Tumgik
#i promise i wasn't high
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SWORD
ignore my hand again ;-;;
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Lagoona and Abbey unboxing because I couldn't help myself, my only regret is that today was not a very stylish day for me
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quinncadens · 1 year
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theflyingfeeling · 4 months
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Fourtheenth Day of Gift-Giving: Fun Adventures
Prompt: A group project in school brings some unusual friends together
Yes, it's a high school AU, somewhat inspired by / based off this fic idea I had a while ago! I've never written a high scool AU before so pls be nice, also I've taken some liberties with the prompt again, because there's no group project per se, they're simply in the same chemistry class 😌
Banner made by @kraeuterhexchen again, thanks for suffering for me a bit I love youuuu <3
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~
Aleksi muffled his third yawn in a row on his palms. Every single week at this exact time he regretted his promise to his father that he’d take at least four optional courses this school year on top of all the compulsory ones in exchange for a language course in Amsterdam next June. The tragedy was that his schedule was already so full with the compulsory courses alone that he could barely find gaps to fill with anything else at more humane times than at eight o’clock on a Monday morning, which was when his additional chemistry class was held. It didn’t help that none of his friends or acquaintances were taking the same class; Aleksi envied them for their superior life choices.
Chemistry could be alright at best, but in general it wasn’t among his favourite subjects. Rather than reaction equations, Aleksi was much more fascinated by the only other guy in the group he knew by name, who, by the happy coincidence of the two of them both being late to class on the first day, ended up being his lab partner. He didn’t know Olli because they were buddies, quite the contrary, in fact; one of Olli’s friends was still bitter about Aleksi standing him up regarding a music project (which had been but a case of bad communication, of which Aleksi was deeply ashamed, even though in the eyes of his own friends it had been ‘such a big-dick move to put that cocky emo loser back in his place lol’), so Aleksi wasn’t exactly surprised that Olli never replied to his sleepy greeting on Monday mornings. Thinking back to it, Aleksi couldn’t recall the boy saying anything at all during the chemistry classes, so that by now he would’ve started suspecting Olli was mute, if it wasn’t for the times he had seen Olli laugh and joke about with his friends at recess. From the little Aleksi had heard when he had passed by the group in the school corridors, Olli had a soft, quiet voice, often blending under the much louder ones of his friends, which was why Aleksi had set making Olli speak to him as his main ambition for the course, rather than getting a high mark.
“Morning,” he said to Olli like he did every Monday, and like every Monday, Olli barely glanced his way. What made this Monday different from all the other Mondays was that Aleksi could’ve sworn he had seen Olli nod at him this time, sort of in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of way, although it may as well have been just his tired brain making things up. Nevertheless, it gave Aleksi the spark of hope that had him sit up straight, ready to converse Olli’s ears off in case he finally happened to be in the mood, but before he could open his mouth to ask Olli about his weekend, the teacher started the lesson by shoving hand-outs on their tables.
That day, however, Aleksi was determined to succeed in his plan at long last, even if he had to get a little creative.
While Olli was concentrating on keeping his eyes open as the teacher explained the theory behind the day’s experiments, Aleksi picked up his pencil and wrote on the corner of Olli’s hand-out:
Hi! :)
The anticipation nearly had him tremble as he waited for Olli to react in any way; for the longest time, bordering Aleksi’s patience, Olli did nothing but stare at the letters Aleksi had scribbled. He still didn’t look at him, still didn’t say anything or – god forbid – smile; he just blinked at the single word that had appeared in the corner of his paper.
Then, after a million years in Aleksi’s experience, he grabbed his own pencil.
hi
Those two letters alone made Aleksi feel like a winner already.
How are you?
Still keeping his eyes firmly on the paper, Olli seemed to be pondering his answer for a while.
good
Aleksi wondered if Olli was as terse speaking up as he was in writing.
Great to hear! I’m doing good as well :) Do you have a long day on Mondays?
Exactly like a moment earlier, Olli did nothing but stare at their brief written conversation. Aleksi wanted to believe that Olli was just about to write his answer but was ruthlessly interrupted by the teacher ordering them to walk over and look closer as she’d perform an example experiment for them to later mimic.
They didn’t get a chance to continue their little chat later on in the lesson, and they never spoke during the practical experiments they were asked to do – or rather, Olli never spoke, despite Aleksi’s best efforts to at least have him answer some simple yes-or-no questions, such as ‘do you want to try first?’ or ‘can you pass the pipette?’ or ‘oh fuck, do you think we should tell the teacher?’ when their experiments sometimes failed unexpectedly. The best Aleksi had gotten out of Olli was a suppressed snort when the other day Aleksi had accidentally spilled some red colour additive on his brand-new Off-White t-shirt.
“Quit laughing, or I’ll tell everyone it’s your blood,” he had said in hopes of making Olli properly giggle, but it had seemed to have the opposite effect, for Olli hadn’t let out a single sound for the rest of class after that. Later, Aleksi had wondered if it had been because Olli was scared Aleksi actually might, and to prevent his friends from getting wind of them being lab partners – because clearly he was that opposed to the idea of being associated with Aleksi – he had firmly kept his lips sealed for the rest of the class and all the ones that followed it.
This day, someone must have put something in Olli’s breakfast porridge, however, because when the class was dismissed, Olli spoke in his low, quiet voice, not even directly at Aleksi, but more to his general direction, so that Aleksi knew the words were addressed to him.
“See ya.”
“Yeah, see ya!” Aleksi replied, perhaps a little too eagerly, rolling his eyes in frustration when Olli hurried out of the classroom.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
~*~
The next Monday, Aleksi decided to go past formalities and straight to the point to get Olli to interact with him.
Had a nice wknd? :) 
Aleksi was most definitely too optimistic for his own good, but he had a feeling Olli didn’t take half as long to answer this time, even though his reply remained brief.
yup
Literally on the edge of his seat, Aleksi waited for Olli to elaborate on his reportedly ‘nice weekend’ – in vain. He rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil again.
What did you get up to?
Olli flipped pencil in his fingers like one would do with a drumstic, clumsily, almost dropping it on his desk. Aleksi saw an attractive blush slowly spread on Olli’s cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t discourage Olli away from the budding conversation. 
At last, Aleksi’s patient waiting was rewarded.
went to see a gig
Aleksi clenched his pencil into his fist out of sheer excitement. If there was a topic Aleksi could’ve chatted about for hours on end, it was music, his first and (so far) only love. He knew Olli played in a band and was sure that if he only could somehow make Olli lower his walls for him, they might actually find a lot to whisper about to pass the time a bit more merrily on Monday mornings.
So cool! Who did you see?
Olli didn’t keep him waiting for long, which Aleksi decided to take as a sign of Olli also being keen on their current conversation topic.
If only Aleksi knew how to help Olli get out of his shell a little more.
a friend’s band
Aleksi nodded, careful not to appear too enthusiastic or intrusive to scare Olli off, now that he had gotten him to write more than one word at a time.
Any good?
The teacher was just about to have the class gathered around her table again, so instead of a thorough review of the music show, Olli only jotted down a wonky yup in response before hurrying to the front of the classroom. During the whole rest of the class, Aleksi was not given another chance to fish more out of Olli’s weekend.
Well, he sighed to himself, standing up to join his coursemates, another Monday, then. 
~*~
Later that day, sort of by coincidence (of having purposefully lingered around the music classroom on the pretext of asking the music teacher about an upcoming extra credit class), Aleksi learnt Olli’s band had a practice slot in the music classroom on Monday evenings. His plan was not to spy on Olli, but he figured he might as well use this newly-acquired information to squeeze a little more out of Olli in their next chemistry class.
Any plans after school?
Only when he noticed Olli freeze upon seeing the question on the margin of his notebook, Aleksi realised how it must sound like to him, so out of the blue.
Just curious btw :) 
Olli seemed to hesitate before answering.
band practice
Aleksi hid his smirk behind his palm.
Hook, line and sinker, he thought to himself, the pencil in his hand itching to write down all the follow-up questions he had prepared. By the end of the class, Aleksi congratulated himself, for his plan to have Olli blabber about their common interest had worked out splendidly: Aleksi had learnt, for example, that Olli had been playing the bass for seven years already and that their band was actually working on their first EP, which Aleksi was genuinely impressed by. What really had made Aleksi feel like he was on top of the world, however, was when he noticed the smallest hint of amusement on Olli’s face; he still hadn’t managed to lure Olli to look him in the eye, but he had made him smile, which was perhaps even better.
The rest of the week Aleksi spent barely paying attention to what his friends were talking or laughing about in between classes, too busy searching for his chemistry class conversation buddy with his eyes. He did so every day, even though he was convinced the principal granting him the rest of the semester off with no consequences was more likely than catching Olli looking at him.
That was, until he did.
It was only a fleeting moment in time as they passed each other in the canteen and over before Aleksi’s heart could settle back to its place from his throat where it had jumped up to. He couldn’t tell since when his lab partner looking his way had started rousing this kind of reaction in him; then again, Olli had never really glanced his way before, so how could he have known?
Maybe that was also why Aleksi hadn’t noticed the shade of Olli’s irises until now. They were dark grey, he could tell, serious but not cold by any means. He couldn’t wait to take a closer look at them the next time he was given the chance.
Perhaps it was time for Aleksi to change his tactics.
~*~
“Hi Olli,” Aleksi said as soon as Olli walked up to his desk the next Monday. As if surprised to hear his name spoken out loud, Olli looked up at him, and Aleksi was granted another glimpse of those mysterious eyes.
Olli didn’t let him rejoice for too long, though, before turning his gaze to his desk as he sat down.
“Hi.”
And that was it: their first spoken conversation (in which Olli had also participated), despite Olli avoiding his gaze for the rest of the class, as was his right. Aleksi supposed. Even Aleksi himself was too giddy about the interaction to think of anything else to say.
It was almost ridiculous, if he was honest with himself. Yet, for the first time during the whole autumn semester, Aleksi was looking forward to the early Monday morning chemistry class.
~*~
Within the next couple of weeks, their conversations evolved from exchanging casual greetings (‘Hi Olli!’ ‘Hi…Aleksi’) to deep discussions about the current events in their lives (‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Awesome’), which was equal parts exciting and frustrating to Aleksi. His heart would do the silly bouncing-up-to-his-throat thing whenever Olli blessed him with a quick glance of his dark eyes (Aleksi could swear they were a different shade every time he looked), but the moments only ever lasted for a second or two at a time. On the bright side, Olli would no longer rush out of the classroom to get out of having to perform any more small talk, but instead took his time putting his books and pencils back in his bag carefully, even if Aleksi never managed to open his mouth in time before Olli would make his inevitable escape. Aleksi suspected that it was, indeed, the newfound thrill of being graced with the occasional, fleeting look from Olli that rendered him speechless and caused him to miss his chance of getting to talk with Olli at least until they’d reach the classroom doorway. From there onwards they’d go their separate ways anyway, to their different worlds: Aleksi to one in which Olli was a moody emo kid with no sense of humour (or so Aleksi had been told by Isac who went to the same biology class with Olli), and Olli to one in which Aleksi was probably portrayed as a self-satisfied snob who once did his friend dirty.
The Monday after that, Olli never walked in through the classroom door, no matter how intensely Aleksi stared at it. When the days passed and Aleksi hadn’t caught a glimpse of the boy by Friday, he became worried, to the extent he considered walking up to Olli’s friend group to ask about him. He was almost certain that the one with the short platinum-blond hair might have actually told him, or at least he looked the least intimidating out of them all. One of them was almost two heads taller than Aleksi, so he saw it best to stay out of his way, although his smile – in those rare occasions he did smile – was anything but frightening. The one with the baggy clothes Aleksi had once heard rapping at a house party was tiny in comparison, but something about the angle of his eyebrows gave Aleksi the chills. Joel was obviously out of the question; Aleksi would probably never dare speak to him after The Incident. Joonas, on the other hand (Aleksi knew his name because he and Joel often squabbled loudly, with Joel shouting his name in bewilderment, his obvious affection for the boy poorly masked as annoyance), seemed like the kind of guy who would whisper you the right answer just in time before the teacher’s drill of a stare would bore a hole through your skull.
Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he watched as Olli’s friends were stepping in the Swedish classroom. As if on cue, Joonas was the last one about to walk through the door, and seeing his chance had come, Aleksi zoomed over and grabbed him by his sleeve.
“Hey,” he said once he had pulled Joonas aside, hidden from the disapproving looks of Joel and company.
“Huh?”
“Do you happen to know where Olli is?” Going straight to the point seemed like the best strategy to get anything out of Joonas, in case Aleksi had completely misjudged him and he was about to be punched in the face.
“He’s caught the cold. Why?” Knitting his brows and eyeing Aleksi up and down, Joonas seemed sceptical about Aleksi’s intentions, to say the least.
(It had Aleksi wondering if any of his own friends would act as protectively about him, but that was a matter of concern for another day entirely.)
“Ummmm… I have his chemistry homework for him.”
Aleksi could almost hear the cogwheels turning inside Joonas’ head until his expression brightened.
“Aaah… Right! Yeah, I suppose you would.” (Whatever Joonas meant by that.) “I’m gonna go over later today to see how he’s doing, so I can forward the message for you.”
“Oh, great! Thanks!” Aleksi said, as if he had any clue what they had actually been given as homework four days ago.
Ironically, Aleksi was saved by Joel calling for Joonas from inside the classroom.
“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Joonas winked at him, and then he was gone. 
Joonas never did catch up with him, however, and so Aleksi was saved from the embarrassment of admitting he hadn’t been following their chemistry lesson after all, more or less due to the disappointment of not seeing Olli after having spent the entire weekend planning what he’d say to him. Not knowing if Olli would be attending the upcoming Monday’s class either, the weekend went by slower than ever, which normal-Aleksi would’ve embraced; this new, strange, maybe-crushing-on-his-quiet-lab-partner-Aleksi was on pins and needles.
~*~
There it was again, that awful skip of his heart, when Aleksi saw Olli enter the classroom on Monday. So relieved he was that he had no means to tone down the excitement in his greeting.
“You’re here!”
Olli looked up at him but said nothing, his silence a pang to Aleksi’s chest. His joy upon their reunion changed into defeat in less than a second, and Aleksi felt like a right idiot for having thought Olli, too, might have been waiting to see him again.
Suddenly fascinated by the cover of his chemistry course book, Aleksi put his head down to hide his disappointment. He was already settled for staring at the abstract drawing for the next 75 minutes to avoid more heartbreak, but then a slip of paper appeared in front of him.
can’t speak doctor’s orders
On his face, Olli was wearing a kind, small smile. In that instant, Aleksi forgot what he had even been so saddened about. He flashed Olli a smile in return and started searching with his eyes for a pencil; he would’ve felt too weird talking to Olli out loud without him being able to answer. Tragically, it seemed that in anticipation of possibly seeing Olli again after so long, Aleksi had forgotten to pack his pencil case. Noticing this, Olli offered him his own, the same, tiny smile still on his lips.
Shame! You’re usually so talkative
He knew he was taking a risk poking fun at Olli’s quietness, but to his great relief, Olli’s smile widened and his shoulders twitched in a voiceless chuckle. Encouraged by this, Aleksi continued with an equally risky revelation.
I missed you in class last week
Having written down the words, Aleksi could barely look at Olli as he felt his cheeks heaten up. He let Olli take back his pencil from his fingers, as well as the paper slip from his desk.
Olli spent almost a minute writing down his reply, erasing and rewriting, until he finally passed the paper back to Aleksi, immediately directing his face to the opposite side of the classroom.
missed you too
Aleksi had never seen three words so pretty in his life.
~*~
What followed next was an entire week of unexpected encounters between the two lab partners, as if the universe was purposefully making them cross each other’s way to make up for the past seven days of not seeing each other. On Tuesday, their shoulders brushed walking past each other in a crowded corridor. On Wednesday, they were returning their trays at lunch at the exact same time and exchanged brief smiles. On Thursday, they almost ran into each other at the restroom door, which is when Aleksi learnt Olli had regained his voice, mumbling a small ‘oops’ after having bumped into Aleksi.
On Friday, at the last recess of the day, Olli’s friend Joonas grabbed Aleksi by his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom.
“Wait here,” he ordered, and utterly confused as he was, Aleksi had no choice but to obey.
A moment later Joonas returned, pushing a red-cheeked Olli into the room before promptly leaping back to the corridor, closing the door behind him.
For one long, anxious moment, neither of them said anything, Aleksi because he was still too baffled by the latest turn of events to open his mouth, and Olli because he was… Olli.
“Ummmm…” Olli finally said, his voice a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I just… ummm… there’s this… band… tomorrow…”
Aleksi had to bite his lip, both at how adorable Olli was, fumbling with his fingers as words fell out of his mouth one by one, as well as to keep himself from blurting out ‘yes’ before Olli even got around to asking him anything.
“And I was just… thinking if… ‘cuz I have an extra ticket… so… I thought maybe you–”
“Yeah!” To Aleksi’s turmoil, his tongue could sometimes be quicker than his brain. “I mean… what?” 
Behind the classroom door, someone clicked their tongue.
“Yeah, ummmm.” Olli scratched the back of his neck. “So yeah. Would you… like to come? To the show? On Saturday? With me? Maybe? I mean, of course you already have plans–”
“I don’t!” Aleksi hurried to say. “I can come. But… will your friends be coming too though?”
Olli shook his head. Aleksi decided not to dwell on what the evident horror in Olli’s eyes was a sign of. It might have been because he, too, thought it was a little too soon for Aleksi and Joel to make amends – or maybe he was just that terrified of being seen with Aleksi in public.
“No, they won’t. I mean, Joonas was supposed to, but he, ummmmmm, he’s going… ummmm…” Olli’s gaze wandered towards the door, as if for help.
“To my great-uncle’s funeral!” the door whispered at him.
“To his great-uncle’s funeral,” Olli confirmed.
“A-ha,” Aleksi nodded. “Sorry for your loss,” he said to the door.
“...Thanks,” the door replied. Holding back his laughter, Aleksi turned back to Olli who, for the first time since Joonas had urged them on the stage of their current scene, was looking at Aleksi, his round eyes expectant and hopeful for Aleksi’s final answer. Aleksi thought of taking a step closer to him, perhaps even gently touching his hand, but decided against it before his brain would command his limbs to make such reckless movements.
“Guess I’ll see you on Saturday at…?”
“At six. At Sandro’s.”
If Aleksi didn’t get a wink of sleep the following night, it wasn’t only because of excitement; the moment he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, his mind was filled with pictures of a boy with twinkling eyes and a bashful smile, keeping him awake until he fell asleep to them.
~*~
Aleksi couldn’t bring himself to care if he looked a little dumb, smiling to himself and leaning his chin on his palm at eight o’clock the next Monday. Even the teacher announcing a pop quiz could not have washed away the dopey grin that had been painted on his lips since Saturday evening.
He was smiling at the way Olli’s eyes had brightened when he had spotted Aleksi in the crowd. He was smiling at Olli’s shy offer to get him a Pepsi. He was smiling at how star-struck Olli had looked when the band had first got on stage and the way he had lost himself in the music, rocking his head and closing his eyes as if to let the bass lines and guitar riffs swallow him whole. The band had been excellent, Aleksi had to agree, but more than half the time, all Aleksi had seen or heard was Olli.
And for the last three minutes of the show, all Aleksi had felt was Olli; more specifically, he had felt Olli’s hand searching for his, fumbling and hesitating until it finally clasped Aleksi’s during the final song of the band’s setlist, a melancholy rock ballad that prompted lighters and cellphone flashlights to be lit. In Aleksi’s eyes, they were all dim in comparison to the glimmer in Olli’s eyes.
Lying in his bedroom later that evening and throughout the entire next day, Aleksi had still felt the warmth of Olli’s hand in his, even though they had let each other go as soon as the stage lights had been turned off.
“Hi.” Olli’s voice brought Aleksi from Saturday evening back to Monday morning. 
“Hi,” he simply answered. There were a million things he wanted to say to Olli, but his sleepy, happy brain was still working on finding the exact words.
The smile on Olli’s face told him he’d have time to figure it out, at his own pace.
In the meantime, Aleksi could always improvise, and so he picked up his pencil.
They both stared at the tiny heart on the corner of Olli’s notebook, and just when Aleksi was about to convince himself he had made a terrible mistake, Olli took the pencil out of his hand.
♡ ♡
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adi-dolls · 9 months
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this post from @eileenguy changed my life btw
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leecherish · 10 months
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yngai · 3 months
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i think there's a lot of valid critique to make of how ada's character is portrayed & written especially with capcom's misogyny & their dependance on the cool sexy female character but i genuinely don't see how the remakes "fixed" ada's character by giving her a separate story/proper character motivation when those things already existed & were pretty heavy handedly given to the audience in RE4 (she tells them to the player verbatim) + the remake separate ways draws very heavily from ada's characterization in RE6 which was actually capcom's second/better executed foray into giving ada her own unique narrative that only scantly intersects with leon's, because the original separate ways was hastily put together & its story was relegated to ada interjecting her own thoughts between chapters. i'd argue the only appearance that fails ada the most is damnation because it's a rethread of 4 with less substance but even that movie gives the audience enough hints towards ada's purpose & the imbalance in her relationship with leon + the homoerotic fight scene with svetlana that there is at least something to enjoy
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starplatinumnun · 1 year
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slightly ooc but i've only had clara pathologic for one day and she's my favorite character
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blacktobackmesa · 1 year
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⛔ ? :O
Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?
Oh, absolutely! Focusing on hlvrai, I've got two to talk about: the New Years fic and the Housesitter's Guide.
The first work I ever started was a goofy-ass story about Gordon logging into the game on New Years Day to find that the Science Team's New Years Eve party had gone off the rails with Darnold as the bartender, and now everyone was dealing with bonkers reality-warping hangover effects that only potions can give. I'd recount all of the effects, but while I know I got at least five pages out of the idea, I can't seem to find it anywhere in my folder. I know that Tommy's personal gravity had flipped like that one Calvin and Hobbes arc, so he was walking on the ceiling as he opened the door and invited Gordon inside. Benrey's Sweet Voice abilities were cranked into full gear to the point where any attempt to talk just launched a volley of fruity tennis balls out of his mouth. Bubby got body-swapped with Sunkist, who was just passed out on the couch and not enjoying being locked in an old guy body. It was beautiful, dumb crack, very much flavored like magic anon ask blogs from the days of yore.
I abandoned it for a couple reasons. One, it was a holiday fic that I didn't finish by January 2022. Two, the tone and plot weren't really up to my personal standards. Heck, there wasn't a plot at all, so I ran out of steam pretty quickly.
The second fic is one that I do still have the files for. I thought about writing a fic that was formatted as a housesitting manual that Gordon would give to someone if he needed to be out of town and wanted his computer to be supervised. It would have essentially given me a "series bible" for my Streamman continuity-- a reference guide to how Gordon would explain every part of the home program. However, while I like works in that sort of nonstandard format, it was just... really boring to write. It's much more fun to develop the world as I go and post bonus details on tumblr.
Also, since this was also an early work, I hadn't decided if Gordon knew Bubby and Coomer were a couple in this draft. I knew that they were together, but Gordon...
"[...Y]ou know how I am with these things, and after a certain amount of time I can’t ask without looking stupid. If you want, you can ask them yourself and tell me what they say. Please don’t tell them I don’t know. I know I can’t control whether you do or not. But they have enough things to make fun of me for, I promise."
Gordon's based on me. I have the worst relationship radar. I have watched people exchange deeply personal Valentine's Day gifts and said out loud that they have such a great friendship.
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wikagirl · 9 months
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last wip of the day
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like I said this is a wip so nothing about this is final. These are just the bare bones of the bots, no silicone skin, no rubber attached to the metal bones to simulate the strech and flex of muscles under the skin, just the bones, hydraulics, joints and wires.
I know that from an engineering standoint putting all of the wires in the thighs or arms into the bone would probably be smarter but I feel like showing some wire makes the design more interesting since I'm planning on masing a character off of these that would be a bot gone rogue with selfdestructive tendiencies.
I don't think they'll need additional plating on places like the upper arms or their thighs because those are made from the same material as the face plate anyways, the material of the main skull is a bit less sturdy and a more rubbery/shock absorbant coating over a very sturdy vinyl type material to protect the finger hardware for sensory stuff. The chest mainly houses the processors and their cooling systems which I'd imagine to function mostly via cooling fluid that gets pumped into the limbs to carry away the heat and cool off, kind of like a water cooling system. Might add some tubes to the arms and legs for that but idk yet.
With the skin over top the wired of course would not be flapping about like they are here but be secured via something called a shrink tube which is a little rubber tube that you thread the wire through and then heat up so it shrinks down and holds them tight. Normall irl this is used to cover up spots where the rubber coating of a wire is damaged so you won't have to replace the whole thing to minimise the risk of shocking your self, in the case of these bits they'd be bigger and go over top of the bone and the wire and hold everything together like these leg warmer sleeve thingies.
Over all I'm pretty happy with it, the only thing that really bugs me rn is the chest/ribcage. I want it to look sturdy and mechanical because these bots are supposed to be equipped to deal with potentionally violent patients or visitors which is also why the top of the face has like a double plating kindof? right now it looks too much like a flattened phase 1 clone trooper chest plate but if I make it bulkier it will be too big and make the whole thing look even more like revenant than it allready does and if I make it a legit ribcage I will go insane from having to draw that shit.
I'm also not happy with my solution for the shoulder blades, all of the joints are covered in a kind of fabric sleeve to protect them and I just kind of extended the sleeve of the shoulder joints over the shoulder blade too but it honestly looks like shite and I gotta come up with something else for that.
I like the one rib below the main torso because it mirrors the hip handles and I'd like to keep that aspect somehow but idk how so I'll just let it marinade until tomorrow and then see if I can come up with something better.
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scopostims · 9 months
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prev post that specific type of dark red lighting in gifs always looks soooooo bad on mobile..... so pixellated..... so Annoying........ -_-
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ sweet felicity
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- gojo satoru x reader
what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok
note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.
He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.
But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.
“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”
He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.
Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.
His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."
"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"
"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"
"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"
This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.
"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru."
"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"
He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”
"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."
If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."
Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...
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Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?
His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.
He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.
And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.
“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”
In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?
He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.
He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—
“Ooh, there he is!”
“Already?!”
“Nevermind—”
—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”
Today is December 7.
It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—
“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—
You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.
You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.
“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.
Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.
“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.
“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.
“As expected,” Megumi snorted.
“Salmon! Salmon!”
“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”
“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”
Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?
Nah, he would deal with him later.
Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.
You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.
And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:
Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.
If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.
“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”
A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.
The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.
Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.
“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”
The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.
And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.
Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.
You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.
Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.
That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.
And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.
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Epilogue
“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”
Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.
You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”
“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”
You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”
“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”
“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.
You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.
“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”
So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?
Your whole heart, of course.
And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.
3K notes · View notes
jaylver · 13 days
Text
WEBS OF HURT — S.JY
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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
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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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.
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"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. 
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'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.
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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?
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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.
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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. 
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good morning~
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nariism · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ WHERE THE HEART LIES ˚ ༘♡
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a/n: fluff, pining, childhood friends to lovers, reader was in the same orphanage as wriothesley when they were kids, mild codependency (?)
happy wishing everyone! ≧◡≦
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Amongst the hundreds of books stored in the Duke's office, none hold a place in his heart quite like the dusty old atlas you gave him when you were children.
It's old and worn, something aged with the faint scent of Tidalga wafting as the pages turn. To an outsider, the atlas almost looks like garbage, or rather, exactly what it is—the only crappy book in the entire vintage shop that you could afford with your terrible allowance.
He doesn't see it that way.
It's a precious commodity to him, something he holds in high regard (despite the way he's glued the spine together on nearly a dozen occasions with the amount of times he's flipped through it).
Wriothesley is not a sentimental man. Growing up the way he did taught him not to grow too attached to material belongings.
There are few things in the world he would consider treasures: his boxing gloves, for one, though that's a given. His growing tea collection that originally started as a treat he would spend coupons on, but somehow evolved into a hobby.
And lastly, but perhaps most importantly, the map of Teyvat you gave him in the orphanage you came from. Because it wasn't only a birthday gift, it was something infinitely more meaningful than that.
He remembers that birthday fondly: he was twelve and you were ten. You'd snuck into his room beyond curfew and lights out, sheltered yourself under his blanket, and shoved the poorly packaged gift bag into his hands.
The two of you spent the entire night going through the pages, amazed at how giant the world truly was outside the confines of your orphanage—imagined how freeing it would be to explore it with nothing but your pair of feet and each other.
"One day," you breathed with excitement bubbling in your voice, "We'll leave this place and travel all across Teyvat."
It wasn't just a promise to see the world. It was a promise to see it together.
For a boy who had nothing at all, what you offered him was like placing the universe itself in his hands. And even at twelve years old, with you and that book sitting between his legs and a blanket thrown over his body, he knew he'd found a dream.
The older he got, the more he clung to that. 
You were the one he came back to when he was lost. The one who made the orphanage a home. The one who gave him a raggedy atlas of the world and whispered purpose into him.
Something to cherish. Something to protect. Something to love in this world when he had little to spare.
Though time had changed everything in his life, he still found it hard to abandon the welded pieces of your conjoined hearts.
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Unlike Wriothesley, you had chosen to return to the surface after you finished serving your sentence.
It was lonelier beneath the crushing pressure of the sea without you. He made sure you knew that, too, always bringing it up whenever you came by to visit in the most nonchalant ways.
The Fortress of Meropide was a home both of you had discovered after years of being without one. "Come home already," he used to complain when he was still just a regular inmate and you were dropping by with a care package. "I miss you."
Nowadays, he made certain you understood the gap in his heart without you by other means. Like, say, when he would invite you personally to his office for a cup of tea and some cake, which was a rare treat you missed out on as kids.
Once, you called him out for attempting to bribe you back down into the iron fortress which he, of course, denied with his chest. Still, you never failed to make the trip down despite your outspoken disinterest in being back in the prison, and his weak offer of sweets since you now worked at one of the most prestigious bakeries in the city.
You had initially greeted him this time with your hands all over him, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck in a hug that he could barely breathe. Sweet smiles and kisses pressed to his cheeks and fingers pinching his nose—every action endearing and a remnant of your childhood spent together.
Now, you're seething in the office at his simple question: how are things on the surface?
"... That's when I turned to Lady Furina and, get this, she somehow ate every pastry I'd brought in a matter of seconds!" You huff, pacing back and forth in front of Wriothesley's desk while you rant about your latest visit with the Archon.
Furina was often in your schedule in one way or another, and almost always she wanted you to bring along sweets from the shop you worked at.
Wriothesley finds humour in your woes, following you around in your pacing with his arms folded over his chest.
"You know, you could just show up to your audiences with her without treats."
"She would call high treason and toss me back in prison!"
The Duke just snorts, earning him a well-deserved glare. Even with the pull of your lips into a thin line and the narrowing of your eyes, he thinks you look like a breathing angel under the warm orange light of the office.
There was nothing in the world you could do that would make him stop loving you. Not even glaring daggers at him like he's your mortal enemy.
"You're exaggerating," he hums, trailing behind you once again as you pace around the desk. 
"No, I'm not. She's absolutely crazy. She's insane—!"
He nearly bumps into your back when you suddenly halt in your steps, attention stolen from the conversation. The hands that were flailing around in the air to animate your anguish drop to your sides.
Wriothesley peers curiously over your shoulder at what has caused you to stop so abruptly.
Oh. Oh, Archons. He can sense the heat rising to his ears.
He feels as though he's been spotted in vulnerability, even though that isn't at all what has happened and that you would be the last person to judge him even if he was.
But he feels seen. Caught in the act of sentimentality just because you've picked out the book you gave him all those years ago when all you had was each other.
"You still have this?" You gawk, pulling the atlas from its prestigious position on his bookshelf. It's in a spot that he can always see as soon as he enters the room—in his direct line of sight, he has a part of you with him.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, I just thought..." You consider the words for a moment, tasting them in your mouth before admitting embarrassingly, "I just thought you'd have thrown it out for a newer atlas. You know this is out of date, right? Half the oasis in Sumeru is covered in sand now."
"Why would I ever throw it out?"
"It's old," you lament again.
"And?"
"And... you can't even use it?" Your statement comes out more as a question and he can't help but roll his eyes.
"I can still use it," he insists.
You raise a brow, slotting the book back into its regular spot. "Good luck. When are you ever going to have time to do that, oh great and powerful Lord of the Fortress of Meropide?"
He ignores your little jab, as he's gotten so good at throughout his life. There's a sense of familiarity that rises in his chest, a strange nostalgia that drives him to open his mouth once more.
"Actually, about that..."
You turn to look at him again, hand coming up to brush the hair from his eyes. You always used to scold him for not taming it better. Now it seems permanently stuck as a fluffy mess.
"What is it?"
Your fingers graze his skin and he falls apart on the spot, feeling as though you had just tipped him over the edge of the cliff he's been too afraid to dive off of.
His hand catches yours, holding it just beside his cheek for a moment before lowering it to his side and tugging you just a little closer.
If he didn't ask now, would he ever?
"Let's leave this place," he murmurs, reciting the dream you promised him when he was twelve years old. "Let's travel all across Teyvat."
The silence that follows is so loud that it makes his ears ring. For a moment he falters, thinking he may have misread the situation and in turn whatever feelings he thought you may have harboured for him.
But then you take a daring step forward, nearly flush against his body. There's a look of wonder in your eyes that makes his heart race.
"Just you and me?"
"Just you and me." Just us.
There's a heavy implication behind that and you both know it. More than a proposal to chase a dream of bygone days, it's starting to sound like a confession. In his own roundabout ways, of course.
He can see the hitching of your breath, the subtle widening of your eyes, and all he wants to do is laugh at how seriously adorable you look.
"And what about the Fortress?"
"People here are less problematic nowadays than you may think."
"Won't the paperwork back up?"
"I can deal with it whenever I come back."
"Why me?"
Another silence.
"You ask too many questions," he says quietly, dodging your interrogation. In reality, he already has an answer. It's instantaneous, resting comfortably in his mouth but never leaving.
Why would it ever be anyone else?
He's having trouble focusing on anything right now with your chests so close together and his thumb running along your knuckles.
"Wriothesley," you say his name and it sounds like honey, the sweetest thing in all of Teyvat. And the look you're giving him, so touched and melting into nothing but a smiling mess—he isn't sure his heart can handle this. "I can't believe you remembered that."
"You kiddin'?" He laughs, slowly closing the distance between you. "It's all I've thought about my whole life."
He watches you carefully as you swallow down the lump in your throat. Your hand squeezes his and that's when he knows he's got you. You kiss him and he can feel the curve of your lips, the ever growing smile on your face meeting his. His knees are on the verge of buckling by the time you pull away.
"Surely you'll miss this place in your absence. This is your home now, isn't it?" You tease.
"Well, you know what they say." He gives you a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle. "Home is where the heart is."
It didn't matter if you were braving a sandstorm or the rainforest or the depths of the sea. 
Wherever you were, you would be his dream. You would be his home, too—just as you always had been for as long as he could remember.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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amaranthineghost · 20 days
Text
THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )
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max verstappen x reader
after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.
authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333
HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.
he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.
it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.
it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.
the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.
it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.
it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.
he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.
even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.
he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.
so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.
and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.
he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.
but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.
and he didn't get to do that all too often.
the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.
with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.
it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?
what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?
unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.
anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.
the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.
he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.
the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.
she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.
since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.
he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.
from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.
she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.
so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.
she had a bomb to defuse after all.
the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.
his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.
max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.
his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.
the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.
when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.
at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.
his dad.
their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.
“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.
she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.
part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.
and he would always let her in.
she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.
she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.
“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.
he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”
“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”
“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.
she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.
“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”
she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.
even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.
she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.
she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.
when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.
when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”
she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.
“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.
his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”
“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.
he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.
“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”
she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.
“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.
“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”
she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”
“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”
“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”
she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.
whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.
she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.
all he needed was her and she would always be there.
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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