it was the atmosphere and the countless wishful thinking, but a sense of despair knocked on the door of your heart.

By the end of the night, you laid awake in bed thinking about what Spiderman had said. Nothing will change. That was exactly what you wished for too, that your dynamic with Jake was never to change, but how was that to happen when he's got a girl around? Eventually, you're not just going to lose the guy you loved, but your best friend as a whole.

Your train wreck of thoughts were interrupted the moment you heard a knock on your window. That knock turned into a tune that you knew too well. Sitting up straight in bed, you spotted the figure standing by your window out on the fire escape. Jake.

At this point, you weren't even going to figure out how he got up this high on the fire escape. It was one too many times of him avoiding your question and you ended up dropping the matter too. Yet, curiosity itched your mind.

Unamused at the fact that he turned up at possibly the wrong timing, you dragged your legs over to the window, meeting his bashful gaze. He offered a crooked grin, but your narrowed eyes only shot it back into a frown.

"Explain to me why you're here? It's midnight, Aunt May would be worried about you," your window was opened now, but you stood in the way before he could climb through, an interrogative look of yours stared at him accusingly.

"I told her I'd be over at yours," he answered cheekily. "Just like the old times, eh?"

Judging from your unbudging stance and eyes practically shooting lazers, Jake knew he had struck a nerve that have been left untreated for far too long. He sighed a defeated breath, squeezing through forcefully and dropping his backpack onto the ground.

"I know," he didn't need to say much, yet he conveyed more than needed. "I've been a shitty best friend,"

It was your turn to sigh. You shook your head, averted your gaze to the ground and stepped aside, giving him more space. "You know a 'sorry' alone won't cut it this time,"

He followed your every movement, joining you to sit on the edge of your bed, a small space in between separated you and him. "I know. But I really am sorry, Y/N. I mean it,"

"I just want you to be honest with me, Jake. I know you're busy, I know you're trying to get the girl of your dreams or whatever, good for you, but it feels like you've forgotten about me or something,"

"I didn't forget about you. How could I ever?"

"Well, then stop acting like it! A text would suffice," you stood up, back facing him just so you could hide your face from him and the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Y/N," he grabbed a hold of your wrist, cold fingers wrapped around your skin, his touch ever so gentle. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up … many times, and a single 'sorry' wouldn't make up all the hurt I caused you, b–but there's a reason why,"

"What is it then?" You whirled around to face him, the dark of the room casted a shadow over his face, bringing out the fatigue and injury on his delicate features. "What the fuck, Jake? Are you hurt again?"

"It's nothing,"

"You said it's nothing every time you turned up hurt, and I never ask many questions, but Jake, it feels like you're hiding something from me," your hand reached up for his face, hovering over the bruises and mild cuts on his lips and skin. "I don't know you anymore,"

Jake moved his face away a little, grabbing that hand of yours which hovered over his face, lacing his fingers into yours, the rough surface of skin contrasting your soft touch. "I–I wish I could tell you what it is right now, Y/N, I really do, but it's not the right time. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe me, I don't want to hurt you,"

There was a moment of silence where you stood before him, hands intertwined with his, your hurtful gaze scanning his every feature that you knew too well. Jake never lied to you, you knew that, but why couldn't you fully trust him this time? There was a sense of truth and lie hidden behind his words, but you knew one thing, he was genuine. Yet, it wasn't enough.

"Let me make it up to you. There's this carnival in the city tomorrow night, you and I, hang out, what do you say?" He tried offering a smile, which eventually turned uncertain. "We can spend the entire day together. Just you and me,"

"No bailing on me this time?"

"Promise,"

"You do?"

He held up your interlocked hands, then intertwined your's and his pinky fingers together, something you and him always did when it came to serious promises despite the childishness to the whole pinky promises thing. "Promise," he repeated.

"I believe you, Jake. I always do, and I just don't want you to get yourself in danger, whatever it is that you're doing. Whenever you turn up bruised and beaten, I–I just feel helpless, and you push me away every time,"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, taking your interlocked hands and placing them on his chest, near to where his heart resided. "I promise to tell you the truth soon. I just need to be ready,"

"When you're ready," you gave his hand an affirming squeeze, a reassuring smile creeping up onto your lips. "Do you want to stay over?"

"I didn't turn up with a packed bag for nothing," he laughed, the air lightening up much more compared to earlier. "I'll sleep on the ground like always,"

Once you were done manoeuvring and setting up the sleeping bag for Jake, you were finally in bed for the second time that night, except now, you had Jake sleeping on the ground beside your bed. It wasn't a rare occasion having him sleep over, just maybe this time it was a tad bit more awkward given the situation you had earlier.

"Jake," you spoke into the darkness, your eyes trained on that one spot on your ceiling.

He hummed back in response.

"Nothing has changed between us, right?"

A beat of silence, the whirring of your A/C was what remained. Then, he spoke. "No. Nothing's ever going to change. Nothing will change,"

It sounded familiar, the way he said it and the enunciation he had in every word. You shook it off, given the late night and a mushy brain, you didn't give it a second thought.

"I'm glad. Goodnight, Jake."

"Goodnight."

Despite the reassurance from Jake, you descended into sleep with a pit in your gut. You could barely sleep with him next to you, thinking you could find a cure to every trouble that existed between you and him to fix it all. How could he say there'd be no changes when there's a bigger crack forming on your heart?

The next morning was like any other whenever Jake stayed over. An empty kitchen that allowed you to make some simple breakfast and after, you bid Jake goodbye for the moment before meeting him later on that day.

Upon stepping into your room, you spotted a black lump sitting under the window. It was Jake's backpack. He was already long gone from your apartment by then.

You advanced towards his backpack, held it up to move it somewhere else, but it only caused the contents inside to spill out. Knowing how clumsy Jake always was, you figured his backpack had been unzipped the entire time.

You glanced at the pile of mess littered on your floor, a clump of red catching your eyes amongst the rest. Curiosity got the best of you despite knowing you shouldn't pry, but the moment your fingers made contact with it, the question marks in your head increased by tenfold.

Spandex material. You pinched it at first, feeling the material against your skin, then you finally got the guts to hold it up entirely, revealing something far beyond expectations.

Spiderman suit?

Was it a fake one? Jake could've always bought it from Amazon. You held it closer for inspection, noticing how it was worn out, slight tears on the bottoms. It couldn't be a fake, something in you knew. The dried blood stains on some spots gave it away.

Everything made sense to you now. Jake being secretive, hiding the truth from you every time you asked, turning up hurt and disappearing at random times just for the news to report Spiderman's appearance after. All of them were finally connected in your head, and revelations about his suspiciousness were known by you.

It hit you. Jake was spiderman. Your best friend was that vigilante swinging around the city saving people and fighting crimes. He was the one who walked and swung you home. He always knew.

You let out a breath of disbelief, knees feeling weak and head spinning. How were you to shoulder the truth after this? Pretend like nothing's wrong when everything is wrong and weird. It was practically impossible to patch up the existing crack that continued to worsen.

Shoving Jake's belongings back into the bag, you shouldered it and made your way to his place. Your mind was in a haze, the thought of him being Spiderman was hard to wrap around. Sometimes ignorance was genuinely bliss, you wished this was one of those times.

You didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Jake wasn't home when you turned up at his door, meeting a confused looking Aunt May instead. Apparently, Jake went out in search of his backpack that was currently in your hands, so you had no choice but to call him and wait for him to be back.

How could you not have spotted it sooner? Now that you're in his bedroom for possibly the millionth time, everything seems clearer. The map of the city stuck on his wall which had random scribbles and locations circled in red marker ink stood out to you, the box of medicine and ointments sat on his bedside table that you frequently ignored. All the signs were presented before your eyes without your knowledge.

"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting," Jake closed his bedroom door after almost half an hour of waiting for his appearance. His hair was dishevelled, clearly panicked and alarmed.

"No, it's okay, we're supposed to meet up anyway," you sat up from lying on his bed, nodding at the backpack sitting on his desk. "Got your baby back,"

"Oh my God," he crossed the room with big steps and had zero hesitation when it came to unzipping it to check his belongings. "Did I leave it at your place?"

"You did,"

"Thought I left it out there somewhere," he murmured under his breath, then zipped the bag up. You knew why he was so secretive, and it made even more sense why he always brought it around.

Jake most likely felt your wandering eyes on him judging from the way he spun around and shielded his bag from view, trying to divert your attention away. "Want to watch a movie?"

How could you possibly say no? That sly prick.

You didn't indulge in his suspicious behaviour further now that you were aware of his secret, though you pretended not to. He did say he would reveal it to you soon, but that 'soon' was quite unknown. At this point, you didn't know who was going to be the first one to reveal it. Either you or him.

You spent half of the day binging on movies, ate an early dinner and then walked to the carnival together. Along the way there, you couldn't stop yourself from taking quick glances at Jake. The street lights illuminated his features under the darkening sky, the loud chatter of the crowd drowned out and it was only him in your world. Even as he asked you questions, you blindly nodded to most of them.

How could you not fall for him? He bought you drinks without question, won you prizes at those booths, held your hand as you walked through the crowds. It was as if Jake Sim himself was blind enough to not know what he was doing to you.

"Enjoying the night?" Jake threw his arm around your shoulder ever so casually that it had you holding your breath for a minute.

"You won me a big bear, of course I am," you held onto the stuffed toy tightly, grinning at the memory of Jake winning during his first try.

"What's next? Wanna stop by that art and craft booth then we go on the ferris wheel?" Jake definitely did know his way into your heart.

"Sounds good,"

You thought the night would eventually end with peace and quiet, but before it could even end, it had been ruined beyond belief.

The big screen suddenly flashed to a news reporter, the background looking chaotic and people were fleeing. It was live news, the whole thing was happening as you breathed. You and Jake stood rooted, staring at the big screen just like many others did, listening in on the broadcast.

'Just in, a monstrous creature was seen terrorizing and climbing along the Oscorp building. It was spotted not long ago, but now it has disappeared into the building, its whereabouts unknown. Workers of Oscorp have fled the building, but not all of them, some were said to be present in the building until now.'

You glanced at Jake, a sinking feeling in your gut. It was a sour thought knowing he's about to get himself in danger yet again, but having him bailing once more cut deeper than a falling knife. As a human, you wanted him to save lives and the city. However, you were also his best friend, and you hated to be selfish, but you just wanted him to be there without having to leave every single moment.

The conflict in your eyes matched Jake's, who was evidently struggling with himself. You tried to mask it, yet hurt and sadness was hard to ignore or hide.

"Oscorp … Gwen," the faint hush of a murmur was audible under his breath, causing you to cock your head at him.

"What?"

"I–I, Y/N, I have an emergency," he removed his arm around you, the hold on his backpack strap tightened.

"Jake," to scream at him? Let him leave? All of the above? You struggled with your emotions as you tried to understand and empathise, you always did, but couldn't you just have him this one time?

"I'm sorry …" his voice was weak, he knew how much pain and hurt he caused you, and retreating away from your disappointed face wasn't going to solve anything, just the problem downtown, but not the cracks that were forming right now.

"I know, Jake," you shouted when he was a distance away from you. He turned around, eyes widened and pupils blown, a mix of confusion and surprise painted his features. "I know about you,"

He was breathless, he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. He left without a trace, and once again, you were left alone to fend for yourself. You wanted to understand, you do, but it was hard.

You glanced at the big screen for one last time, uttering a silent curse under your breath, and decided to head to where the scene was. Crazy? Stupid? You were everything described. That was probably why you and Jake were best friends.

Taking the cab was one of the stupidest decisions you made, and that excluded the part where you're literally bringing yourself to danger. Thanks to whatever that was terrorising the Oscorp building, the traffic was heavier than usual, so you had no choice but to run on foot. It was the most running you ever did all year.

You wondered if it was a good idea to even be there. Answer: no. The police cars were everywhere, all of which were stationed with police that were armed with rifles. A helicopter circled the building, several broadcasting stations and their reporters were present too. It was a mess.

"What's happening here?" You were practically out of breath, panting, as you asked a random bystander there.

"Some freakish lizard creature. I think Spiderman swung into the building to save the remaining victims. They were all rescued but Spiderman's still fighting in there,"

"You saw him? Spiderman?"

"I did! Red suit, white webs, he was so heroic when he crashed through the glass panels,"

"That's the one," you said unnervingly, disliking the uncertainty of it all. Jake was putting himself in danger and you could do nothing about it. How long did this go on for? You were left in the dark for far too long.

Soon, which almost felt like forever, you saw a speck of red escaping from the gap in the building with somebody in hand. You held your breath out of anxiety, heart thumping, listening in on all the noises and reports coming from everywhere around you.

"There he is! Spiderman!" A reporter appeared next to you, absolutely transfixed with the superhero slinging through the dark sky and eventually landing in the distance. "He has the last hostage in hand! A girl!"

A girl?

You pushed past the crowd, trying to get a closer look at Spiderman and the entire scene before you. There he was, speaking to the police, but there was somebody else too. Gwen Stacy.

An overwhelming feeling crashed down on you like a heavy weight of boulders falling from the sky. Confusion, hurt, heartbreak, altogether they penetrated you harder than you could manage to breathe. One step, two step, you took many steps back before turning away and hailing for a cab home.

He wasn't yours, and he wasn't yours to lose either.

Returning home to an empty apartment was nothing new, except it did hit differently this time. Your heart was empty, mind in a haze, it was as if your narrator had drawn swirls over your head. You wished things had turned out in another way. You and Jake, how you found out about his secret, him hiding his secret. If only all of them had another ending than what you had in the present.

You sat slumped over in bed, the desk lamp was the only thing that provided light for the darkness in your room. The shadow looming over your window went unnoticed by you. That was until a series of knocks sounded and you jumped out of bed in alert, finding it strange how there was nothing once your eyes trained on your window.

Well, there goes your future.

You stepped a little closer. Just then, the window was jerked open by some unseen force, a red cladded face peeking his head into frame. Spiderman, or more accurately, Jake, was standing on your fire escape again.

He dropped his backpack onto your bedroom floor, letting himself in wordlessly. You stared at him, not knowing whether to speak first or let him be the one to do it. After all, he had left you hanging, it's the least he could do.

Jake pulled off the mask from his head, revealing a rather beat up face and messy, dishevelled hair that was coated with sweat. "You knew?"

His voice was tired, but the confusion and hurt punctuated through his words. He inched close to you, but you took a step back, unable to meet his gaze.

"Well, it wasn't a long time," you muttered. "Just today, actually … coincidentally,"

"How?"

"Your backpack. I swear I didn't look through it, it was unzipped and when I picked it up, everything spilled out. Your suit revealed it all," you chewed at your bottom lip, Jake's eyes boring into yours, the prickling feeling of anxiety crawled all over your skin. "I didn't want to find out this way either,"

"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I wanted to, trust me, you're one of the closest people I have in my life. But I just didn't know when or how to break it to you. I wanted to protect you, to keep you safe," he was equally guilty for hiding it for a long time, but you understood the reason behind it. Being a hero comes with a great responsibility, that was what movies taught you anyway.

"Jake, I know, and it's okay, but I just wish to be selfish for a little. I want you to be here with me, to be there for me a–and be my best friend for a minute," you felt yourself losing the will to speak as seconds passed by. "I feel like I'm losing you,"

"You're not. I'm here," he pressed his palm against his heart, stepping closer until he was barely a few inches away. "Always,"

"I don't want to lose you, Jake," your voice wavered, a clear sheen of tears glazed your eyes. "I'm in love with you," your words came out in a whisper, a hushed confession that spilled with no warning, coming from the deepest, darkest pits of your heart. Even then, you couldn't believe you had actually said it, stilling in place and blinking in shock.

Jake's breath hitched, his movements frozen. You wondered about the possible scenarios you were about to face, ones that you thought of whenever you had the urge to spill your love confession. All of them certainly didn't prepare you for what was happening next.

"I'm sorry," shock turned into instant panic. Your hands shot out to create a small distance between you and him. "Ignore what I just said. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—"

Jake didn't say much, and in a swift motion, he grabbed a hold of your hand, pulled you into him. One hand holding your wrist, the other cupping your face to tilt your head and his lips met yours.

You could barely register it. The weight of his mouth against yours created a mass of fireworks in both your head and stomach. The shock evaporated from your body and relief took its spot. You melted against his touch, leaning your body closer to his.

Jake kissed you like no man could have ever done. He left a part of himself, imprinted his every unspoken word into a deep and passionate kiss. You wondered if this was what it felt like being loved by him.

Forever was what you wished for when it came to kissing him. Yet, it eventually came to an end just like every one of your favourite movies. This time, however, you weren't disappointed, you were glad.

"Don't apologise. Y/N, I'm in love with you too," his hand on your cheek remained, the dim light managed to bring out the sparks in his pupils. It was your turn to be confused. Didn't he have a crush? "I know what you're thinking. Gwen—" it's freaky how he always knew, "—I was kinda dumb, to be honest. I was always in love with you but it took me years and a girl to only realise that,

"She was nothing like you. The more I got to know her, the more I thought of you. I wasn't trying to like her, I was trying to find a piece of you in her. Being the coward that I am, I ran away from facing the thought of liking you, I didn't want to ruin our friendship. So, I kept on entertaining the thoughts of liking Gwen instead, but none of it was real. You're the one who's constantly taking up space in my mind, in my heart,"

The fireworks from earlier exploded ten folds in your mind. You couldn't believe you were experiencing every passing moment listening to Jake's confession. He felt the same way as you did for him. He has had the same pining for you like the same way you had for him. Years, years of unspoken romantic love for one another that both were too scared to touch upon.

Jake took your shell shocked silence as an opportunity to continue on. "I'm sorry for standing you up all the time. I'm sorry for hiding the truth from you. I'm sorry for avoiding you. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner. But I love you, Y/N. You're my best friend, more than anything, you're the only person I want to have occupying my mind all the Goddamn time,"

"Jake," your hand travelled to place itself onto his which rested on your face. "I love you too," you laced your hand into his, the intimacy that would've been seen platonic days ago was now something more than that. You and him both felt the shift, it was apparent.

"I don't care that you're Spiderman," you continued, not once breaking eye contact with him, letting him stare into yours as you did the same. "You're Jake to me, you forever will be, and that's all that matters,"

Jake's delicate features melted into a smile. His pretty smile that had you swooning was on display like a trophy, influencing you enough to crack a small grin too. He looped an arm around your waist, dipping you slightly and pressing a haste kiss on your lips, then your cheeks.

"I guess I can now say I've swung into your heart," he teasingly sent a wink flying at you, to which you responded with an eye roll. Some things never changed, but his ego definitely was inflated now.

"Shut up before I kick you out," you threw a light punch at his shoulder, which he dodged almost unsuccessfully. "Come on, let's patch you up then we can go to bed," you patted his shoulder, walking towards your bathroom.

"Demanding," he whistled under his breath, picking up his discarded mask from the floor.

"Don't make me add a black eye to your face,"

"But you like my pretty face,"

"You want to test it out?"

"Okay, okay. I'm coming."

The night eventually ended with Jake being patched up and sleeping on your bed instead of his usual spot on the ground. These little changes was what you anticipated most, but other than that, it was safe to say nothing would be changing when it came to your and Jake's relationship. If anything, it was about to be stronger.

So what if he was Spiderman? At least you knew Spiderman was yours, and he had indeed swung into your heart.

Dating your best friend who had a secret identity was fun.

You got to discuss maths in school and listen to his adventures after. Not to mention, he would swing you around New York City at times once the clock striked past midnight. No other girl was going to get a date like this. Ten out of ten, you may add.

With the fun came the terror. You do fear for Jake's safety almost every time he's out, and it has become a routine to patch him up till the point where you had to restock your emergency kit. This time was like no other when Jake appeared through the window soundlessly in his Spiderman suit.

"Hey," he was breathless, tumbling over the window still.

You jumped, not even realising his appearance. "What the hell? Jake? Oh my God," you got up right away to support his tired body, but he ended up sliding down onto the ground anyway.

"Are you injured anywhere? Bleeding?" You checked for his body, trying to spot any obvious cuts, making yourself comfortable in the space between his legs.

"No," his hand reached for the end of his mask, pulling it up halfway only to reveal his lips. "Can I get a kiss?"

"Are you serious?"

"I am dead serious,"

You rolled your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss on his lips that eventually widened into a satisfied smile. You gently slapped his face, eliciting a sweet laugh from him and with a tug of his hand, he fully removed the mask from his head, revealing his pretty face that you missed.

"I got something for you," his hand reached out to brush your hair away from your face, his touch ever so gentle when it came to you. He dug something out of his bag, pulling out a fresh bouquet of flowers. "Ta-da,"

"Flowers?" You accepted the bouquet from him, noticing all of your favourite flowers in it. He remembered, even the littlest details about you, he remembered them all.

"I got them on the way here," you raised an eyebrow at him. He threw his hands up in defence. "Hey, I didn't steal them. I actually paid for them. They gave me a discount too because I was in my suit,"

You resisted a smile. "You're unbelievable,"

"Unbelievably cute? Romantic? Handsome?" He leaned in closer to you, noses close enough to brush against one another.

"Go away," you squeezed his cheek, and he just let you do so without any fight. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him briefly. "I like them,"

"What about me?"

"I like you too,"

"But I like you more,"

You threw your head back laughing, a simple sound which was enough to have Jake's heart racing. "We're not making this into a competition, stupid. Now, go shower or else you're not sleeping on my bed,"

"But—"

"Nope. Shower or get exiled,"

"Fine," he dragged his body up sluggishly, looking almost like a puppy being forced to his dismay: the shower. "You're not joining me?"

"Don't make me chase you out." you threw a pillow at him that he skillfully dodged. Damn his spider senses. His laughter echoed around your bedroom until he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of it gave comfort to you and your beating heart.

Things might've changed a little in different aspects, but you knew nothing could change you or Jake altogether. He was your best friend and lover no matter what he was. Spiderman or loverboy, he was everything to you. All you knew was that he was going to be by your side no matter what, protecting your heart alongside the city.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog @eleanorheartschishiya @nanabbg @letwiiparkjay @teddywonss @classicroyalty @run2x @yannnnaj @jakesfurry @gyuwooboozle @nylajp24 @usedto-me @vernonburger @simjyunnie @haerasblog @jakevascaino @sunpov @ms-no1kpopstan @jiawji @rikizm @cheerrxy @kimsunoops

3K notes · View notes

supi-wupi · 18 days ago

Text

Kiss Me, It’s for Science - Junhui

Pairing: jun x reader

synopsis: Jun and Y/N are both psychology majors. For their thesis, they must observe the chemical reactions of romantic attraction... using themselves as test subjects. Bonus, Their “experiment” is being live-blogged by classmates on a fan account.

wc: 4.1k

genre: Romantic Comedy, Academic AU, Mutual Pining, Group Chat Chaos, Soft but unhinged friendship dynamics

warning: Swearing (mostly in the form of chaotic group chat energy and Seungkwan’s emotional rants), Secondhand embarrassment (via live-blogging, secret kisses, and overly dramatic classmates), Mentions of stress

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNNIE!!! was actually laughing at myself for even writing this in the first place, but i had fun :) Special thanks to @hhaechansmoless and @flowerwonu for beta reading for me!

1. Hypothesis: Jun Is Not That Pretty. Probably.

The list of things you expected when you picked psychology as your major was short and kind of embarrassing. You thought you'd learn how to read minds (nope), how to fix people (wrong again), and maybe how to stop crying in front of professors (jury's still out on that one).

You definitely did not expect to end up in a research lab about ‘neurochemical responses to romantic attraction.’

Even less expected was being partnered with Wen Junhui—resident pretty boy, dance major turned psych convert, and the guy who once tried to hypnotize a TA for extra credit. It almost worked.

Jun was already at your shared lab table when you arrived, feet up on the second chair, flipping through the experiment handbook like it personally offended him. He looked up as you approached, expression unreadable. Then he smiled—wide and kind and borderline smug.

“You’re late,” he said.

“You’re early,” you shot back, dropping your bag with a dramatic thunk. “What are we even doing this semester? I skimmed the syllabus, and it sounded like a dating sim disguised as science.”

Jun’s grin widened. “That’s because it is.”

You blinked.

He patted the seat next to him. “We’re going to fall in love. For research.”

You stared at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

He pulled out a laminated page from the handbook and slid it across the table like he was revealing a clue on a game show. You read aloud: ‘Students will pair up and conduct a series of controlled experiments designed to measure physiological and psychological markers of romantic arousal and bonding.’

Your voice cracked a little on arousal.

“...This can’t be real.”

Jun leaned his chin on one hand, hair falling just slightly into his eyes. “It’s supervised by Dr. Kang. She’s been studying oxytocin and dopamine pathways for years. I think she’s trying to get a paper out of it.”

“So we’re lab rats.”

He raised his brows. “Hot lab rats.”

You rolled your eyes so hard, you didn’t think it was possible.

Still, you glanced back at the paper. Heart rate tracking, skin conductivity, pupil dilation, mood journaling, regular surveys. One prompt literally said, ‘Have participants hold hands for 60 seconds and record any notable emotional or physiological changes.’

This had to be a joke.

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.

Jun tapped the edge of the page. “Because it’s fifty percent of our final grade. And because it’ll be fun.”

You gave him a look.

He gave you the Jun look, which basically meant the same as a wink but prettier and more annoying.

“And,” he added, “because apparently, someone’s already live-blogging our class.”

Your head snapped up. “What?”

Jun pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and slid it your way.

On screen: a Twitter account titled [@JunYNSocialExperiment] Pinned tweet: Day 1 of Jun and Y/N’s slow descent into thesis-induced madness. Sparks may already be flying. 👀 #Psych4Luv

You blinked again. Harder.

Jun just shrugged. “Welcome to the spotlight, partner.”

You wanted to crawl under the lab table.

Instead, you groaned and flopped onto the chair next to him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Not the most romantic start,” he said, mock-pouting.

You glared at him. “You better not fall in love with me, Jun.”

He grinned, and this time it was all teeth. “Too late.”

—

2. Variables Include but Are Not Limited to, My Crush on You

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 13: Jun just held Y/N’s hand during the oxytocin baseline. Her hand was shaking. His wasn’t. That man is too calm. Suspiciously calm. Tweet 14: Someone check if he practiced this in the mirror. #SmoothOperator Tweet 15: UPDATE: Jun said “your hands are soft” in a tone that should be illegal in educational settings. #HRViolation

—

You don’t know who’s running the live-blog account, but you’re at least 80% sure it’s Minghao. Maybe Seungkwan. Could be both.

“Should we be worried we’ve gone viral on CampusTok?” Jun asks, voice way too relaxed for someone whose heart rate was just logged mid-hand-holding session.

You, on the other hand, are a wreck. You can feel your pulse in your teeth.

“It’s not viral,” you mutter, not looking up from your lab notes.

Jun holds up his phone: 27.4K likes on a clip of you nearly dropping your water bottle when he smiled too hard during Eye Contact Session 1.

You stare at the number. Then you stare at him.

“This is your fault,” you say.

He feigns innocence. “I’m just being a good lab partner. You’re the one getting flustered.”

“You smiled like a romance anime protagonist.”

“I was following protocol. Stimulus Response Theory. Emotional cues. It’s for science.”

Inhale. Exhale. Murder is illegal….

Dr. Kang appears at that exact moment, armed with clipboards and a polite but terrifying smile. “How are my favorite guinea pigs doing?”

You both reply at the same time: Jun: “Deeply in love.” You: “Deeply in denial.”

Dr. Kang nods like that’s perfectly normal and flips to the next page in her binder. “Excellent. Today we’re doing proximity tests. Sit close, back-to-back, no talking. We’ll be monitoring tension levels.”

You blink. “Tension levels?”

“Muscle stiffness, heart rate, skin conductivity.” She pauses. “And maybe some vibes.”

Jun snorts. You do not.

Five minutes later, you’re sitting back-to-back with Jun on a mat on the floor, too aware of the warmth radiating from his shoulder blades and the fact that you’re pretty sure he smells like green tea and expensive dreams.

You hear him breathe in, like he’s going to say something, then stops. A beat of silence follows.

“I can feel you overthinking,” he murmurs, voice low enough only you can hear.

You elbow him in the ribs.

He laughs silently.

—

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 16: They’re back-to-back right now. She keeps adjusting her posture. He hasn’t moved once. I’ve never seen a man so comfortable with romantic tension. Tweet 17: Someone said he’s the embodiment of a smirk. Accurate. Tweet 18: If this doesn’t end in a kiss during the Final Trial, I’m demanding a refund from the psychology department.

—

You finally snap when someone in your group chat sends a meme of your blushing face photoshopped onto a squirrel. Caption: "Me when Jun breathes."

You hold up your phone to him, nose wrinkled. “Why are they like this?”

Jun glances at it and grins. “Because we’re adorable.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I am.” He pauses, then tilts his head. “But also you.”

You freeze.

Jun shrugs like he didn’t just ruin your nervous system. “Just an observation. Scientific.”

You toss a pen at his forehead.

He catches it—of course he catches it—then raises a brow. “Aggression noted. Possible sign of repression?”

You nearly scream.

—

3. This Is Definitely a Crush, But Let’s Pretend It’s Academia

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 19: Jun just adjusted Y/N’s necklace for the "touch sensitivity test." That was not science. That was foreplay. Tweet 20: We’re 3 sessions away from them inventing eye contact pregnancy. Tweet 21: The TA had to step outside to breathe.

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Hao]: do u think if i bump into jun in the hallway and say “do you believe in fate” he’ll crack and confess [Boo]: no but he’ll probably quote some philosopher and flip his hair [Vernon]: i’m still not over how he called y/n “sunshine” in that deadpan voice like bro who trained you [Dino]: should we start a betting pool for when they kiss [Hao]: i already started one. dps due friday [Boo]: why friday [Hao]: because dr kang is making them share a blanket for the “comfort dependency module.” [Hao]: i am not joking.

—

“I think Minghao’s spying on us,” you mutter, scrolling through the live-blog account while sitting next to Jun at a coffee shop.

Jun glances over, sipping his iced americano like nothing phases him. “I think Minghao’s rooting for us.”

You choke on your muffin.

He pats your back in a very not platonic way. “You good?”

“Define ‘good,’” you cough, “because emotionally I’m hanging on by a single neurotransmitter.”

Jun smiles, utterly unhelpful. “Let’s hope it’s dopamine.”

—

In today’s lab, you’re asked to complete a “Shared Intimacy Memory Test,” where you’re supposed to tell a meaningful memory to your partner and rate how emotionally connected you feel afterwards.

You stare at the blank paper in front of you.

“Do I tell the story where I cried in front of my professor?” you ask. “Or the one where I got stuck in a revolving door?”

Jun hums. “How about something you’d only tell someone you trust?”

You side-eye him. “You first, Casanova.”

And then he tells you about his mom’s garden.

About how she used to wake him up at 5 a.m. to water the tomatoes.

About how he hated it—until he moved out and realized he missed the smell of basil more than anything.

You look at him, quiet for a long moment.

“That’s kind of beautiful,” you say, softly.

He shrugs. “Kind of like you.”

You stare.

He doesn’t break eye contact.

The TA coughs behind her clipboard.

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: he just called her beautiful [Boo]: i have ascended [Dino]: do you think if i fake a nosebleed they’ll get distracted long enough to kiss [Hao]: no but worth a try. bring a ketchup packet. [Vernon]: i’m just here for the free drama. this is better than any kdrama i’ve ever seen.

—

Later that night, Jun walks you home after the lab.

Your shoulder brushes his.

You pretend not to notice. He pretends not to either.

“You ever think we’re just playing chicken with each other?” you ask suddenly, stopping near your door.

Jun blinks. “In what way?”

“I mean—who’s going to crack first. Say it out loud.”

He steps a little closer. “Say what?”

You look up at him, heartbeat louder than logic.

“That this... doesn’t feel like an experiment anymore.”

Jun doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he reaches up like he might touch your face, then stops.

“I’ve known since Day 2,” he admits.

You blink. “Known what?”

“That I like you,” he says simply. “Everything else has just been… peer-reviewed confirmation.”

Your heart crashes somewhere into your lungs.

But before you can reply, he adds, “I’m not asking for an answer. Not yet. But just know I’m not pretending.”

You don’t sleep that night. Your lab notes the next morning are absolute garbage.

—

4. The Blanket Test and Other Forms of Emotional Torture

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 21: If you thought they couldn’t get more domestic—today’s module is: Shared Thermal Regulation. Tweet 22: Translation: THEY’RE SHARING A BLANKET FOR SCIENCE. Tweet 23: Jun said “you can have more if you’re cold” and tucked the blanket over Y/N’s knees. I am now legally married to this ship.

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: shared. thermal. regulation. [Boo]: dr kang is a menace and also my hero [Dino]: they’re gonna die of tension before hypothermia even kicks in [Vernon]: y/n just told jun “you run warm” and i had to physically leave the room [Hao]: if they don’t kiss today i’m deleting my degree [Hao]: this is not psychology this is foreplay 101

—

Jun adjusts the blanket so it drapes evenly across your legs. You're sitting side by side on the floor of the lab’s observation room, backs against the couch, trying very hard not to make eye contact.

“So,” you say lightly, “how do you think this affects the dopamine system?”

Jun leans over. “You want the scientific answer or the ‘I like the way your voice sounds when you’re flustered’ answer?”

Your whole nervous system malfunctions.

“That’s not—” you choke, “That’s not a real research angle!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Says who? Should we test it?”

You open your mouth to argue, but then he shifts closer, shoulder to shoulder now, and all your cognitive functions dissolve.

You pretend to look at your notes.

He pretends to look at his.

Neither of you are fooling anyone.

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: jun said “you smell like vanilla and chaos” and i SCREECHED [Hao]: i am going to physically force their faces together i swear [Dino]: update: i told the TA i had to “check the fire alarm” so i could eavesdrop [Vernon]: i heard jun say “i dreamt about you last night” [Vernon]: i have not recovered [Boo]: WAS IT SEXY [Vernon]: no it was weirdly soft [Vernon]: he said “you were laughing and I wanted to keep the sound” [Hao]: i need a sedative

—

“You’re staring again,” you murmur without looking at him.

“I study human behavior,” Jun says smugly. “This is observational data collection.”

You snort, eyes still on the psych textbook in your lap. “Uh-huh. What’s your conclusion?”

He shifts a little closer. “That I’m probably completely in love with you.”

Silence.

Your fingers twitch under the blanket.

He doesn’t take it back.

You look up at him—finally—and the look in his eyes makes the air feel heavier.

You say, quietly: “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Jun smiles, a little crooked. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… don’t run.”

“I’m not running,” you whisper.

He nudges your knee with his. “Good.”

—

Later, back in your dorm, you open your phone and find 18 missed messages from Hao.

[Minghao]: DID YOU KISS?? [Minghao]: DID YOU TOUCH HANDS?? [Minghao]: DID HE WHISPER YOUR NAME LIKE A SAD VICTORIAN POET WE’RE DYING HERE [Minghao]: answer or i’m going to publish the live-blog as a case study

You roll your eyes and finally respond

[You]: no kiss [You]: just confessions [You]: maybe next time [Minghao]: CONFESSIONS?? [Minghao]: LIKE LOVE ONES?? [Minghao]: be so serious rn. i’m calling dr kang and declaring this a success [You]: don’t [Minghao]: too late. already printed matching lab coats that say “subject a’s boyfriend”

—

5. Hallway Kisses and One (1) Witness Too Many

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 24: Okay. Okay. Okay. I’m shaking. Tweet 25: THEY THINK THEY’RE SNEAKY. THEY’RE NOT. Tweet 26: Seungkwan caught them kissing outside the lab and texted us “GUYS I JUST WITNESSED EMOTIONAL NUDITY” Tweet 27: Anyway, we won.

—

It happens between modules.

You and Jun are standing in the hallway outside Dr. Kang’s office, both slightly breathless after a long presentation on “emotional synchrony and physiological arousal,” which is ironic considering you haven’t been able to calm down around Jun for weeks.

There’s no one in the hallway. The lab door clicks shut behind you.

You lean against the wall, arms crossed loosely. Jun’s in front of you, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking from your face to your mouth and back again.

“You did well in there,” he says softly.

“You too. Especially that part where you explained heart rate increase as ‘mutual attunement’ and looked directly at me for the entire paragraph.”

Jun tilts his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You noticed?”

You roll your eyes. “I notice everything.”

There’s a beat.

Then he takes a half-step closer. “Do you notice how close I am right now?”

Your breath hitches. “Jun—”

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, say something.”

Silence.

You look up at him, and whatever’s in your expression makes him breathe in sharply. He leans in—

And kisses you.

It’s gentle at first—tentative, warm. But then you’re pulling him in by the collar and he’s tilting your chin up with one hand, the other braced against the wall beside your head. The kiss deepens, and the world narrows to the space between your mouths.

Then—

“Oh my GOD.”

You both freeze.

Seungkwan is standing ten feet away with his lunch tray, mouth agape.

There’s a long, long pause.

“…Please pretend you didn’t see that?” you say weakly.

Seungkwan drops the tray on the floor with a clatter and bolts down the hall at full speed, yelling, “I NEED MY PHONE. I NEED THE GROUP CHAT. I’M TELLING EVERYONE.”

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: EMERGENCY BROADCAST [Boo]: RED ALERT [Boo]: THEY WERE MAKING OUT OUTSIDE THE LAB [Boo]: I REPEAT [Boo]: LIP-LOCK LEVEL: ADVANCED [Hao]: OH MY GODDDDD [Hao]: I KNEW IT [Hao]: LOVE IS REAL [Boo]: jun had his hand on the WALL [Boo]: WALL ARM [Boo]: THE KDRAMA WALL ARM [Dino]: i am crying. this is the most important academic day of my life [Vernon]: are we still live-blogging or is this now a fan shrine

—

Later that night, Jun sends you a text.

[Jun]: did we break seungkwan he walked into the kitchen and handed me a banana without saying a word

[You]: i think he’s grieving either our friendship or the fact he wasn’t the first to know possibly both

—

Dr. Kang enters the next lab session with a small smile and a stack of feedback forms.

“Before we begin, I’d like to commend Subject A and Subject B for their… commitment to the experiment.”

You and Jun exchange panicked glances.

Dr. Kang continues. “Some of your classmates have submitted observational reports. Very thorough. Some might say emotionally invasive, but—” she shrugs, “—that’s academia.”

You are going to kill Seungkwan.

—

[@JunYNSocialExperiment] Tweet 28: they’re holding hands in the presentation now Tweet 29: jun just whispered something and y/n smiled like a fool Tweet 30: we’re calling it Tweet 31: experiment conclusion: it was never about science Tweet 32: it was always about love

—

6. Confessions & Crashes (Live from Psych 301)

The final presentations were scheduled to start at 1:00 PM sharp, but the lecture hall was already packed by 12:40. Not because anyone particularly loved behavioral psych, but because the entire Seventeen Group Chat had gone rogue.

—

Specifically: Subject: Jun and Y/N’s final presentation Subtext: Will they combust? Will they kiss again? Will Seungkwan faint in public?

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: IM OUTSIDE THE LECTURE HALL [Boo]: I REPEAT THE KISSERS ARE ON CAMPUS [DK]: omg [DK]: omg [Joshua]: don’t cause a scene [Boo]: TOO LATE I’VE ALREADY SWEATED THROUGH MY SHIRT [Mingyu]: i brought popcorn [Vernon]: i brought existential dread [Woozi]: i brought a taser [Soonyoung]: I BROUGHT POSTERS [Jeonghan]: what [Soonyoung]: [attached: “KISS ME IT’S FOR SCIENCE” banner] [Jeonghan]: I regret asking

—

You and Jun sit near the front. There’s a half-meter of space between your seats, but the tension could punch a hole through concrete. You’re both quiet. Too quiet.

It’s been three days since the kiss.

Three days since Seungkwan caught you in the hallway and shrieked so loud the janitor dropped his mop. Three days since your group chat transformed into a fanfiction-writing frenzy, culminating in Minghao sending a 20-slide PowerPoint titled “The 19 Stages of Academic Yearning (ft. Jun and Y/N).”

And three days since you’ve said anything real to Jun.

Because how do you follow a kiss like that?

A kiss that wasn’t part of the experiment. A kiss that wasn’t data or methodology or "mutual gaze-induced arousal via stimulus proximity." A kiss that felt—

Real.

—

Your names are called. You step up.

You’re shaking. But Jun smiles at you, soft and grounding. Like he’s saying, We got this. I got you.

You start with the basics—hypothesis, procedure, variables.

Jun picks up the analysis, voice steady. “We measured cortisol levels, pupil dilation, and heartbeat synchronization during various physical and emotional interactions. Our aim was to determine whether affection, simulated or genuine, could create measurable physiological bonding.”

He pauses.

You glance at him. His jaw tightens.

Then he turns to face the audience. “But somewhere along the way,” Jun says quietly, “it stopped being simulated.”

Your stomach drops.

The room is silent.

“Somewhere between testing proximity and shared secrets… I stopped seeing this as research. And started feeling something real.”

You blink.

Oh no.

He’s doing this. Here. Now. In front of fifty students and one very emotionally fragile Seungkwan.

You step forward, whispering, “Jun—”

But he looks right at you.

“This wasn’t in the protocol,” he says, voice suddenly trembling. “You weren’t supposed to matter this much. But you do. You do.”

—

The lecture hall explodes.

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: HES CONFESSING [Boo]: HE’S CONFESSING IN PUBLIC [DK]: OH MY GODDDD [Joshua]: I’M CRYING [Woozi]: shut up i can’t hear [Minghao]: [screenshot of Jun’s face mid-confession, zoomed in 300%] [Soonyoung]: CAN I THROW FLOWERS [Jeonghan]: NO [Soonyoung]: TOO LATE [Jeonghan]: ARE YOU ACTUALLY THROWING FLOWERS [Soonyoung]: [attached: photo of daisies in mid-air] [Mingyu]: THE TA IS CRYING [Vernon]: i’m also crying but i think it’s unrelated [Boo]: HE’S HOLDING HER HAND [Boo]: I’M GOING TO ASCEND

—

You’re stunned. Frozen.

Jun steps closer, voice softer now. “Y/N, you don’t have to say anything. But I had to tell you. Because this was supposed to be a study in emotional bonding, and somewhere along the line, I fell in love.”

You stare.

And then you laugh—wet, shocked.

“Jun,” you whisper, “I was in love with you four weeks ago. When you spilled tea on my laptop and offered to buy me a new one.”

He blinks. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “But the hallway kiss helped.”

The entire room loses it.

—

You’re still holding hands when your professor says, “A+, obviously. But please consider my blood pressure next time.”

Jun bows politely. You wave, dazed. The class claps like you just ended a K-drama. Someone’s live-streaming. A flower lands on your head.

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Joshua]: does this mean they’re dating [DK]: DO WE THROW A PARTY [Woozi]: i’m making a playlist [Jeonghan]: i’m making a drinking game [Soonyoung]: IM MAKING A TIKTOK [Minghao]: i’m making a legally binding marriage certificate [Boo]: [attached: selfie, red-eyed, cheeks blotchy, surrounded by tissue] [Boo]: love is real [Boo]: i need electrolytes

—

7. Commence Emotional Graduation (w/ Seungkwan’s Fanclub)

Graduation day arrives like a fever dream. Caps flying. Gowns flapping. Sunglasses hiding tears. A dangerously unstable crowd of proud parents, confused siblings, and one emotionally possessed group chat ready to combust.

You’re standing in line to cross the stage, half-listening to the Dean’s speech and trying not to cry into your honor cords. Beside you, Jun is adjusting his gown and whispering nonsense like:

“Did you eat?” “Is your cap on straight?” “Do I have something in my teeth?” “Should we kiss after we get our diplomas?” “Too much?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, heart soft. “All of it. But I love you anyway.”

He beams so wide you almost cry again.

—

Meanwhile...

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: LISTEN UP [Boo]: THE TIME HAS COME [Joshua]: oh no [Woozi]: what have you done [DK]: i’m scared [Boo]: I AM OFFICIALLY LAUNCHING [Boo]: THE JUN × Y/N FANCLUB [Minghao]: of course [Jeonghan]: we knew this was coming [Soonyoung]: DO WE GET SHIRTS [Boo]: ALREADY MADE [Boo]: [attached: “I Believed in the Science” t-shirt] [Mingyu]: bro [Vernon]: incredible [Boo]: there’s a tier system [Boo]: GOLD = saw them kiss live [Boo]: SILVER = cried during the final presentation [Boo]: PLATINUM = emotionally unwell since week 4 [Joshua]: so we’re all platinum [Woozi]: against my will

—

You cross the stage.

Your name is called. The applause is normal—until SEUNGKWAN SCREAMS from the back row, holding a hand-painted fanclub banner. (Soonyoung is next to him tossing mini confetti cannons.)

You’re pretty sure the Chancellor flinches.

Then Jun crosses.

The crowd, already unstable, reaches concert-level intensity. Someone blows a kazoo. Vernon is live-streaming. Mingyu is crying. The professor who gave you an A+ on your final project wipes a single tear and nods like she’s raised you both herself.

—

After the ceremony, the chaos continues.

You’re bombarded with hugs, selfies, and “tell us everything” questions from your group chat. Seungkwan makes you pose in front of a giant “Science of Love” poster he made himself. Soonyoung forces Jun into a glitter-filled TikTok. Woozi plays an acoustic guitar version of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” while Joshua harmonizes.

Jeonghan casually hands you a champagne bottle and whispers, “You survived academia and fell in love. You deserve this.”

—

Later, you and Jun sneak away. Sit quietly on the edge of campus, overlooking the courtyard full of chaos you’ve come to love.

He nudges your shoulder. “So... post-grad. What now?”

You smile. “We keep experimenting. With this. Us.”

He leans in. “For science?”

You laugh into his kiss. “For love.”

—

[Group Chat: Science Is a Scam (feat. Love)] [Boo]: THEY’RE KISSING AGAIN [DK]: I’M CRYING AGAIN [Woozi]: we should’ve majored in drama [Minghao]: we basically did [Soonyoung]: LET’S THROW A REUNION EVERY YEAR [Joshua]: …we’re still on campus? [Jeonghan]: shut up and let the moment happen [Vernon]: i’m writing a poem [Mingyu]: i’m hungry [Boo]: i’m full [Boo]: FULL OF EMOTION

masterlist ♪

339 notes · View notes

revelboo · 1 month ago

Note

Not to be another birthday ask (also 26, how fun!) But having seen you do these before I figured I'd ask- would you ever consider doing a reader + simpatico nsfw fic?

Sure and happy birthday!

🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Simpatico

Preceptor x Reader x Brainstorm

• “Wait-wait,” Brainstorm groans as you start laughing, trying to hook your legs around his waist to hang on and he hears Perceptor clear his vents. “Frag.” Just knows Percy is about to suggest they give up on this experiment and he’s not ready to call it quits yet. Science involves setbacks sometimes. And he’s going to make this work. Needs it to work so bad it hurts.

• The blood’s rushing to your head and you don’t know how Brainstorm talked you into this. As you swing back from your harness, hair in your face and upside down, you bump into Perceptor. Giggling when he hooks an arm around you to keep you from swinging back Brainstorm’s ways, the two of you spinning slightly. Because upside down sex had sounded fun. For all of five seconds. As you and Percy slowly swing watching Brainstorm struggle to figure out how to swing to you both, you feel lips brush against your neck and relax into Percy.

• Turning you in his arms, his lips twitch when you hook your legs around his waist with a small ‘hi.’ Heels digging into him as you trap his straining spike between your bodies like you’re determined that he’s not escaping. The feeling’s mutual. Hands on your hips, trying to line your bodies up, he finally drives into your slick heat, having to hold you in place to keep from slipping free of you. And Brainstorm crashes into you both, the three of you spinning as you scream, laughing. “Too much freedom of movement,” Perceptor growls, moving you along his spike as Brainstorm swears and hangs onto you both.

• Listening to your laughter slide into a moan, Brainstorm hooks his peds against Perceptor’s to keep from getting separated. The three of you still slowly spinning as you press your face into Percy’s neck, letting the other bot do all the work. And he’s got a point, they’re swinging more than he’d expected. Needs to work on that, servos cupping your butt, he grinds against your soft skin, reaching to grip one of Percy’s arms to keep you pinned between them. Listening to your little noises as you writhe, breath hitching. Loves watching you and Percy at it. Seeing how long the other boy can keep in control before you shatter it and he gets wild with you.

• Maybe it’s the head rush from being upside down, but your body is heating fast, gearing up for your climax as you squirm between them both, feeling their heated frames surrounding you, hearing their venting growls and groans, and that alien, metallic musk of theirs thickens in the air. Aware that you’re begging you’re so close, need him to just be a little rougher, to let go and you dig your heels into him, bucking your own hips to chase that high. Don’t even realize Brainstorm’s retracted his mask until he bites your shoulder, shuddering with his overload against the small of your back and you come apart at that little sting of his denta on your skin. Arching between them as Perceptor groans, hips snapping before he’s overloading hard. Feeling their slick running up your body, Percy’s spattering against your cheek as the three of you lazily swing. Dimly aware of them exchanging notes about the sex as you roll your eyes with exasperated affection.

#transformers x reader #valveplug #perceptor x reader #perceptor #brainstorm x reader #mtmte brainstorm

175 notes · View notes

neiptune · 9 months ago

Text

i don't want you like a best friend

cw: 4.2k wc, female reader, soulmate au, friends to lovers, tendo may be the only person in the world without a mark and it's quite hard to convince him that, most times, the universe doesn't know shit

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I ever tasted”.

“Don’t lie”.

“I’m not!”.

Tendo narrows his eyes, unimpressed.

“You said that about the last five bonbons”.

“Listen, the one with port and cinnamon was great n’all but this is a cookie dough brown butter bonbon. I’m blown away. I want to sleep with this one. I want to buy it dinner and then take it to bed”.

That’s when Satori laughs, loud and boisterous as he still allows himself to be around you. It makes you smile, seeing him happy.

“Tell me the secret to crafting these”.

“Again?”, he snorts, “I already explained the process a million times”.

“Wanna hear it again. I like how you talk about it”.

“Okay, weirdo”, there’s fondness and a silent invitation in the way he pushes the little box of his latest experiments towards you.

It’s soothing, comforting, listening to instructions you’re already familiar with. Tendo goes over how important it is to choose flavors that are fun and still be attentive enough to make sure the chocolate stands on its own: flavoring components should never completely ride over it. He skillfully exercises subtlety when coming up with new combinations, always keeps the interior so creamy and smooth the treat ends up melting in a delicious puddle on one’s tongue. The outer layer should never be too thick, chalky or cakey: that’s why he prefers to form most of the chocolates with his hands instead of using a mold.

There’s creativity involved in what he does but there’s also science. It requires a lot of patience, most of his work is made of tedious steps repeated over and over again within specific time limits and a perfectly calculated temperature. It fits him, you believe: Tendo’s always been diligent and persevering, no matter what the world threw at him.

He puts a lot of work in his boxes too, especially the ones he has to ship. They’re all triple-insulated, double-stuffed and always perfectly packed. A cute, colorful thank you card always goes hand in hand with each purchase, if he receives orders for a birthday or a special gift he’d even write a personal note as an addition. As a foreigner, it hasn't been easy to establish himself as a reliable chocolatier in a city like Paris, but he now has a pretty loyal clientele and the shop is basically never empty.

“That one’s my favorite”, Satori’s eyes zero on the bite-sized bonbon you’ve picked from the box.

You hum, appreciating the way the chocolate melts in your mouth. It’s not as good as the previous one but you recognize the artistry with which the flavors fuse with each other, chocolate ganache with clementine and hazelnuts, just a hint of lemon zest.

“They’re all incredible, ‘Tori. You’re very talented”. Tendo smiles.

“Thank you”, he mutters, grateful, “now, can we talk about it?”.

“There’s nothing to talk about”, you dangle your legs from the counter of the little production kitchen in the back of his boutique shop, closed for the day. It’s incredibly tidy, smells of soap and citrus.

“You impulsively booked a flight across the world because of a guy”.

Ouch.

“I flew across the world to visit my best friend”, you scowl, “thought he’d be happy to see me”.

“I’m fucking ecstatic, ma chérie”, it’s probably the happiest he’s been in years, “but we need to talk about it. Tell me what’s on your mind?”.

He can see the bags under your eyes, the usual brightness missing from your smile, playful vibration to your jokes absent. He knows you’re hurting and while he’d be thrilled to keep you in Paris for as long as you wish, Tendo has to know what’s broken before he even attempts to mend it. His gaze falls on a specific portion of skin of your wrist and a sigh slips past his lips.

“He broke up with me”, you articulate slowly, “said we weren’t compatible. Said it’s safer to abandon the delusional ideas that drew us close to each other and do things how they’re supposed to be done. According to the plan”, there’s a grimace on your face that pairs well with how you spit out the last words.

“Did you show him?”.

“No, you know I don’t do that anymore. He didn’t see mine and I never wanted to see his. He agreed to that”.

“Right”.

“And then, I don’t know, he did what everyone always does. Changed his mind”.

Satori sighs. Truthfully, he’s always been a little sad about your mark being permanently covered with thick foundation, concealer or whatever else. It’s been years. He misses seeing the little crooked triangle on your wrist.

“Well, maybe…”, he starts but is soon interrupted by a loud scoff.

“Don’t”.

“But they’re not wrong. The universe has it all layed out for you, maybe it’s time you stop being so stubborn”.

“I don’t care about the universe, Satori. The universe is not going to take away that choice from me, it should belong to me. I don’t want to be destined to someone, I want to be chosen by them”.

He deflates in the plastic chair he’s sitting on. Can’t really argue with that logic.

Ever since middle school, when your mark first appeared, you never wanted to succumb to the whole the cosmos has already decided who the perfect person for me is bullshit. You simply can’t accept giving up the freedom of falling in love with whoever you wish to pursue, regardless of the universe agreeing or not. That’s why you never really cared about matching marks and all that jazz, always dated those who seemed not to care either. But after a number of failed relationships, it became painfully obvious that deep down, everyone always believes marks are the real deal. It’s why you decided you never wanted to see the mark of the next guys you’d date, and certainly didn’t want to show yours anymore. Sometimes it’s even hard to remember it’s still there, underneath stubborn layers of concealer. You hated it your whole life.

“You’re right. It’s your life, you should live it however you see fit”, they’re idiots for giving up on someone like you in the name of a dumb sign or whatever anyway.

“I thought you’d understand this more than anyone, you’ve always hidden your mark too. I don’t even know what it looks like and it’s okay! It’s yours! Shouldn’t belong to anyone else’s prying eyes”, you pick another chocolate truffle from the special box he’s sorted for you. It’s red velvet flavored.

Tendo insisted on calling his shop like that, rouge velours, deaf to the literal translation not being entirely correct. The french need to associate the word gâteau to it, it has to be a red velvet cake. But he didn’t care, adamant in going with just red velvet.

It was a joke you had blurted out at the end of high school, sitting on the curb outside your favorite konbini on the way home, another summer evening made of snacks shared underneath the street lamps. Satori said he wanted to move to France and learn how to make handmade chocolates, open a shop and everything. You suggested it should’ve been called red velvet, would’ve paired well with his hair. It never crossed your mind that he would take your suggestion seriously.

Frankly, Tendo’s not changed much since high school. He’s a little taller, broader in the shoulders, prefers a buzz cut. He’s still cheerful, less loud if you’re not around, enjoys singing made up tunes to himself while he works, occasionally takes part in volleyball games when neighbors or friends from the gym invite him. More than anything, he’s still the kindest, most generous friend one could have.

You used to be a little jealous of Ushijima, never one to accept easily to be downgraded in the best friends ranking system. As a teenager, it was hard to acknowledge that Satori’s heart is simply big enough to fit everyone he cares about in there. Not many people realized how much of an honor that was anyway, so there was plenty of space.

He still calls Ushijima to check up on him and the fact that they declared to be best friends during a television show didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth as it would’ve back then. Wakatoshi is a nice guy, it definitely grew on you and it now gives you comfort knowing that Satori gets to throw the blanket of his affection over more than one person’s shoulders.

Not a day goes by without missing him, different time zones making it even more complicated to keep up with each other. Yet, he’s always the one willing to stay up late to talk to you, insists that while you work in the morning, he enjoys crafting chocolates in the middle of the night. That hardly matters, since you know he has to wake up early to open the shop.

“Hard to hide something you don’t have”, he grins from where he’s sitting, in front of you. Your dangling legs come to a halt.

“What?”.

“I don’t have a mark”, Satori shrugs, “not a big deal”.

“That’s impossible”.

“You’ve seen me naked”.

“Because you didn’t lock the damn bathroom door!”, your face heats up at the memory belonging to so many years ago. He snickers.

“Well, if I had a mark you’d know!”.

You pause, incredulous.

“Did you check your nails? Maybe it was in your hair and you shaved it off. Everyone has a mark!”.

“I don’t have it”, he knows, he’s checked every inch of his body for too long before giving up, “don’t act so shocked, it makes perfect sense”.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”.

Satori shrugs, a timid smile on his lips.

“I’m damaged goods. I wouldn’t expect to be the right fit for anyone, the universe decided to spare me and a potential unfortunate match the embarrassment”.

To him, it’s perfectly normal that there’s no one right for him out there. Or rather, that he’s not the right person for anyone. Who would want that, anyway? The guy who’s always been too weird to be looked at normally. The guy who always stands out the wrong way. If the universe has decided to be merciful enough to spare him the disappointment flashing over someone’s face upon discovering that he’s their soulmate, the only thing Tendo should feel is gratitude.

“Don’t say shit like that ever again, Satori. Damaged goods? What the hell? You’re the best person I know!”, you almost throw the chocolate box at his head, “anyone would be lucky to have you as their soulmate. Anyone. I’m certain you’re the perfect match for a lot of people but I find it very hard to believe they’d deserve you anyway”.

You’re his best friend, you’re supposed to say all that. Yet, kept silent by that fiery glare of yours, Tendo can’t help but feel his chest warm up.

He didn’t necessarily have a crush on you in high school, that’s what he told himself anyway. When you started going out with Eita, part of him was relieved you went for someone normal. His teammate fell into the right category: Semi was attractive, had good grades, knew his way around girls. It was a good reminder of what Tendo wanted for you, of what you deserved. He cared deeply about your happiness and would’ve went to impossible lengths to shield you from all the bad there was in the world. That still hasn’t changed. Your best friend was what he was always destined to be and it was more than what he could’ve asked for, anyway.

And so it wouldn’t have been right to fantasize, to admit to himself that for the first time ever since he was a kid, Tendo wished to be the opposite of what he was. He dreamed of a different childhood, school days filled with friends, practice bursting with laughter instead of whispers, not a reason in the world to direct him curious or grossed out stares. He wished he was handsome, charismatic, funny in a way that made girls laugh in sincere amusement instead of discomfort. He wanted so badly to be everything he was not, for you.

When he admitted to himself that he loved you, deeply, ferociously, in a way that would’ve scared off any other human being, high school was over and so was his volleyball dream. Another fantasy coming to an end. Satori announced he wanted to move to Paris, expecting life, distance, a different time zone, your boyfriends, to make the friendship too heavy of a task to keep up with.

And yet, you stayed by his side. Most importantly, you wanted him to stay by yours. Tendo has never been much used to the feeling of being wanted, his presence wasn’t exactly desired by other people throughout his life. But you and Paris both taught him that maybe he does have something to give, something people can be willing to accept. So what if that something isn’t romantic love? He’s already luckier than he ever imagined he would get. He’s going to be okay, as long as you’re his friend. He’ll manage.

“Satori”, you snap him back to reality, “I mean it. Fuck the universe”.

Honestly, the only thing he’s mad at the universe for is making you so deeply unhappy. Tendo’s not sure he can forgive the cosmos for failing you so many times.

“Yeah”, he agrees lightly, “fuck the universe”.

Maybe Tendo had a point when he referred to your little vacation as ‘impulsive’, given that you never really travelled outside of Japan before. Yet, what initially was an easy escape from your disappointing reality and a wonderful excuse to finally visit your best friend, soon turned into a delightful adventure.

You reciprocated Satori’s hospitality by being as useful as possible: you’d keep his place tidy and clean, get groceries, cook dinner. He’d insist on ordering out, would try to snatch the vacuum cleaner from your hand, sometimes Tendo would come home later than usual with his hands filled with groceries just so that you didn’t feel like you needed to refill the fridge. But you liked being there and you loved taking care of him, especially since he vehemently refused to go back to sleeping in his bed and offering you the couch instead.

On his rare free days, Satori gladly gives you a tour of the city and his favorite places. When he’s working, you’d explore Paris on your own, the little map he drew by hand safely nestled in your pocket. Yes, you obviously have a phone, but the map makes each stroll all the more special.

Being with him and feeling genuinely appreciated, in a city so wonderful and far away from home, made you realize that perhaps the universe got it all wrong. Maybe there’s no one out there with a mark similar to yours. Maybe you’re not a match for romantic love in the first place. You’re already lucky enough as it is, with a friend so wonderful you can share lovely dinners with over episodes of silly tv shows, in a tiny apartment filled with affection and laughter. It’s the best you’ve felt in years and the idea of leaving has never felt as dreadful.

But everyone has to get back to their life eventually: there’s your job, bills, rent, you haven’t visited your parents in a while. All these things you’re having a real hard time caring about as Tendo offers another glass of wine, the bottle you’re sharing practically empty resting by his feet.

It’s your last night in Paris and he insisted on cooking for once, a full course dinner paired with an expensive Clos de la Roche. Notes of woods and cherries dance on your tongue when you take another sip and you shut your eyes for a moment, savoring the taste. How did you end up on his bedroom’s floor anyway? Was it him who suggested sitting on the carpet with your backs pressed against his bed? No, you’re almost certain it was you. Satori tries to be less weird as a grown up, by his own admission: he leaves odd suggestions and ideas to other people, too busy trying to fit in now.

You find yourself observing his profile as he torpidly blinks, his own gaze focused on the hands holding his glass. The line of his jaw, the perfect curve of his nose. You think he’s pretty, spiky hair no longer there to tear away one’s attention from his features.

“Did you date a lot, here?”, you ask, genuinely curious. He turns to look at you, amused.

“A lot? When did I ever date a lot?”, Tendo chuckles to himself but you recognize the hurt simmering underneath the humor. It hurts you, too.

“Well, did you date?”, your impatience feels surprising but there’s no time to dwell upon unfamiliar feelings, not as Satori hums with a lethargic nod.

“Yeah, a few times”.

“They didn’t ask about your mark?”.

Tendo’s lips twitch as he remembers how ecstatic the women he went out with were upon finding out that not only his mark didn’t match theirs, he didn’t even have one to begin with. He was the safest option they could ever date, no risk of forever.

“It’s easier to date someone you know you’re not gonna end up with”, he shrugs, “they felt more comfortable, it was fun and momentary, thus risk-free”.

You click your tongue in disapproval and Tendo cocks his head, confused by your scowl.

“They, they, they. I always hated this about you, you’re always focusing on what other people think. I want to know, how did you feel?”.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that you’re about to become a fugitive presence in his life once more, but for once Satori feels like huffing out his frustration.

“Like shit”, he admits with a sly smile, “I could fall for just about anyone and I’ll always know they’re not my person. I won’t ever have a person and it makes me feel like shit”.

You’re not sure why tears are suddenly pricking the corners of your eyes. Maybe it’s because it’s really hard to remember the last time Satori allowed himself to be vulnerable around you. It always felt like he talked more to Wakatoshi, man to man or whatever. You never felt like you could be fully there for him and now it’s almost too late again, only a few hours before you fly off to the other side of the world.

“I hate them”, you murmur, “it’s just cruel. You’re not supposed to be anyone’s temporary fixing”.

“I’m not ever going to be anything but that”.

“No, Satori-”, in the process of positioning yourself better in order to face him, you kick the not entirely empty glass previously resting by your leg. It’s gonna leave a stain but you’ll find a way to take care of it before you leave, this is more urgent. This requires you taking your friend’s face into your hands, to bring it closer to your determined gaze. “That’s not true. The universe doesn’t know shit, okay? I know you. You don’t need a fucking mark. In fact, you know what? I’m happy you don’t have one. Thank god. I-”, he gently puts his hands over yours and leans over to tenderly kiss your forehead. Your train of thought derails as he fixes you with an amused, fond stare.

“It’s okay. Really”, Tendo lowers your hands and then leaves them cold, head falling to the side, cheek pressed to the orange duvet cover of his bed. You’re pouting, looking more beautiful than ever underneath the dim lights of his room, and so he can’t hold his tongue.

“You know, I find it incredible that you haven’t been able to find your person yet, universe or not. How’s it possible that someone as wonderful as you is being dumped by complete idiots just because they believe in some stupid pre-decided romantic assignation?”.

You mirror his position and rest your head on the softness of his bed. Despite being still on the floor, it almost feels as if you’re lying next to each other.

“They don’t believe I’m wonderful. I guess I’m just momentary, too”.

He scoffs. Deep down, Tendo also believes everyone should be granted the freedom to pursue their desired relationship, especially you. Don’t they know how lucky they are? You ignore destiny to give those dumbasses a chance and they leave before they even get to realize what they’re missing out upon.

“I think marks are bullshit”, Satori gently takes your hand and traces your fingers with his own slowly, eyes still boring into yours, “in a world with no marks, they’d be on their knees thanking their lucky star you showed interest in them at all”.

You hum, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Before Tendo interrupted your little motivational speech, you were about to tell him why it makes you happy that he doesn’t have a mark after all. Looking at him now, it’s all the more clear. It’s horrible and selfish and childish but, this way, you will never have to go through it: you’ll never have to find out that the one person who’s always been by your side, the one person who knows you better than you know yourself and still manages to love you, also isn’t the one.

Tendo is the greatest person you know, the only one you’d trust with your life. His heart is your favorite part of him: always stayed big enough to fit in all those who asked for access, kindness embedded so deep within him he never let the world’s cruelty affect it. Satori never stored an ounce of that nastiness people loved oh so much throwing at him, it let it become an armor instead. Steel made of insults, cruel jokes, mockery. It breaks your heart that he still wears it. It would break your heart to discover that someone like him isn’t destined to be yours after all, that the universe wouldn’t be benevolent enough to assign the best friend you ever had as your soulmate.

“You don’t mean that”.

You blink, slowly, actually fighting to keep your eyes open.

“What?”.

“What you just said. You’re drunk”, he chuckles quietly and, horrifyingly, you realize your mouth decided to voice those thoughts out loud.

The shock lasts a few seconds. Tendo is no longer fiddling with your fingers but your hand is still in his and the more you look into those crimson irises, the less uncomfortable you feel about what you just said. Is it the wine or is it just right?

“You think I wouldn’t be happy if the universe assigned you as my soulmate?”.

“I think you wouldn’t hate it”, Tendo softly ponders, “but that’d be far from ideal”.

“Hey, you don’t get to decide that. Me and the universe would be agreeing for once”.

Satori swears his heart skips a bit. All those years, all that badly harbored hope, the entirety of his restraint crumbling pathetically after a few drops of expensive wine. You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that.

“You could look at me like that?”, the question is supposed to underline how ridiculous the idea is, but he realizes he just sounds wishful.

“I know you think it’d be hard but it really isn’t”, you laugh softly. You’re looking at him like that right now. As you abstendmindedly play with his fingers, thumb gently rubbing circles on the skin of his wrist, you appreciate the pink dusting his cheeks, the slightly furrowed brows, the sweetness of his questioning gaze.

Tendo exhales slowly. Neither of you is resting their head on his bed anymore, too captivated by each other. “I’m not sure I’d survive the discovery of you of all people, not being the one I’d be destined to stand with for the rest of my life. Because what a waste would be, for that person to be someone else”, it’s nothing but a whisper, raw honesty doing something funny to his stomach as it slips past his lips for the first time. There’s no one but you, honestly. He knows there’ll never be anyone else. The universe has planned love for those around him and an eternal curse for his heart.

“A terrible waste”, you agree and the hand not busy interlacing your fingers with his, suddenly closes around the soft fabric of his hoodie to bring him closer. Satori doesn’t dare move, let alone breathe, effectively paralyzed by the idea of indulging something you’ll regret the second it happens.

Except you don’t. When you kiss him, tentative at first, all the pieces fall right into place. Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile as the world slows down. Then finally, finally, he kisses you back. It’s deeper, a hand pressing to your cheek, it’s corrodingly tender and you feel yourself melting into his touch, into the genuine reverence he holds for you.

Tendo feels something unravel from within, the tangles and knots of hurt, uncertainty, combust and disappear into thin ashes. He’s too lost in the moment, too drunk on how close you’re holding him as your tongue brushes against his own, to pay any attention to the itchy feeling over the skin of his wrist. Right where your thumb is pressing, a crooked triangle appears at last.

#tendo x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendo x you #satori tendo x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader

428 notes · View notes

xandoria · 3 months ago

Text

Wolverine Dad

As someone who cannot understand the sexual attraction of Logan, for he looks like my dad, I present: Logan being a trauma dad.

Logan doesn't remember any of the X-Men birthdays, but he knows exactly what smells upset them and which will help them calm down.

Logan doesn't know where any of their family member's names, but he remembers the reason why Scott and Jean cry on the day of the crashes.

Logan can't tell you what they're studying or teach, but he knows what their hearts sound like when they get in too deep.

Logan doesn't recall who is dating who, but he remembers who hurt them for being different.

Logan trashtalks Scott because it makes Cyclops feel human for a moment, like more than a tool for the mutant cause.

Logan can tell you exactly how long he can touch Rogue before he starts dying, because even a moment of comfort helps her sleep at night.

Logan can tell the difference between Jean and the Phoenix, and treats them as individuals, because they deserve at least that.

Logan acts more animalistic around Kurt because it reminds him that his demonic appearance doesn't make him one.

Logan lets Hank ramble about his experiments despite clenching up every time because as much as science scares him, Hank needs someone to listen without looking at his fur in pity.

Logan will send Charles on a wild goose chase to get him away from the school, so he remembers he's not a general, but a principal.

Logan will sing Egyptian and Wakandan songs with Storm when her heart aches for her homes.

Logan travels with the girls on shopping trips despite hating the mall in case someone decides to target them, either as mutants or as women, so they don't have to when they should have fun.

Logan attends every sport event the school has despite understanding nothing, because these kids need someone to support them.

Logan doesn't know what to say when the kids start crying, but he wraps around them protectively, growling at anyone who gets too close.

Logan can't say he cares about them, but he paces through the mansion at night, listening to their heartbeats and breaths to make sure they're still alive.

Logan won't admit it, but every time they lose another X-Men, he mourns for months, lamenting the death of another friend, another student, another child.

Logan will never say it, but he will do anything his kids ask him to.

#wolverine #logan howlett #james howlett #headcanon #x men #Logan is a father #and super traumatized

158 notes · View notes

bigwishes · 1 year ago

Text

Big Man on Campus

(a trade with @alphajocklover)

Trent had been going to college for almost 4 years at this point, he was 21 and steadily approaching his 22nd birthday and approaching his graduation even faster. He had spent most of his time inside, working on his computer engineering degree or gaming. He didn't really care for the college party scene, he'd much rather stay in his tidy little single all weekend until monday classes.

but when it finally sank in how close it was to being over Trent couldn't help but have a little bit of regret, should he have hit the gym with the other guys on his floor? should he have joined the casual rowing team just for some fun and exercise? was computer science really what he wanted a degree in? Senior doubt and regret flooded his mind, but there was still an upside. 4 months were left, 4 months he'd make the most of.

Trent went on the college forums looking for something to do, he thought about a few of the options but found two that he really liked. The first was a dungeons and dragons club the second was listen as an exercise club but it also seemed to be a project for two sport science students.

Transformation Experiment Ground: "Our names are Brody and Clark, we are looking for young males on campus who are out of shape looking to get in shape and help with our experiment. Come form a sense of community, get the body you desire and help us with our research!" Monday came and classes went. Normally Trent would go home and smash out a few ours gaming but it was time for his clubs to start. First he had the sport experiment thing, the only issue was he only had a few minutes to get to the dnd club across campus, but he wasn't sure how sweaty he'd get or if he'd need a shower. He just had to hope there was a shower at the campus gym.

Trent checked his phone, he thought he was going to the campus gym but the address was for a room in the athlete scholarship dorms. Trent walked passed the gym and into the building next to it. The halls had photos of previous college athletes plastered up between the doors.

Finally he arrived, right on time, room 223. Trent raised his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open. Standing before him was a jacked guy with spiked blonde hair in a black tank and grey sweat pants and standing next to him just slightly down the hall was an equally jacked dude with shaggy brown hair in the same outfit.

"hey bro what's up I'm Brody and just over there is Clark"

Brody stuck out his hand but when Trent went to shake it he realised Brody was waiting for a fist bump not a hand shake, Trent awkwardly closed up his hand and bumped Brody's fist. Clark let out a douchey laugh that echoed out the door.

"Come in man, come in"

"You are, the only one comin" Clark sighed

"oh, was I the only one who signed up?"

Trent started to get anxious, guys who looked like this normally bullied him and now he was going to be on his own with them for an hour. Trent made his way into the room, following Brody and Clark.

The athlete dorms were so much bigger than the other rooms he'd been in. There was a large lounge space with a small kitchen, a door to a private bathroom and two bedrooms either side of the lounge.

In the corner of the lounge there was a small fold out chair and table. On the table were 5 green vials and what looked to be an oculus rift stripped down to its basic components.

"so ummm, where do we start with like a workout plan?"

"nah dude, I mean I can totally write you one but this is a bit more of a series of practice experiments" Brody said as he walked over to the small table

"get him hooked up man, I'm gonna grab my laptop with the video"

Trent followed Brody over to the small fold out chair

"its nothing too fancy but our class mates got the actual sports lab, apparently our experiment is pseudo-science"

"what exactly are you guys studying?"

"we are trying to see if active suggestion and nutrients redirection can get people to actively pursue fitness"

"oh damn, I just thought this was like, a workout class" Trent sat down as Brody began setting up the make shift visor. "if you don't mind me asking, what are you guys majoring in?"

"well I'm getting a double major in bio-chemistry and psychology"

"and I'm getting a double major in computer engineering and software development" Clark said as he walked back in carrying an open laptop

Trent's jaw almost dropped to the floor, he'd come here thinking he was going to be made to workout by two dumb jocks who were just going to scribble times on a napkin, but instead he's participating in a proper experiment designed by two people probably leagues smarter than him.

"okay man its real easy, we are gonna hook up an image display for a few minutes and you'll take a shot of this" Clark said as he handed over one of the small green vials.

"errrr, is it safe?"

Clark burst out laughing and Brody couldn't help but crack a smile.

"yeah man, its just a diet supplement you can get offline, fda approved, basically it tells your muscles they want to hold water and your fat cells to burn"

Trent downed the green liquid as Clark flicked the visor down over his eyes. There was a short beep sound before images began to flash on the visor. Flashes of guys working out, of dumbbells and the words you are a jock and you love working out and muscle.

Trent couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry guys this is so corny" He laughed.

The other two began to chuckle as well as the room filled with laughter.

"Look dude, Its the closest thing I could find on YouTube, its about the suggestions" Clark laughed

Suddenly the lights in the room began to flicker and all 3 globes in the lounge burnt out at once.

"what the-" Brody and Clark said in unison, but they were interrupted when sparks began to fly off the oculus. They rushed to try and take it off Trent but were shocked by the electricity. Sparks shout out of the power point in the wall and the two boys watched helplessly as Trent began to convulse in his seat.

Trent let out a painful and stalled out moan as the electricity travelled over the oculus and shocked his temples.

The room was dark was illuminated every few seconds by a shock or spark and the two boys could swear they could see something, something happening to Trent's body. A few more seconds passed before it finally stopped.

Brody and Clark stood there stunned, the sound of beeping could be heard from the kitchen as the oven entered safety mode, but a more concerning noise echoed in the boys ears. The sound of sizzling. Clark carefully walked over to the curtains and opened them, the room filling with light and showing them what had happened to Trent.

He sat in the chair with his head slumped forward, his chin hitting his chest as smoke was rising off the device on his head and all over his body. But what the two saw in the dark wasn't a trick of the light, Trent had indeed gotten bigger. His skinny fat body had expanded, he'd become more lean, his muscles more pronounced and most of the fat on his body had melted away.

Trent let out a moan as a string of drool fell from his mouth

"OH THANK FUCK HE'S ALIVE" Clark cried out with a sigh of relief.

The two rushed over and pulled the device off his head. Trent's eyes instantly responded as he looked up at the two of them.

"wooahh bro, huhu, that was intence" Trent mumbled

"yeah, thank god you're okay" said Brody.

Trent lifted his arm to the side and flexed his bicep and let out a dumb chuckle.

"errr, dude, real quick, what's your name?"

"Trent, duuuhuhuhu, you fuckin forgetful bro?"

Trent seemed okay but something was wrong, even with the short interaction the three of them had, Clark and Brody knew something had happened to him.

"hey Trent, what are you" Brody asked

Trent smirked as he lifted his other arm, completing a double bicep pose.

"a jock, duuuhuhuhu"

Trent stood up and effortlessly pushed passed the two as he started heading towards the door.

"well at least we know his motor functions weren't damaged"

Clark and Brody quickly followed him

"Dude, I really think you should go to the medical centre"

"Nah bro, I got dnd like NOW I gotta boost"

"wait Trent!" Clark yelled out "err, dnd thats an interesting hobbie for a jock, what else are you into"

Trent spun around on the spot with a big smirk on his face

"glad you asked dude, I love three things, gymmin, gamin, dndenin..dndin.....dndining....." Trent's voice trailed off as he tried to finish forming his catchy sentence

"and, what about your major? what are you studying?" Brody asked

"errr huhuhu, like, what's a major?" Trent said turning around to leave again

"FUCK DUDE I THINK WE ACTUALLY FRIED HIS BRAIN" Clark started to panic

"I mean, yeah, but it seems like his core interests and that jock hypno video have combined into a new personality, I dunno if we friend his brain more, re-wrote it"

"DUDE NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME FOR YOUR INTEREST IN THE HUMAN BRAIN WE FUCKING CREATED GYM BRO FRANKENSTIEN"

Trent walked out the door into the crowded hallway. Students were all talking over the top of each other in front of their dorm rooms trying to work out what was going on. The two boys raced out to follow Trent.

"Trent dude wait!, errr, tell me about your dnd character" Brody called out desperately trying to stop him from leaving

Trent continued to power forward through the crowd, pushing through them like water with his new powerful body.

"well bro, I was gonna play some like, lil spell caster dude, but like, i dunno bro, numbers are hard, so like, I think I'm just gonna play, like, some sick fucking, roided out minotaur with a huge axe"

Brody was struggling to keep up with Trent, they both had already lost Clark to the sea of students. Brody grabbed onto the back of Trent's shirt which caused him to stop and turn around.

"woah lil dude, if you wanted some action all you had to do was ask, I got an 8 inch python with your na-"

"WHAT!, ha, oh, no dude, errr, that's" Brody's face turned bright red as he got flustered.

"no? damn too bad, you lil fuckin, science dudes are kinda cute"

Brody was stunned, some how all this muscle and new persona had also added a level of charm to Trent that dug right through to his core. But it was too late to grab his attention again. Trent had already pulled away and gone off out of Brody's sight...

One week had passed since the extreme power surge that had hit the Athlete Scholarship Dorms. There almost wasn't a single incident other than a few blown light bulbs and some damaged electronics....almost. The college had found out about Trent, no matter how hard Brody and Clark tried to hide it. However the two got off lucky. Both the College and the investigation into what happened deemed it was an accident that unfortunately resulted in what was being called "Personality Death". Trent had an entirely healthy body and brain with no signs of damages, but something had happen to completely re-write who and what he was.

The college couldn't let Trent graduate, he couldn't even remember what he had enrolled for, but the college still found a purpose for him. The hid the extreme and sudden body transformation from the investigation and gave Trent a 'job'. His official title was research assistant but he was too stupid for any serious work. His real job was to sit there and be injected with experimental steroids. Forced to grow like some roided out lab rat. Not that he cared, every time Trent put on even an ounce of muscle he'd spend hours in the mirror flexing. He was the biggest guy on campus.

[6 years later]

"okay babe, just hold still"

"aahhh, fuck, it feels so good when it goes in"

"you are so weird, I hate getting injections"

"well huhuhu, when you got a sexy lil piece of meat to do em, its a huge fuckin turn on dude"

Brody stood up from the kitchen table and began to clean up the injection kit, chuckling as he did it.

"Trent, that's so cheesy"

Trent stood up, the sound of wood scraping against the floor filled the room as he effortlessly and accidentally moved the entire dining table.

"will it make me look like Captain America huhuhu?"

"babe...seriously, I think we passed the Captain America stage about 150 pounds ago"

"then hit me with all 6 and make me the hulk" Trent pressed his body against Brody and the table.

Brody was no stranger to 300+ pounds pressing against him "I said no Trent" a slight grin cracked across Brody's face, 'besides, for all I know that one shot will add another 50 pounds, we gotta wait and see."

Trent stood there staring into Brody's eyes with an expression that could only be described as a computer failing to load a basic program 10 times in a row.

"Then jab me with all 6 and give me" Trent stopped to count on his fingers, "120 pounds of muscle" a large smirk crept across his face, proud he was able to do the math in his head.

Brody rolled his eyes and chuckled

"that'd be 300 pounds babe" Brody packed up the rest of the kit and left the kitchen.

Trent went to follow after him, he had hit the gym already today so no other thoughts existed in his mind other than getting attention for how big he was from Brody, but as he walked out the kitchen he caught a glimpse of himself and began flexing in the lounge room mirror, completely forgetting what he had been doing just 2 seconds again...

He was so proud of the roided lab rat he had become...

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation

895 notes · View notes

honeytonedhottie · 1 year ago

Text

maintaining/creating a social life⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

ok so i used to have HORRIBLE social anxiety and i think that the contrast between me with social anxiety and me now is INSANE. in a good way ofc. so im not going to talk about how i overcame social anxiety, instead im going to talk about how i created a social life ✨

MAKING FRIENDS ;

the science of making friends is simple and im about to explain it. so go to where there are ppl that u can relate to/want to relate to. example being school, clubs, etc.

next, observe who u want to befriend and make sure to start with a compliment. starting off by introducing urself just makes for an awkward conversation but starting with a compliment puts u and the other party at ease.

something thats rly important is ur CHARISMA and ur magnetic energy so be CHARMING ✨ if u find that the other party is not reciprocating its either they're uncomfy, uninterested, or just a weirdo. and in all cases, you should stop.

MAKING FRIENDS THRU FRIENDS ;

make friends with your friends friends -> make friends with their friends -> and so on and so forth. this is how you network and create a friendly status with lots of people.

if ur in a school setting like i am, make friends with people in ur own grade or in a higher up grade, i dont usually make friends with ppl in lower grades but ofc there are always exceptions.

making friends through friends is how u get invited to parties, have more opportunities be available to you, and ofc network for more connections. guys connections are literally EVERYTHING.

MAKE TIME FOR UR FRIENDS ;

make sure to learn who u call friends. when is their birthday? do they have specific preferences? what kind of music do they listen to? knowing ur friends makes them feel special and thats how u learn to be a good friend. i can make a whole POST about being a good friend cuz i've learned and grown so much with that.

THE POWER OF A COMPLIMENT ;

make it ur mission to give a compliment everyday cuz first off, being nice is HOT so pls be nice and second of all, if ur trying to talk to someone and u start with a compliment i promise that it'll go so much better.

if ur thinking "thats so awkward how will i do that" then the category dont be shy is one that u gotta read cuz girl 💀. if u need an example i'll provide one from my own experience so u can see the power of a compliment.

there was this girl in my spanish class and i always thought that she was so pretty and she seemed so nice. one day we bump into each other in the bathroom and i compliment her hair and makeup, she responds well. we continue to have friendly interactions throughout the rest of the school year and now we are good friends on and off campus.

DONT BE SHY ;

when u make friends please please PLEASE work on ur confidence first. you need to be SURE of yourself. if not, when ur being friendly it could come off as desperation and ppl will humiliate, make fun of and take advantage of u. and thats NOT hot.

be CONFIDENT, you literally have nothing to lose. when u shed ur shyness (thru things like exposure therapy etc) a whole new world is opened up for u bcuz sometimes the only thing holding u back is urself and ur limiting beliefs about urself.

MAKE UR PERSONALITY SHINE ;

make sure that know ur own personality and from knowing that u can find ways in which u can make it shine. no matter what ur personality is though, something that i cannot stress enough is BE NICE.

be friendly and amicable with everyone and stay out of drama and if drama comes to you then stay unbothered 😭. dont try and uproot ur own personality to copy someone else's.

769 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 2 months ago

Text

Concept: Jackson is Holts alter ego.

Holt Hyde is very infamously known as Monster Highs resident DJ. He’s a fun loving, flametastic monster that that just wants to party the night away.

But what many don’t know is that Holt has a terror-fying secret.

He’s part normie.

See his grandfather, Dr Henry Jekyll was obsessed with monsters. He didn’t believe that normies and monsters were as clear cut as people believed.

Dr Jekyll theorised that every normie had a monsterous side contained within them. And in order to truly rid the world of monsters this side needed to be separated.

His experiments were a success, well at least partly for into the world came Mr Edward Hyde. But the two remained as one.

And the longer they spent together, having to learn to work together and having to hide themselves from the normie world.

The two developed a close friendship and Dr Jekyll’s views on monsters began to change. Edward Hyde was everything he wasn’t, everything Jekyll wanted to be.

He was young and carefree, loud and confident and the kindest soul that Jekyll had ever known.

Hyde didn’t make Jekyll worse, he made him want to be better. But when his findings were released the two were met with disdain and fear.

Normies assumed that Jekyll was being possessed and sought to free him from Hyde’s influence.

Only one of them came out of it alive.

Edward Hyde retreated to monster society and hid all traces of his duel nature. He eventually settled down, got married and had a family.

His secret would’ve died with him but then he witnessed his grandson transform before his eyes at his birthday party.

And for all his hatred of normies, Hyde could never hate Jekyll. He saw in this scared boy his old friend and he swore to protect him at all costs.

Holt and Jackson were made aware of each other. In the beginning they resented the other, Holt for being able to live their life freely and Jackson for making them more cautious.

But as time went on they grew closer and now bicker and banter as siblings. Holt was very protective over Jackson and vice versa.

But of course even the best kept secret always gets out.

Holt had declined to DJ for Manny’s party that week. He couldn’t say why because Jackson had a science fair in another town.

Manny didn’t take the news well and went off on how Holt was always cancelling plans for no reason.

Heath stepped in and said it was a family thing that week. But Manny refused too drop it and grabbed Holt’s headphones from him. And said he wouldn’t give them back until he agreed to come.

Terror filled Holt and he begged Manny to give them back. As was Heath who was trying to put some music on his his phone but it was knocked out his hands.

Holts voice began to change, another voice was heard mixed in with his that was growing more stronger.

“Give them back to us!”

And angrier because Jackson was not like Holt in many ways. He was a lot more cunning, a lot more crafty and he seemed to carry on their grandfather’s skill for mad science.

While Holt was terrified Jackson was livid. All he could think of was that this monster had scared his brother and taken something that was rightfully there’s.

And he wasn’t about to let that stand. Shocks rang all around them but Jackson’s attention was on Manny. Heath gave them both a look before high tailing out of there to go find a teacher.

He knew better than to get in the middle of this.

Manny began to insult Jackson and Holt for being a secret normie. But his bravado vanished when a stream of fire shot towards him.

Alas he dodged it.

“What the…but how?! You’re-”

Jackson rolled his eyes growing more and more unimpressed. “Part normie, part monster” he scoffed, man this guy was an idiot.

“You’re going to give me those headphones back.”

“Or what?!”

Jackson smirked.

It was a far cry from Holts playful grin and Manny even took a step back at the sight of it.

“Or I’m going have toasted bull for dinner” he licked his lips for added measure but while disturbed Manny stood his ground.

Jackson shrugged.

“Alright suite yourself but know, you asked for this. Now let’s dance.”

#monster high #monster high g1 #jackson jekyll #holt hyde

70 notes · View notes

nonscathingbullets · 2 months ago

Text

POV: You're dating Chris Knight headcanons! 🧪⚗️🔬

Even though you're not exactly a genius like him, he never goes out of his way to make you feel inferior

He loves taking you swimming just so he can see you in a bathing suit

Anytime you talk down to yourself, he cuts that shit out immediately. Whether it's looks or brains, he never lets your insecurities win.

He has a tendency to explain things so fast that you can't understand a single word, and when you look at him confused, he'll just give you a big goofy grin

He's so easily distracted by you that it's unreal. He'll be working on something important, and as soon as you walk in and sit in his lap, he knows he's done for.

He loves it when you help him pull pranks or set up fun stuff around the school. It's like a love language for him. Even though you don't really get the heavy science of it all, you're more than willing to help with all the manual stuff and the logistics.

The only thing he's ever gotten angry with you over was cleaning up his dorm. He lectured you for an hour about his genius organization system, and even though you couldn't stand the mess, you let it go.

You were often times on the receiving end of his many experiments. Even though it made you nervous, you trusted him, and seeing as all of them panned out correctly, you continued to be his willful test subject.

He loves that he can be himself around you. Even though he typically doesn't care what others think of him, it was still refreshing to be with someone who could have a somewhat normal romantic relationship with him. Someone who never judges him based on what he can accomplish or what his interests are.

Despite his high IQ, he really appreciated the small talk you would have with him. Sometimes, his brain just craved a break from being "mister smarty pants" all the time.

For your birthday, he built you a robot that could wash, dry, and fold your laundry all on its own. You hated it, and it quickly got moved to the junk closet.

He knew you would stick with him regardless of the circumstances, so when he turned down a job he morally objected to, you were right behind him. (Even if it meant another month of top ramen and late bills)

He was a genius, though, so it didn't really take him very long to settle into a job he could use his intellect for that was for the betterment of mankind.

You got married 3 years after he graduated and had an absolute circus of a reception courtesy of Chris himself.

BONUS HC- you got married the year the Song The Promise by When In Rome came out and it quickly became yours and his song

#real genius #chris knight headcanons #headcanon #my hcs #dating chris knight headcanons #val kilmer #chris knight hcs #chris knight #real genius headcanons #chris knight x you #chris knight x reader

69 notes · View notes

teeth-farie · 2 years ago

Text

Forty Year Old Virgin

Johnathon Ohnn/GN Reader

Notes: virginity, null spot, hole fingering, dry humping, clothed sex, kinda tribadism, spit, alcohol, spot being pathetic, 3.5k

☞. . . Seems like I’m back from my little hiatus!! I actually started writing this fic yesterday and it’s the FASTEST I’ve ever finished one. I blame the spot server I’m in

Johnathon Ohnn is thirty-eight years old. He knows this because he always liked celebrating his birthday, even if they got less eventful over the years. He still enjoyed the candles and the cake, he still enjoyed how his family would come together to sing for him and how his coworkers would sign a group card.

Johnathon was thirty-seven when the collider exploded. He didn’t realize his birthday had passed until he looked at a calendar. And really, how pitiful was that? No candles, no cake, not even a sloppily signed card. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he craved normality.

It wasn’t long after that he met you, significantly younger and full of spunk. It made him feel a little youthful again, like he was back in that old dorm room at the shiny age of twenty. Admittedly he didn’t do as many fun things as you did at his age, he mostly studied and contemplated taking Adderall to get through his finals, but he digressed.

But observing you made him realize just how many things he missed out on during his youth. Sure, he sneaked a couple of his dad's beers as a teen and broke some college lab equipment he wasn’t supposed to be touching, rebellious things like that, but that wasn’t truly living.

Before, he thought his accomplishments would speak for him; his doctorates and files of studies, his collider. But now, as he watches and listens to the dramatic reenactments of your late teenage hood and early adult life, Johnathon begins to realize maybe science isn’t the end all be all of his life. He realizes that he never went to any parties in college, he never had a quarrel-filled romance his parents disapproved of, he never traveled outside of the country aside from work—and as his eyeless gaze flits downwards, taking in the sight that is you in incredibly short shorts, he realizes another thing.

He’s never had sex, either.

It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, because he really desperately did, it’s more like he never got the chance. Between his academics that shot straight to the workforce and his lack of genuine attraction to anyone around him, it got put on the back burner.

But now it’s all he can think about.

He thinks about it when he watches your hands gesture wildly, the way they look so agile yet sturdy. He thinks about it when your shirts are low cut or rising up your midriff. He thinks about it when you stand close to him and all he can smell is you. He thinks about it when your hips shimmy to a song you like. He thinks about it when-

Ahem.

He thinks. A lot.

Johnathon has never had a quiet mind, that much is true. He’s never figured out whether or not it was a good thing, but considering how much material his brain has given him for lonely nights, it can’t all be bad.

Well. That was before the collider blew his dick clean off too. Which was another thing on his long long list of ‘Is living still worth it? I’m not too sure.’ (Except now he finally has a pro on that list, thanks to you.)

He can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous, however, hearing you talk briefly about past flings and relationships. Although he couldn’t exactly distinguish whether or not he felt jealous of your experience, or jealous of the men in your stories. He knows he could be better, even if he had virtually no experience to go off of. Despite it all, he still thinks to himself that he could make himself into someone you wanted, someone good for you. (Though he does also wonder if that’s perhaps his newly inflated ego talking.)

Johnathon sighs and holds his head in his hands. His hand briefly falls through the hole in his face and comes out of his thigh. Regardless of what he thinks could happen and what could be, he knows deep down that you couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. Still, a man is allowed to dream, right?

…

As it turns out, dreams do come true.

Or at least a drunk, sloppy version of them.

To be fair, Johnathon didn't think he still could get drunk, so it wasn't his fault that he was a bit heavy-handed with the bottle. It didn’t help that you were so influencing either, all too eager to dump the rest of your bottle down the hole in his face just to see where it’d go. Apparently, liquids dissolved down quickly in his voided body before they could emerge out of another hole. So, he drank. He drank because it was the first time he could feel any kind of normalcy, he could feel like he was human again. Unfortunately for him, he's still just as loose-lipped when drunk as he was before the collider incident.

You swirl the foamy remnants of beer in your bottle, watching it swirl through the brown glass before swallowing it down with a tip of your head. Johnathon watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow, entranced. You breathe out, satisfied, and set the bottle down on the coffee table amongst all the others.

“Y’know,” You begin, leaning back against the couch cushions, legs curled up comfortably to your chest. “You’re not as bad looking as you think.” You’re squinting your eyes a little at him, as if you were examining his body. “Lotsa people are into your kinda thing.”

Johnathon’s face hole constricts a little as if he were narrowing his eyes. “My kinda thing? What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“You know! Like…like not human looking.” You’re still looking at him, grinning, fingers picking at the hem of your pajama pants.

He makes a sound like a scoff. “That’s not really a compliment…”

You whine in subtle frustration. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant like, you have different kinds of qualities. Good qualities.” You poke your finger out at him, jabbing his chest. Your fingertip sinks into one of his inkblot holes and it gives Johnathon a feeling that he knows he’ll be thinking about later tonight when he's all alone. You replace your finger to actually poke his chest now, the smooth, almost rubbery skin of him. He shivers a little nonetheless.

“What…” he swallows thickly. “What kind of qualities?”

You continue to idly run circles over his chest with your index finger, humming softly to yourself. “I know the regular things, like how much of a good listener and talker you are. You know lots about stuff. And you also are like, super eager to please. That’s gotta be a good quality too.”

Johnathon looks down at your hand, his black little heart thumping in his chest. It’s almost too intimate for him to bear.

“Oh! And your holes!”

“My…my holes?”

“Yeah, I bet you can do some crazy things with them.”

“Oh god–” He nearly chokes at the thought running in his head.

“Yeah,” you continue, pulling your hand back to yourself. Johnathon hates how it makes him feel lonely. “I once met a guy who had crazy holes, haha, you could fit a whole fist in ther–”

“OH wow, really?” He quickly cuts you off, his paper-white face flushing a dull blue. He flaps his hands a little, as if it could cool down both his flustering and spiking jealousy. “I don’t think you should k-kiss and tell, right? Isn’t that a thing we’re not supposed to do? Kissing and…telling?” God, he really wants to know what it’s like to kiss you.

“Oh, c’mon! I know there has to be at least something you’ve done that you just gotta talk about. What is it, huh? Weird partner? Did they have a weird fetish?” You gasp suddenly. “Oh god, a pregnancy scare maybe?…pregnancy fetish?”

“No, no, none of that!” Johnathon waves his hands out in front of him rapidly, hoping to quell your questioning. “I’ve never uh- never really–”

“What, are you vanilla? Usually, nerds are like, SUPER kinky–”

“I’ve never had sex!” Curse him and his loose lips.

The air goes still amongst the sudden silence and Johnathon begins to regret ever speaking. Actually, scrap that, he regrets ever being born. Well, it’s actually not like he really had a choice in the matter, but that's beside the point.

Then, you snort a little. “You’ve gotta be joking, right? Aren’t you like, forty?”

His face hole shrinks down nearly to the side of a pinhole in both embarrassment and frustration. “I-I’m not forty! I’m thirty-eight! A-and besides, lots of people don’t have sex until they’re older! Or at all!”

“Oh my god, this is like that one movie, what’s it called, uhh,”

You tap your chin, completely ignoring him.

“I should have never said anything, I’m such an idiot—“

“No, don’t say that!” You poke his chest again, whining when he recoils from your touch. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make fun of you, I’m sorry.”

Johnathon huffs, grabbing one of the half-full bottles and dumping it down his face hole. It scrunches slightly in what you’ve begun to assume is swallowing. You pout and scoot up closer to him. “Johnny…”

He chokes a little, his gangly body going stiff. “Y-yeah?”

You grab his face, fingers pressing against his pale, rubbery cheeks. “You wanna do it?”

For a moment, Johnathon feels like the world has gone still. Everything is muffled and slow as the realization dawns on him. “Wuh-what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” You repeat, squishing his cheeks after each word like you were making him say them too.

“Yes! I-I mean, I would really like to, you’re so pretty, b-but uh, I’m a little, hah, how do you say it, ohmygosh this is harder than I thought it’d be! Uhm!” He flusters and rambles, hands flapping in front of his chest, and you’re just waiting. You’re looking at him with lidded, bedroom eyes, and Johnathon thinks he finally understands the meaning of that word.

“I don’t have, I don’t have a penis!”

A beat goes by, and then another, and he begins to feel like he blew his only shot with you.

“Do you have a vagina? It’s not an issue for me, I wanna fuck you either way.”

Jesus Christ, you are going to kill him.

“I mean, I don’t have anything.” He breathes out, shoulders deflating. “The uh, the whole collider thing got rid of it all.”

“Oh man, that’s awful.” You pat his shoulder, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “But, y’know, the offer still stands…maybe we can get a little science-y and figure out how to get you off, eh?”

Johnathon lifts his head and finds you grinning at him. “Science-y?” He repeats, his face hole crinkling like a smile.

“Yeah, dude! Science-y! Hypothesis! Theories! Quantum holes! Your holes!”

He snorts and it leads into a laugh, a deep belly laugh that he hasn’t been able to do in a while. And really, why the hell not?

His laugh dies down when you get closer, straddling his thighs and seating yourself down in his lap—and god, he can feel those short shorts he loves riding up your thighs and wrinkling against his skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” You croon, leaning in and nudging your nose under his chin. If Johnathon still had a dick, that would have sent blood right down to it.

His inkblot holes quiver amongst his body, undulating and jumping across his skin like microscopic particles, bouncing against each other under a microscope. Your face gets closer to his, lips hovering over the entrance of his face. Gently, curiously, you purse your lips and kiss the voided space. It’s almost as if there’s a thin membrane separating the outside world from the inside of him, cool to the touch and like bubblegum stretched thin. The membrane melds against your lips like it’s kissing you back and when Johnathon shivers, it puckers and purses.

His hands tremble, hovering above your hips and thighs, as if it’d burn him to touch you properly, despite how much he craves it.

Your tongue drags over the edge of his face hole and Johnathon practically whimpers. You’re humming softly, one hand idly stroking his arm as the other feels up his chest. He used to be a tad bit insecure about his pudgy torso, but with so many spots, he had other things to outweigh the worry. But now he can’t help but hold his breath, waiting for your approval of his body, the kind he so desperately needs.

“Cute.” You say mostly to yourself, dipping your fingers into a hole in his chest. He sighs out heavily in relief and pleasure, his head thumping back against the edge of the couch.

“How’s this feel?” You poke and prod into the hole, pressing past the same kind of membrane as his face. Vaguely, you feel your fingertips come back out of another hole, but you don’t focus as much on that part.

“Good,” Jonathan answers curtly, sucking a breath through his nonexistent teeth. When he exhales, it's shuddery and almost pitiful. “It’s good, it’s like- like there but not,”

“So you can feel it? What if I do something like this?” Curiously, you curl your fingers in the empty space, and a fuzzy feeling coats your skin as if your fingers were pruning yet stayed completely dry. He yelps loudly, his body lurching and he finally grabs onto you. His fingers dig into your thighs on their own accord and you are absolutely delighted with it.

“Oh god!” He cries, his thighs shifting and squirming under your lap, and you start to feel something poking at your ass. You give a confused hum, lift your hips and look down. Nope, he still doesn't have a dick, but the empty space between his legs has seemingly swollen into a small, adorable bulge. Johnathon breathes out heavily and follows your gaze.

“Wow, that’s so cool…” You reach down between your laps and grind the heel of your palm against the bulge.

He gasps sharply. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s what I'm trying to do.” You snicker impishly. You observe the way the squishy bulge flushes with color around the surface, almost like a blush. “I bet that feels really good, huh? It’s kinda like you have a really big clit. Sorta” You squish it in your hands and he shudders, shoulders tensing and inkblot shrinking. “Hey, you know what would be fun?”

Johnathon feels a little loopy, his stomach filled with butterflies and his brain thoroughly mush. He considers this endeavor so far to be successful considering the fact he didn't think he still could feel pleasure. But here you are, proving him wrong once again.

“Wh-what would?” He finds himself asking, rutting his hips up into your hand like a depraved little thing.

You don’t answer verbally yet, just sit back down on his lap and rock your hips against his. “If you fucked yourself like this.” Your fingers curl back into one of his holes, running up and down the edge of it. Johnathon melts, blubbering out nearly unintelligible pleas.

“You can do it, right? I’ll keep fingering you if you hump me like a dirty dog.”

And oh, that does things to him. He’ll…have to address that new kink later.

“Yes,” he gasps, grabbing on tightly to your hips and canting his hips up, grinding his bulge against your sex. “Yessss!” He can’t help but cry it out, his smooth head burrowing itself in the crook of your neck from the sheer intensity of it all. The heat of you is almost unbearable on his body, inside his holes. And he really is panting like a dog, he’s humping you like he actually has a dick to work with, like you could grab him and stroke him until he was a weeping mess.

“That’s it, you don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, right? C’mon, show me what you’re made of, you little nerd.” You’re cooing to him like it’s praise, and with the way you’re stroking the inside of him, pressing your fingers past that membrane and curling until the fuzziness is almost unbearable, you might as well be.

Johnathon moans wetly against your neck, legs widening and hands holding your hips down firmly as he ruts. He grinds his aching core against you, practically delirious and melting with every saccharine whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum,” you hear him say, muffled against your skin and devious delight spreads through your entire being. You hook your fingers into the hole of his face and he cries out, a debauched “Ah! Ah!” as you lift his head up. His inkblot holes shiver violently, and you hold his face in your hands like he’s your entire world, like he’s the only thing that matters to you.

And then you lean in, holding his face so carefully—

And spit.

The man below you gurgles, your spit falling down the hole in his face as a viscous glob tasting faintly of beer. Johnathon thrusts his hips up once, twice, and he’s cumming. Nothing comes out of him, but you swear you can see the holes of him drooling, dripping liquid dark matter that hurts your eyes a little to stare at too long. Pleasure blooms in you at the sight and feeling of his incessant rutting, your hands petting his head as his first orgasm in so long washes over him.

And finally, he slumps back against the couch, trembling under you, the surface of his face flushed with color. You lift yourself off his lap, your shorts still wet with your own arousal, but you’re not done with him yet.

“It’s no good to leave your partner high and dry, you know?” You tease him, and the realization dawns on his faceless face.

“O-OH! Oh, I’m so so sorry! I-I didn’t mean- that wasn’t my intention at all! Wh-what should I do? What do you like? Oh god, I’m so sorry—“

You quiet him by lifting his gangly legs up, exposing him even further. “Don't worry about it, it’s your first time! That just means I’ll have to use you.” That evil little grin is back as you brace one foot on the floor and the other on the couch cushions, slotting your hips against his. Poor Johnathon is practically folded in half, one leg hanging over your shoulder and the other dangling uselessly to the side.

You don’t waste any time either, you get right to it, hips thrusting quick and hard against his over sensitive bulge. And oh, how he squeals. He’s always been a talkative man, but he never could have anticipated being this vocal.

“Uhgn! Hah! Mmm-mmph! I-I can’t! S’too much, too much!” He babbles on, sights locked on how your hips connect with his, ruthlessly grinding and rutting and it reminds him of some kind of wild animal.

“You can, huff, take it. Jus’ a lil more,'' your head hangs low between your shoulders, arousal twining together deep in your gut. Johnathon feels it too, and he feels it tenfold. His body feels like it’s on fire, steadily submerged in pleasure until he’s burning alive in it. He can’t take how you look above him either, so goddamn ethereal, the dim overcast of the tv lighting you from behind like a digital halo, as if you were an angel sent to soothe him after such chaos. Johnathon was never a religious man, but for you, he thinks he could be.

It only takes you a little longer, already so wound tight from before. He’s dangling on the precipice of release again, delirious with lust, clinging onto the back of your neck and tugging you in.

You find your face inside of him when you cum, and somehow the deprivation of sensory makes it all the better, colors popping up in your vision like synesthesia. You can feel his thighs tighten around you with his budding climax, but you can’t see, and you already know how you regret that. You suppose you’ll just have to overstimulate him again one day when he can’t hide himself from your view.

Johnathon goes limp and you’re finally able to pull your face from the inside of his, the dark matter sliding free from your skin like an unsticky slime. It’s weird, but oddly refreshing.

Cum stains the inside of your shorts but it’s the last thing on your mind when you take in the visual that is Johnathon. He practically glows with post coital bliss, seeped back into couch cushions without the tension you’re so used to.

You let his legs fall back down, slumping into the seat next to him. He hums softly in delight, kinda loopy, entirely pleased.

“So?” You question him, idly stroking his soft chest. It’s sweaty in its own way. “Was that good for your very first time?” You waggle your brows at him and he snorts, albeit a little weakly.

“Incredibly so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good in my life.”

You clap happily. “And you’re no longer a forty year old virgin!”

“I told you I’m NOT forty!”

#the spot #johnathon ohnn #spicy #sub atsv #the spot x reader

1K notes · View notes

fancygremlin · 6 months ago

Text

I love how Warren, Gordon AND Clive are character foils of one another. Interestingly, all three of them is assigned the colour gold. The colour implies relevance… which contrasts pretty well how they are viewed or treated by the other characters.

Warren is the “golden egg”.

He is the most important asset Overhead ever obtained and YET— despite all that, he is not treated like a person... he barely classifies as human by the people working at Overhead. In most instances, people talk for him, over him, and as if he’s not even in the room... and no one (except Gordon) seem to find that bothersome. At the start of the podcast he is set to follow a trail of breadcrumbs to return to the Red Valley Research Facility, which led him to discover that everything he thought he knew (his wife, his co-workers, his job, EVERYTHING) was fake. Overnight, his life was ruined and everyone was treating this event as if they managed to pull off a surprise birthday party for him (there was even cake! Oh, how lucky!). He later drives a scalpel through his own hand and people are worried for maybe a minute about him before they decide to use the self inflicted injury as a fantastic opportunity to test the pod’s potential benefits for medical urgencies. Warren is dehumanised and reduced to nothing at every turn, even before taking part to the project.

Warren is seen as nothing more than just a "fun" science project. Comparing him to a lab rat would be too kind, because that would imply that the people carrying out the experiments care about his wellbeing and are tracking his health (mental and physical) and ensuring his safety at each and every step of the way. Instead, he is simply viewed as nothing more than a test tube, a petri dish, a limited stock of valuable cells to routinely freeze over and thaw.

Gordon has a car that he lovingly calls the “golden bullet”.

He is always shoved in the background, belittled and treated poorly by his colleagues. He receives the most hostile comments from the people around him... quite routinely, too. When he worked at Overhead, he was considered as nothing but a corporate drone. Clive calls him "stillwater" to demonstrate how inconsequential and invisible he was to the company. Later, when he becomes the archivist at Red Valley, he is described as a man-child and treated like he has zero brain functions (he even gets called Igor, in reference to the character of the Frankenstein movie), he is made fun of constantly. No one expects anything of him... and Gordon internalised this, too. No one sees his importance, and as a result Gordon doesn't either. In reality he IS the one at the heart of the story: he was researching the seed vault way before anyone else, he is the one that records everything and subsequently provids the material that sacks Bryony, he is the one that explores the secret tunnel to aid Aubrey's plan and he is Warren's lifeline and only safe space while he continues to go in and out of hypersleep. He is the ONE person that helps Warren realise he doesn't deserve the harsh treatment he had to endure.

How fitting that Gordon, a character that struggles to find their purpose and their usefulness, is not even directly tied to the motif himself... his car is. And how interesting that the car is only lovingly referred to as golden, when in reality it is just coppery in colour.

Clive is the "golden boy".

He is at the front of the Kontinue project, and yet, no one really takes him seriously. He hires assistants for the project putting more importance on their appearance, rather than their qualifications. He dresses up in expensive clothes and suits to show how important he is to the company, only for the actual relevant people to not care what he thinks. During the meeting with Malcolm and Hester he was talked over, ordered around, treated more like a waiter than the important R&D person he is supposed to be... and I can't tell if he actually doesn't see this, or if he is refusing to face this reality. Bryony was fired because she was too smart for her own good and too dangerous, Clive was kept on the Kontinue project because he is being promised status and relevance, if he keeps doing what he is being told. He routinely threatens people, and still he never commits to the extremely graphic (and creative) threats he throws around: he is not the one that used the gun that one time, it was Bryony. After he is shot in the knee, his “get well soon” card is bland, generic and unsympathetic. No affection or warmth was being conveyed from his co-workers, despite the fact that he has been referred to as “the man of the hour” on multiple occasions before. And most importantly… he is recovering (seemingly) all on his lonesome. Just a Blue Sky to keep him company, while eating sad ready-meals and microwave lasagna. Where are his beloved wife and kid?

Clive is all appearance and no substance, all bark and no bite.

These characters seem to not be quite enough to classify as gold, they may be pyrite, or fool's gold instead:

Warren is the pyrite from which a lot of gold can be extracted. However, once all the gold is gone, he is going to be tossed aside, as his value is limited to and tied solely to its gold contents.

Gordon is the pyrite that was found by people who only see value in gold. No matter what, the people at Overhead will never appreciate the properties and qualities and uses of pyrite when they are so hellbent in digging and mining for gold.

Clive is the pyrite that is trying so hard to pass as real gold and wants to be treated as just as worthy. He is able to fool people for a bit, but pyrite might shine as brightly as gold and share some qualities and properties... but he'll never be the real deal... and some people might have started to notice.

#i'll start referring to them as the fools gold trio i think #anyways i am putting these three pyrites in the microwave to analyse their thermal decomposition as we speak #red valley #red valley podcast #red valley spoilers #warren godby #gordon porlock #cw clive schill #i am still not giving up on using clive like a content warning tag as a joke #is he going through a divorce right now? i wanna know. mostly because this would make his joke about being warrens new wife so much funnier

69 notes · View notes

yellowhoothoot · 3 months ago

Text

2025 book bingo, courtesy of @batmanisagatewaydrug! decided i will keep track of what i read that can fit on here, and maybe use this for inspiration when i go to the library if i don't have specific ideas for what to check out.

so far:

fantasy: monstrous regiment by terry pratchett i'd never actually read any discworld before and this one got recommended to me. i wrote a short story with a similar premise one time so i figured i should give it a shot. it was fun! pretty easy read, i read it basically in one afternoon sitting in my hammock down by the river.

science fiction: dawn by octavia butler this category was never going to be hard for me. a lot of what i read these days is sci-fi, ever since i racked up a huge list of mostly-sf recommendations from a professor. octavia butler is one of my best friends' favorite author and previously i'd only read parable of the sower by her. i wasn't sure if i liked this when i finished it but i wanted to read the rest of the series to figure it out.

sequel: adulthood rites by octavia butler i liked this a little better than dawn but still wasn't sure if i liked it or not. i went through it quickly, though. when i read parable of the sower it was for an environmental literature class, and this series has a lot of the same environmental lit elements.

20th century speculative fiction: imago by octavia butler the last of the lilith's brood series. this one, i definitely liked; it's my favorite of the series. having finished the whole trilogy i think i do like it overall, and i'm leaning more towards "yes i did like this" for each of the previous books, but i think i like them better with the context of the full series. i think the different perspectives in each of the three books really helps to round out the story and give a deeper understanding of what people in general are like in the world of lilith's brood, rather than only understanding what each individual narrator is like. it's a series i've really enjoyed thinking about and working through my feelings and opinions on, even a couple weeks after i finished reading them.

animal on the cover: the world as we knew it: dispatches from a changing climate, edited by amy brady and tajja isen this could fit a few boxes so i might move it later. it's a collection of essays about climate change. it's kind of depressing, a lot of them are a little bit more doom-y than i typically like in environmental writing. i think some of that is useful in environmental and climate communication to emphasize the issues people are talking about, but i find it less effective when people act like nothing can be done. i like a balance, is what i'm saying. these essays are mainly personal accounts of experiences and parts of nature that the authors have experienced changing, though. a lot of the doom isn't just vague "we're destroying things, can't do anything about it" and is focused in on those feelings of loss or uncertainty. even though they are often sad and depressing accounts, they mostly don't fall into that "nothing can be done" area that i don't like. i think it's a well curated collection which is what i like in a collection of short stories or essays.

read & make a recipe: slow roasted soy glazed salmon from salt fat acid heat by samin nosrat i got this cookbook as a graduation gift last year and i love it! i don't make a lot of recipes from it but the main part of the book that talks about how to use the different elements of cooking is really interesting and helpful. the recipes i have made from the cookbook part have been really good though. earlier this year i made the slow roasted salmon with a lemon garlic seasoning for my roommate's birthday, and it was super good and is now my go-to way to cook salmon. we had some extra salmon and i was making fried rice so i tried one of the variations, which was a soy glaze, to make the salmon to add to the fried rice. very tasty. definitely recommend.

#2025 book bingo

43 notes · View notes

elys-and-arno-week · 8 months ago

Text

Day.1 Nice Cream

(Delicious Ice cream huhuhu any yummy flavors)

Day.2 Treasure

(Hunting or finding precious treasure!)

Day.3 Weather

(Rainy weather, cold weather, any kind of weather✨)

Day.4 Sick

(Oh nuuu one of the babus are sick!)

Day.5 Comfort

(Siblings comforting each other)

Day.6 Science Experiment

(Any cool and fun science experiments!)

Day.7 Birthday

(celebrating shayromi's Birthday, create any party you like)

Welcome to Elys and Arno week 2024

An early birthday activity for @shayromi

Everyone is welcome to participate ^^

Rules

Submissions will be accepted till Dec 8th

Have fun✨

#elys and arno week 2024 #frans kids

58 notes · View notes

hannahhook7744 · 3 months ago

Note

eniemes of Hannah Hook mood boards ?

Part 1 of 3. Inspired by @thecaptainsgingersnap and @theinnerworkingsofoc . Warning Long Post below cut:

------------------------------------------------------------

Name: Pippa Tabitha Bell.

Fc: Jodie Foster.

Nicknames: P.T.B, P.T, P.B, Pips, Pip, Pipper, Pip Bell, Dust-Tinkerer, Pippie, Pipkin, Pippita, Pipka, Pippulina, Pipsy, Pippo, Pippi Long Stockings, Pipperoni, Pipster, Pipsqueak, Pippo, and Pippo the hippo (if you want to get punched).

Sexuality: Lesbian.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Birthday: October 28th, 2049.

Height: 4”6.

Weight: 115 Ibs.

Hair Color: Dark blonde with green and brown streaks.

Eye Color: Pale-Blue.

Place Of Birth: Pixie Hollow.

Hobbies: Dust Alchemy/Experimenting, tourney, tinkering, fast flying, pranking, art, listening to music, hide and seek, playing games, r.o.a.r, archery, bug and spider keeping, inventing, flowers, and alternative fashion.

Fears/Phobias: Ornithophobia, Aquaphobia, needles, and She's afraid of losing her wings.

Likes: Art, pranks, flying, playing games with her friends, music, archery, alternative fashion, r.o.a.r, tourney, dodgeball, spiders, tinkering, alchemy, dust alchemy, science, experimenting, collections, snowball fights, inventing, Pumpkin muffin, fairy tag, tag, hot-chamomile tea, strawberry cake, gardening, flowers, bugs, etc.

Dislikes: Water, Hannah Hook, hawks, the R.O.A.R rule book, the tourney rule book, dirty wings, people touching her wings, History of Woodsmen and Pirates, being told what to do, cherry cake, etc.

Favorite musicians: The Talking Dragons, The Dragon Slayers, Miguel Rivera, Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, and Lyra the Music Fairy.

Physical Quirks/Scars: Freckles and moles.

Interesting Facts:

•As a dust fairy, she can't sneeze: it's physically impossible for her to sneeze.

•She was dropped out of a window as a child. It was an accident. Peter was very sorry.

•Pippa will occasionally translate memes into fairy speak for fun.

•She shops almost exclusively at thrift shops.

Family: Tinkerbell (Mother),

Terrance (Father),

Periwinkle (Maternal Aunt),

And Tenzin (Younger Brother).

Honorary Family: The Lost Boys/Lost Kids, Peter Pan, and Other Pixie Hollow Residents.

Friends: Sheldon Darling, Warren Darling, Wilma Darling, Cheney Darling, and Tulip Rossi.

Pets: Her Spider Farm.

Love Interest: Tulip Rossí of Neverland (Former),

Kate McCardy (Former),

Wilma Darling (Former),

And Lainey Winters (Current Crush).

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Optimistic.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert.

Occupation: Unofficial Teacher’s Assistant (For her mom).

Extracurriculars: Art Club, Sewing Club, and Fight Club (she also joins Tourney and R.O.A.R the moment she's allowed after d2).

Favorite Animal: Crocodiles, Alligators, Mice, or Fireflies.

Favorite Color: Green or Acorn Brown.

Favorite Book: Frankenweenie’s Dog.

Favorite Food: Strawberry Cake.

Favorite Drink: Hot-Chamomile Tea.

Favorite Movie/TV Show: Big Bling Theory or Auradon’s Ninja Warriors.

Favorite Class: Honors Alchemy.

Background: Eight years after the isle was built, Tinkerbell and Terrance's firstborn child was born in Pixie Hollow.

That child was Pippa Tabitha Bell.

Pippa Bell was raised on stories about Peter Pan, the lost children, and the Neverland pirates: the most notable of which being Captain Hook.

Pippa has hated Captain Hook for as long as she could remember and that hatred for him has transferred over to his children.

Hannah Hook, the Hook closest to her age, especially.

She was not happy to hear a Hook was coming to Auradon and swore that she would NOT allow Neverland to relieve the terror that was Captain Hook.

Pippa has made it her top priority to get rid of Hannah Hook by any means necessary.

~~~~Playlist~~~~

“Fly to your Heart” by Selena Gomez.

“Fall Little Wendy Bird, Fall” by Lydia The Bard.

“Take the Shot” by Lydia The Bard.

“To the Fairies They Draw Near” by Loreena McKennitt.

“People I Don't Like” by Upsahl.

“Time Adventure” by Rebecca Sugar.

“Peter Pan Was Right” by Anson Seabra.

Name: Tulip Misa Rossí.

Fc: Kiawentiio Tarbell (Younger),

And Devery Jacobs (Older).

Nicknames: Lampwick's Mini-Me, Red, Carrot top, Lip, Tul, Tu, T, Little T, Donkey Ears, Donkey Girl, Ligera's Extra Twin, Drama Queen, Material Girl, Primadonna, Cherry, Spoil, Angel, Copper Top, Donkey-ette, Donkey Queen, Prom Queen to be, Homecoming Queen to be, and Neverland's Sweetheart.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Birthday: March 26th, 2049.

Height: 4”6.

Weight: 115 Ibs.

Hair Color: Reddish Brown.

Eye Color: Brown Eyes.

Place Of Birth: Tiger's Head, Neverland.

Hobbies: Sewing, shopping, pranks, girly crafts, pool, swimming, sunbathing, weaving, reading, interior designing, fashion designing, gaming, dancing, and singing.

Fears/Phobias: The color beige, swans, losing her family, the coachmen, and spiders.

Likes: Animals, sewing, pranks, her dad, dwarf gems, fairy bubblegum, cheerleading, listening to music, crafting things, horror stories, shopping, the queen’s closet, strawberry icecream, makeup, etc.

Dislikes: The Coachmen, Captain Hook, her parents’ being strict, being bored, unrequited love, being embarrassed, admitting she's wrong, sharing with people she doesn't like, Hannah Hook, etc.

Favorite musicians: Pressure Cracks, Miguel Rivera, and The Sorcerer's Apprentices.

Physical Quirks/Scars: Perfect Pearly White Teeth.

Interesting Facts:

•She can turn into a donkey.

•She makes all the native powwow outfits in her family as well as the costumes for every school play

•Tulip is a daddy's girl.

•She’s allergic to poison ivy and pollen.

•Tulip never had enemies before Hannah...she's so popular and well liked.

•Hannah and Tulip are only enemies because Tulip insists they are. It's mostly one-sided.

Family: Angelo Accardi (Paternal Great-Grandfather)(Deceased),

Bria Rossí (Paternal Great-Grandmother),

Gianna 'Gia' Allegra Rossí (Paternal Great Aunt),

Carina Rossí (Paternal Grandmother),

Marco Santoro-Ruffini (Biological Parental Great-Grandfather),

Bettina Santoro-Ruffini (Biological Parental Great-Grandmother),

Frankie Santoro-Ruffini (Biological Parental Grandfather)(Disowned but notable enough to mention),

Geppetto Collodi (Paternal Step Grandfather),

Gustavo Collodi (Paternal Step Uncle)(Deceased),

Pinocchio Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Step Uncle),

Alice Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Step Aunt-via-Marriage),

Allison 'Ally' Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Older Step Cousin),

Pino 'Pin' Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Step Cousin),

Amelia Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Younger Step Cousin),

Karina Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Adoptive Younger Cousin),

Fabian Collodi-Rossi-Liddell (Paternal Adoptive Younger Cousin),

James Collodi-Rossi Collodi-Rossi (Paternal Adoptive Uncle),

Ruth Collodi-Rossi (neé Darling)(Paternal Adoptive Aunt-via-Marriage),

Bianca Collodi-Rossi (Paternal Adoptive Younger Cousin),

Bella Rossí (Paternal Aunt),

Augusto 'August' Collodi-Rossi (Paternal Uncle),

Valentina 'Valen/Val' Collodi-Rossi (Paternal Aunt),

Harry Badun (Paternal Distant Cousin),

Jace Badun (Paternal Distant Cousin),

Romeo 'LAMPWICK' Collodi-Rossi (Father),

Tiger Lily (Mother),

Chief Tiger Bamboo (Maternal Grandfather),

Tiger Rose (Maternal Grandmother),

Hard-To-Hit (Maternal Uncle),

Anakin (Maternal Younger Cousin),

Blue Begonia (Maternal Great Grandmother),

Purple Lilac (Maternal Great Aunt),

Brave Oak (Maternal Great Uncle-via-Marriage),

Pink Daisy (Maternal first cousin once removed),

Tiger Peony Rossí (Older Sister),

Brave Pine (Maternal first cousin once removed-via-marriage),

Lola (Maternal second cousin once removed),

Blue Veronica Rossí (Younger Sister),

Sunflower Rossí (Younger Sister),

Petunia Rossí (Younger Sister),

And Rowan Rossí (Younger Brother).

Honorary Family: Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo,

Princess Eilonwy of Llyr,

Scarlet Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr,

Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr,

Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr,

Eloise Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr,

Reese Jenkins, etc.

Friends: Pino Collodi-Rossi-Liddell, Ligera Guzmán Madrigal, Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr, Pippa Bell, Sheldon Darling, Warren Darling, Cheney Darling, Neverland Cheer Team, etc.

Pets: Parsnip (Donkey).

Love Interest: Prince Haul Bjorgman of Arendelle (One-Sided Crush),

Prince Artorius 'Artie' Pendragon of Camelot (Future Partner).

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Optimistic.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert.

Occupation: The Donkey-ettes (her band), Self-Made Fashion Designer, and Auratuber (Her channel name is 'Neverlight').

Extracurriculars: Cheerleading, Drama Club, and Sewing Club.

Favorite Animal: Donkey.

Favorite Color: Pink or Green.

Favorite Book: Leo’s Dream or The Seamstress’ Trist.

Favorite Food: Lampwick's Meat Lovers' Lasagna.

Favorite Drink: Cherry Sprite.

Favorite Movie/TV Show: Get Down With The Ballgown, The Real Princesses of Charmingsville, or The Young and The Crownless.

Favorite Class: English.

Background: Eight years after the isle was built, Lampwick and Tiger Lily's second child was born.

This child was Tulip Misa Rossí of Neverland.

Tulip Rossí was raised on stories of Captain Hook and the Coachmen. Mostly told to her by her 'Uncle' Peter.

Because of this Tulip has hated Captain Hook and the Coachmen for as long as she could remember.

This is part of the reason why Tulip Rossí hates Hannah Hook with every inch of her being. But it's not the only reason.

Because, you see, once when Tulip was little and visiting her friend, Ligera Guzmán Madrigal, in the Encanto the Royal Family of Arendelle were also visiting the Encanto.

More specifically, they were visiting Ryder. Luisa Madrigal's husband.

It was during this time that Tulip met the future king of Arendelle, Haul Bjorgman, who she immediately developed a crush on when he saved her from a swan without hurting it.

Haul Bjorgman, who has a painfully obvious crush on Hannah Hook. The daughter of Captain Hook who JUST got to Auradon.

It isn't fair.

And Tulip is angry, and wants Hannah Hook gone.

~~~~Playlist~~~~

“Barbie Girl” by Aqua.

“Material Girl” by Madonna.

“Popular” by Kristin Chenoweth.

“Perfect Day” by Hoku Clements.

“Primadonna Girl” by MARINA.

“Nobody's Perfect” by Hannah Montana.

“What A Girl Is” by Dove Cameron.

Name: Poppy Penelope Belmagio of the Isle.

Fc: Unknown Extra.

Nicknames: P.R, Red Poppy, Green Poppy, The Green Fairy, Poppycat, Popsicle, Pops, Popsie, Pop, Pop Tart, Poppyseed, Popper, Popperoni, P, Boneless Poppy, Poppy Black, The Toy Maker, Poppy Redfairy, and Popcorn.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Birthday: July 4th, 2048.

Height: 4”10.

Weight: 110 lbs.

Hair Color: Black and Green.

Eye Color: Red.

Place Of Birth: The Market Pace, Isle of the Lost.

Hobbies: Reading, gardening, vandalism, graffiti, dumpster diving, grave digging, grave robbing, flying, zip lining, parkour, watching horror movies, people watching, drawing, listening to music, dancing, photography, weaving, yoga, taxidermy, ghost therapist, meteorology, astrology, sculpting, meditation, stop motion, claymation, science, and hypnosis.

Fears/Phobias: Being forgotten, being replaced, her wings being damaged, Aquaphobia, turning into a puppet, Catagelophobia, Dementophobia, being rejected, being abandoned, and disappointing her mother and father.

Likes: Psychology, botany, the feeling of being in the air, dancing, graveyards, talking with ghosts, yoga, mud fights, tormenting Frollo, tormenting the Coachmen, heavy metal music, horror movie inspired music, The Bad Apples, etc.

Dislikes: The idea of her wings getting hurt, the Coachmen, her mother's disapproval, not having all the facts, Hannah Hook, being locked out of her house, Frollo's Creperie, Frollo's crêpes, etc.

Favorite musicians: Dark Devotion, The Bad Apples, Lil Yaz, and Quinlynn Hearts.

Physical Quirks/Scars: Star-shaped Birthmark on her shoulder.

Interesting Facts:

•You know how Sid from Toy Story and Enoch from Mphfpc both have a scene where they create scary looking toys? Poppy does that.

•Poppy would love to have a cat but her mom won't let her have one.

•She can fit herself into tiny spaces.

•Poppy has a mohawk.

Family: The Scarlet Fairy/The Red Fairy/ Ilaria Belmagio (Mother),

The Mad Doctor (Father),

Mr. Belmagio (Maternal Grandfather),

Mrs. Belmagio (Maternal Grandmother),

Niccolo Belmagio (Maternal Uncle),

The Blue Fairy/Chiara Belmagio/Evangeline (Maternal Aunt),

Ray (Maternal Uncle-via-Marriage),

Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo (Maternal Cousin),

Evangeline Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Auberon Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Ella Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Willow Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Alastor Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Bloom Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

Stella Belmagio (Maternal Cousin),

and Cosmo Belmagio (Maternal Cousin).

Honorary Family: None.

Friends: Reina Enriquez, Gauntlet Gloom, Macon Thropp-Tigelaar, and Olga Hearts.

Pets: None.

Love Interest: Macon West (Future).

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Pessimistic.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert.

Occupation: Corpse Delivery Service and Potion Ingredients Scavenger.

Extracurriculars: Wicked Beauties and Fight Club.

Favorite Animal: Star-nosed Mole or Cats.

Favorite Color: Dark Green, Black, or Cherry Red.

Favorite Book: The Corpse Bride or Dignity and Detriment.

Favorite Food: Fish Cakes or Slightly Used Candy.

Favorite Drink: Coffee or Tears of Despair.

Favorite Movie/TV Show: Say Yes To The Hex or Pretty Little Liars.

Favorite Class: Weird Science.

Background: Six years after the isle was built, the Red Fairy had a tryst with the Mad Doctor and nine months later Poppy Belmagio was born.

Four years later her best friend, Olga Hearts, cut Hannah Hook's hair and got punched in the face: getting a broken nose.

From then on Poppy Belmagio has had beef with Hannah Hook and likely will continue to have beef with her till day one of them dies or the day Olga stops having beef with her.

~~~~Playlist~~~~

“The Family Jewels” by MARINA.

“Weird Science” by Oingo Boingo.

“The Background World” by Nine Inch Nails.

“Seventeen” by MARINA.

“I Hate The Homecoming Queen” by Emily Osment.

“Welcome To The Family” by Avenged Sevenfold.

“Gallowdance” by Lebanon Hanover.

Name: Prince Carter Geraint Vito Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr.

Fc: Lucas Grabeel.

Nicknames: Cart, Car, C, Scarlet’s Twin, Blondie, Chess Master Carter, Debate Boy, Chess Boy, Blue, the Nicer Twin, the Good Twin, Cartter, and the Croquet King.

Sexuality: Straight but thought he was bi for a while.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Birthday: February 15th, 2046.

Height: 5”4.

Weight: 141 Ibs.

Hair Color: Dirty Blonde.

Eye Color: Blue.

Place Of Birth: Llyr, Auradon.

Hobbies: Mixology, croquet, chess, debating, counting cards, math color sheets, 3D Printing, variant sudoku, sunbathing, shopping, skating, listening to music/going to concerts, baking, pep rallies, gymnastics, r.o.a.r, repairing/building vintage cars, backstreet racing, and Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons.

Fears/Phobias: Metamorphphobia (Fear of Metamorphosis/being transfigured into something else), losing his popularity, losing his friends, his girlfriends leaving him, and going bald.

Likes: His family, owls/birds in general, fashion, croquet, mixology, gym, math, concerts, the color blue, cosplaying, cars, shopping, sushi, coffee, Mr. Deley, taffy, and lemonade cake.

Dislikes: The Coachman, The Horned King, Villain Kids, Hannah Hook, the color orange, sweat pants, science, his sister dragging him into her busting, chemistry, hiking, bad hair days, etc.

Favorite musicians: The Sorcerer's Apprentices,

Aladdin and the Lamps, The Donkey-ettes, Crazy Harry, and Pressure Cracks.

Physical Quirks/Scars: He has a white circle around his pupil inside of his iris, a pointy chin, and a small, faint scar on his chin from when he was learning to shave.

Interesting Facts:

•He didn't inherit his mother's magic.

•He had a situationship with Chad.

•He’s a twin.

•He has a not-so minor peanut allergy that Scarlet does not share.

Family: Angharad (Maternal Grandmother),

Geraint (Maternal Grandfather),

Regat (Maternal Great Grandmother),

Princess Eilonwy of Llyr (Mother),

Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo (Father),

Princess Scarlet Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Twin Sister),

Princess Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Younger Sister),

Princess Eloise Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Younger Sister),

Poppy Belmagio (Paternal First Cousin Once Removed),

Mr. Belmagio (Paternal Great Grandfather),

Mrs. Belmagio (Paternal Great Grandmother),

Niccolo Belmagio (Paternal Great Uncle),

The Blue Fairy/Chiara Belmagio/Evangeline (Paternal Grandmother),

Ray (Paternal Step Grandfather-via-Marriage),

Sienna Conti (Adoptive Paternal Step Grandmoher-via-Marriage),

Vito Carmelo (Adoptive Paternal Step Grandfather-via-Marriage),

Auberon Belmagio (Paternal Uncle),

Evangeline Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Ella Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Willow Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Alastor Belmagio (Paternal Uncle),

Bloom Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Stella Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

and Cosmo Belmagio (Paternal Pibling).

Honorary Family: The Collodi-Rossi-Liddell Brood.

Friends: Princess Roanne, The Croquet Team, The Auradon Prep Cheerleaders, The Chess Team, Dave Byner of Prydain, Tanner Baker, Mal (eventually), and The Debate Team.

Pets: Sir Oinkers (A Piglet).

Love Interest: Prince Chad Charming of Cinderellasburg (Former Situationship),

Demurra Foxworth (Girlfriend),

Princess Mia Westergaard-La Bouff of New Orleans (Girlfriend),

And Stella Rabbit (Girlfriend).

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Pessimistic

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert.

Occupation: Auradon’s Mixologist-for-hire (secretly).

Extracurriculars: Debate Team, Croquet Club, Mathletes, and Chess Club.

Favorite Animal: Owls, pigs, or whatever the hell Gurgi is.

Favorite Color: Blue, Gold, or Black.

Favorite Book: The King, The Doppelgänger, and The Bride.

Favorite Food: Sushi or fruit salad.

Favorite Drink: Ocean Blue Calypso’s Lemonade or Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Favorite Movie/TV Show: The Prince Is Right or The Young and The Crownless.

Favorite Class: Math or English.

Background: Five years after the isle was created, a young couple—Princess Eilonwy of Llyr and Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo—had their firstborn children.

Their firstborn children being a pair of twins: named Scarlet and Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo.

Carter and Scarlet grew up close as close could be and grew up hearing stories of the Coachmen, the Horned King, Captain Hook, the Queen of Hearts, and all the damage they (and other villains) had done when they were still running around and wreaking havoc.

Including but not limited to the Horned King murdering their maternal grandparents.

Because of this, Carter and Scarlet both grew up with a strong and utter hatred for villains, their henchmen, and anyone associated with them. Which of course leads to some tension when Soon-to-be King Ben announces his first ever proclamation which is bringing the isle kids over.

From the moment the vks get there both Carter and Scarlet are antagonistic but Hannah Hook, whose entire personality and utter sneakiness and grouchiness just screams that she's up to something diabolical. Which makes her a target for them.

Carter wants her gone and has his eyes on her.

And Scarlet is ready to bust her.

~~~~Playlist~~~~

“People I don't like” by Upsahl.

“Gives You Hell” by The All-American Rejects.

“You Always Hurt the One You Love” by The Mills Brothers.

“Everything That Isn't Me” by Lukas Graham.

“Oath” by Cher Lloyd.

“Celebrity” by Brad Paisley.

“Two By Two” by Rachel Ruderman, John William Kavanaugh, and Laurie Israel.

Name: Princess Scarlet Sienna Angharad Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr.

Fc: Jessica Rothe.

Nicknames: Scarlett, The Evil Twin, The Mean Twin, Pink, Scar, Lett, Ponytail, Mean Barbie, Honey, Goldilocks, Drama Queen, Pinkie, Smart Alec, etc.

Sexuality: Lesbian.

Pronouns: She/Her.

Birthday: February 15th, 2046.

Height: 5”4.

Weight: 131 Ibs.

Hair Color: Dirty Blonde.

Eye Color: Blue.

Place Of Birth: Llyr, Auradon.

Hobbies: Cheerleading, croquet, hair styling, dress up, gymnastics, yoga, hiking, working out at the gym, gossiping, reading, shopping, snooping, scrapbooking, dancing, going to concerts, listening to music, and playing with her cat.

Fears/Phobias: Losing her friends, losing her popularity, her girlfriend leaving her, outliving Carter, Equinophobia, the color beige, and Metamorphphobia (Fear of Metamorphosis/being transfigured into something else).

Likes: Croquet, shopping, spas, cheerleading, gymnastics, strawberries, coffee, reality tv, chocolate milk, reading, the color pink, swans, cats, hair styling, Mr. Deley, hiking, and fashion.

Dislikes: The Coachman, The Horned King, Villain Kids, Hannah Hook, the color orange, the color black, taffy, bad hair days, mud (or anything really) in her hair, rain, her sea sickness, etc.

Favorite musicians: The Donkey-Ettes, The Sorcerer’s Apprentices, 4TOWN, and Pressure Cracks.

Physical Quirks/Scars: A pointy chin and thin, faint, jagged scars on her legs from when she was learning to shave.

Interesting Facts:

•She did inherit her mother's magic.

•She’s a twin.

•She has a mild pollen allergy and a mild shellfish allergy—allergies which Carter does not share.

•Scarlet and Carter aren't identical twins, despite popular belief.

Family: Angharad (Maternal Grandmother),

Geraint (Maternal Grandfather),

Regat (Maternal Great Grandmother),

Princess Eilonwy of Llyr (Mother),

Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo (Father),

Prince Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Twin Brother),

Princess Eleanor Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Younger Sister),

Princess Eloise Bluefairy-Carmelo of Llyr (Younger Sister),

Poppy Belmagio (Paternal First Cousin Once Removed),

Mr. Belmagio (Paternal Great Grandfather),

Mrs. Belmagio (Paternal Great Grandmother),

Niccolo Belmagio (Paternal Great Uncle),

The Blue Fairy/Chiara Belmagio/Evangeline (Paternal Grandmother),

Sienna Conti (Adoptive Paternal Step Grandmoher-via-Marriage),

Vito Carmelo (Adoptive Paternal Step Grandfather-via-Marriage),

Ray (Paternal Step Grandfather-via-Marriage),

Auberon Belmagio (Paternal Uncle),

Evangeline Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Ella Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Willow Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Alastor Belmagio (Paternal Uncle),

Bloom Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

Stella Belmagio (Paternal Aunt),

and Cosmo Belmagio (Paternal Pibling).

Honorary Family: The Collodi-Rossi-Liddell Brood.

Friends: Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo, Stella Rabbit, Princess Mia Westergaard-La Bouff, Demurra Foxworth, cheerleaders, croquet club, chess team, Mal (eventually), and debate team.

Pets: Sapphire (Ragdoll Cat).

Love Interest: Princess Audrey Rose of Auroria (One Sided Crush),

Princess Roanne (Girlfriend).

Optimistic or Pessimistic: Pessimistic.

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert.

Occupation: Self-Proclaimed Professional Hair Stylist and Princess of Llyr.

Extracurriculars: Cheerleading, Croquet Club, drama club, and Ethics and Morals Committee.

Favorite Animal: Swans or Cats.

Favorite Color: Pink or White.

Favorite Book: Woodhouse, Ida, or the Prince Roulette.

Favorite Food: Strawberry Shortcake, Chicken Salad, or Sushi.

Favorite Drink: Chocolate Milk, Strawberry Smoothies, or mocha lattes.

Favorite Movie/TV Show: The Real Princesses Of Charmsville and The Belle of the Ball.

Favorite Class: The History of Woodsmen and Pirates.

Background: Five years after the isle was created, a young couple—Princess Eilonwy of Llyr and Alexander Bluefairy-Carmelo—had their firstborn children.

Their firstborn children being a pair of twins: named Scarlet and Carter Bluefairy-Carmelo.

Including but not limited to the Horned King murdering their maternal grandparents.

Carter wants her gone and has his eyes on her.

And Scarlet is ready to bust her.

Scarlet just knows that this girl is up to something and she plans to do something about it. Whether anyone believes her or not.

~~~~Playlist~~~~

“Like Your Boyfriend” by Tegan and Sara.

“How To Be A Heartbreaker” by MARINA.

“Backstabber” by Kesha.

“Girlfriend” by Avril Lavigne.

“Drama Queen” by Family Force 5.

“Meet The Plastics” by Original Broadway Cast of Mean Girls.

“Take Her From You” by Dev.

------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks @bellalampwickrossi for the help.

#descendants #melissa de la cruz #disney descendants #descendants au #wicked world #disney descendants au #disney #the marvelous misadventures of hannah hook and co #the marvelous misadventures of hannah hook #ocs descendants #original characters #moodboards #character info #etc

23 notes · View notes

angelickks · 2 months ago

Text

the max interceptions: how to ruin a girl’s love life in three (overprotective, armed) steps

warning(s). John Winchester. Overprotective family™️. probs one or two sexual innuendos if u squint. light swearing. a dismal love life. canon-typical violence. mentions of alcohol (honestly what’s new?). max dating an archivist. overall shits n giggles once again i had a shitload of fun writing this. don’t mind me pushing out sm content i rlly love max synopsis. Now Max isn’t one to fully doubt her boys, in some moments, yes. But when it really mattered, it was highly unlikely. Now she knew the men in her life were wildly overprotective, albeit armed as well, but she expected the same “I stay out of your sin-filled shenanigans, you stay out of mine.” and god was she proved wrong.

#NAV.ᐟ supernatural mlist ⋆.˚ oc! max winchester

MAX'S OFFICIAL UNOFFICIAL 21ST BIRTHDAY

Midnight. Bar outside of Lawrence, Kansas. Some poor bastard who the gull to hit on Max ran out the door, all thanks to the calvary showing up right behind her in the form of three stubborn, foul mouthed Winchester men.

John chuckled gruffly

“One day, kid,” he said, “some poor bastard’s gonna think he can survive you. And when that day comes... I’ll buy him a drink. Just before I give him a fifteen-minute head start.”

Dean snorted.“Better make it ten.”

Sam just shook his head. “That’s generous.”

“Oh you guys got jokes tonight, huh? Ha ha” Max laughed dryly.

Now Max isn’t one to fully doubt her boys, in some moments, yes. But when it really mattered, it was highly unlikely. Now she knew the men in her life were wildly overprotective, albeit armed as well, but she expected the same “I stay out of your sin-filled shenanigans, you stay out of mine.” and god was she proved wrong

If anyone knows anything about Max, is that she hates being wrong…

Here are the rare times she truly was

────────

THE WALK OF SHAME

4:37 a.m., back hallway of a dingy Kansas motel. Dim lights. Creaky floorboards. The stuff of nightmares—and awkward family encounters.

Max thought she was in the clear.

Boots in one hand, jacket in the other, hair a mess, and her black tank top inside out. She padded barefoot down the hall like a cat burglar who happened to smell like whiskey and sin. The door clicked behind her—the guy was passed out cold. Thank God.

"Smooth," she whispered to herself. She just had to make it ten more feet to her room. Ten. More. Feet.

Then the door at the end of the hall creaked open.

Dean.

Coffee in hand. Shirtless. Disheveled. Confused. Squinting like a dad catching his daughter sneaking back in after curfew.

“...Really?”

Max froze like a raccoon in the trash. “Fuck off. Go back to bed.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at the boots in her hand. “You doing a charity shoeless walk or is that just part of your kink now?”

“Oh bite me.”

He just sipped his coffee. “Gotta say, you’re not very stealthy for someone who can’t be sensed by supernatural forces.”

She growled low in her throat, ready to hurl a boot at his face when—

Sam emerged. Fully dressed, hair neat, holding a book.

“Dean, why are you—” He saw Max. Blinked. “...Oh.”

“Oh?” Max echoed, voice cracking with incredulity.

Sam looked like a disappointed professor who just walked in on a bad science experiment.

“Do I even want to know?”

“No,” Max deadpanned. “You want to pretend this didn’t happen and go read about ancient sigils like a good nerd.”

Dean snorted. “She’s got a point.”

Max took one step forward—and a third door opened.

John.

Holding a half-loaded shotgun and a flask. Because of course he was.

“Someone better be dead,” he said groggily, eyes landing on his daughter mid-walk-of-shame. Pause. Narrowed stare.

“…You serious?”

“Oh my God,” Max hissed, looking skyward. “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

John looked her up and down, then past her toward the door she’d come out of. “Was he at least human?”

Max threw up her hands. “I’m not that reckless.”

Sam coughed into his hand. “You once made out with a warlock."

“That was for intel!”

Dean grinned like it was Christmas. “Was it, though?”

John muttered, “Oh jesus fuckin’ christ Max."

Max turned on her heel and stomped to her door, muttering curses under her breath. As she opened it, she glanced over her shoulder.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.”

Dean was already lifting his coffee in salute. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

John added, “Tell lover boy to get out before checkout. Or I’m charging him for breakfast.”

Sam just said, “Want me to ward the hallway? Next time you sneak out you’ll trip an alarm.”

She slammed the door shut so hard the hallway light flickered.

Ten seconds of silence.

Then Dean looked at John. “Think she likes him?”

John shrugged. “He’s still breathing, so… maybe.”

Sam just sighed.

────────

THE GAS STATION INCIDENT: DEAN EDITION

Dean’s just trying to grab snacks and gas up the Impala when he sees a compact car pull away from behind the next pump. The driver? Some pretty-boy in a Henley.

His eyes narrow.

A familiar denim jacket lies crumpled in the backseat. Max’s.

Dean nearly drops the jerky.

He casually strolls over, pretending to check his tires. Sees the guy fiddling with the aux cord, grinning like he just made out with the devil.

Dean knocks on the window.

“Morning, sunshine. You got something that doesn’t belong to you.”

The guy stammers, “Uh—I think—uh, Max said it was cool—”

Dean just smiles. Real slow.

"Listen. You can hook up with a girl like Max. Or you can live a long, uneventful life. You don't get both, dumbass."

The guy drops the jacket. Speeds off. Leaves his receipt still hanging from the pump.

Dean returns to the car with Max’s jacket, throws it at her.

“Next time, at least make ‘em buy premium.”

────────

THE COFFEE CUP CLUE (SAM EDITION)

Sam finds it during a food run. Motel trash can. Two cups.

One’s Max’s usual. Black, extra cinnamon.

The other? Hazelnut swirl with almond milk.

Suspicious.

He casually brings it up at breakfast. “So… your coffee tastes changed?”

Max doesn’t look up from her eggs. “Nope.”

“Because unless you suddenly went vegan, you had company.”

Max slowly lifts her mug. “Might’ve been a one-night drifter. With good taste. And a tongue piercing.”

Sam chokes on his toast.

“Jesus, Max—”

“What?” She shrugs. “I’m a grown woman.”

Later, he tells Dean, who nods like a grizzled war vet. “We need to start screening her dates like we do haunted houses. EMF and all.”

────────

THE LOCKER NOTE (JOHN EDITION)

Max thinks she’s slick.

She tells them she’s off for “library research.”

What she actually means is: steamy rendezvous behind a bar with a mechanic named Eli, who smells like oil and regret.

But she forgets to remove the evidence—his note, stuffed in her gear locker. Scrawled in grease pencil: “You kiss like trouble. Call me.”

John’s the one who finds it while checking ammo.

He reads it twice.

By dinner, he’s leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, saying, “So… this Eli kid. That a new contact for demon lore or just another guy who’s gonna end up hexed because he couldn’t keep it in his pants?”

Max throws a biscuit at his head.

“Is this really necessary?” she mutters.

John just smirks. “Sweetheart, I raised you. I know that ‘gonna ruin someone’s life’ look.”

────────

THE ONE THAT ALMOST GOT AWAY: A WINCHESTER ROMANCE (SURVIVAL TIME: 3.5 DAYS)

His name is Jonah. He’s an archivist. Like, literally. Wears tweed, glasses, and smells like old books and oak polish. Max meets him while breaking into a restricted collection at the University of Chicago. He's in there cataloging cursed manuscripts. She’s in there stealing one.

They both reach for the same tome: Diabolus Collectanea, 12th-century binding, potential death curse inside.

He freezes. “You’re not faculty.”

She grins. “Nope. I’m much worse.”

Jonah lasts a whole three days before the family catches wind.

Day One: Max doesn’t say anything. She comes back to the motel with a tiny smile and a book she didn’t steal. Sam notices immediately.

Day Two: She hums while cleaning her knives. Dean knows something’s up.

Day Three: John finds a tweed jacket that doesn't belong to either of the boys. Dean almost chokes on his beer.

By the evening, Max slips out for a “walk.” She ends up curled against Jonah under a library skylight, listening to vinyl records on his portable player. He kisses her like he means it.

Max actually thinks about texting the guys to say she’ll be late.

Mistake.

Jonah’s Doom Comes in the Form of a Diner.

She brings him to breakfast, thinking a public space will dull their edge. Mistake #2.

John is already there, sipping coffee like judgment incarnate. Dean is spinning his knife into the table like a loaded threat. Sam is being polite—too polite. Dangerously polite.

Jonah holds his own. Offers to pay. Compliments Max’s hexwork. Knows the difference between a curse and a binding sigil. Even impresses Sam by correctly identifying an ancient Norse glyph.

Then he calls her “Mad Maxie.”

They all freeze.

Max’s smile drops.

Jonah notices a second too late.

“You… call her that often?” Dean asks, slow drawl.

“I—I thought it was cute—she told me—”

Sam covers his face.

Dean leans forward. “Listen, Jon. We let a lot slide. But there are two things we don’t play with: souls and nicknames.”

That night, Max tells Jonah it won’t work.

Not because she doesn’t like him. But because he’s not made for a world where the men in her life come with demon knives, bullet scars, and trauma encoded stares.

He nods, kisses her hand.

“You’re not just mad, Max. You’re myth.”

She almost tells him to run. Instead, she watches him walk away.

────────

bonus scene!

THE EX-FILES: MAX AND THE CASE OF THE VERY POLITE ARCHIVIST

Bobby’s Salvage Yard. Rain-soaked Texas evening.

Max slams the Impala door harder than necessary. Mud up her boots, duffel hanging low off her shoulder. She walks through the door with a permanent scowl, coffee in hand, and the rage of a woman who just ghosted a guy who owned more scarves than knives. She’s in a hoodie three sizes too big—Jonah’s hoodie. And she knows it.

Too late.

She doesn’t get two feet inside before it starts.

Dean (sprawled across the recliner, munching on jerky): “Oh no. Is that his hoodie?”

Max (dropping her bag without looking at him): “Don’t.”

Sam (barely suppressing a grin): “Wow. Didn’t know Earth-tone Enthusiast left you with a parting gift.”

John (arms crossed, leaning by the door): “Didn’t think you were the ‘date-a-scholar’ type. He knew what end of a shotgun was the barrel, right?”

Max (pulling off the hoodie, instantly regretting everything): “Okay. First of all, he was sweet. And gentle. And he used conditioner.”

John: “You dated a man with a 9-step skincare routine. You’re a hunter, not a house plant.”

Dean (leaning forward, grinning): “You know what this is, right? This is your ‘Sam dated a werewolf’ phase.”

Sam: “Hey!”

Dean: “She dated a gluten-free ghost whisperer. We all make mistakes.”

Max (grabbing a beer, aiming it at Dean’s face): “Shut it, asshat.”

John (raising an eyebrow):

“He wore slippers. To the front porch. In the rain.”

Dean:

“Slippers, Max.”

Max (glaring):

“They were house shoes. And he made me tea. Real tea. With lemon and honey and… kindness.”

All three men simultaneously groan.

John: “Man looked like a sentient co-op.”

Max (collapsing into the couch): “He was just... nice. For once. That’s all.”

Dean (softly, mock-serious): “And that’s why it didn’t work.”

They all sit in silence for a moment.

Then Bobby walks in, holding a dreamcatcher and Jonah’s forgotten satchel.

Bobby: “Someone get rid of this shit before I burn the place down.”

Later that night: They toss Jonah’s hoodie, dream catcher, and satchel in the fire pit. Dean toasts a beer to its slow demise.

Dean: “To Max’s taste in men: may it one day recover.”

Sam: “To Jonah: may he find peace in an artisanal tea shop.”

John (grinning): “To the next poor bastard who tries to date my daughter.”

Max: “You guys suck.”

John: “Buck up, sweetheart”

Post-Credit Scene: They find a box labeled “Jonah’s Favorite Crystals.” Dean salts it. Sam sets it on fire. John shoots it, just in case.

20 notes · View notes