#but all of the answers are wrong. and im like. this is it. this is exactly how i feel

[nocturnebite]

Someone Like You ౨ৎ

(Its always been you) - bestfriend!enha (ot7) x fem!reader

synopsis: You’ve had enough of bad dates and bare-minimum effort. But when your best friend shows up for you in their own soft, thoughtful way… you start to wonder why you’ve never looked at them like that. Turns out, they’ve been waiting for you to. fic notes: friends to lovers || comfort & fluff || soft confessions || bad date recovery || dreamy slowburn mutual pining || emotional support kings wc: about 800ish per member (5.7k total)

ash's notes: heyy back again! this one was so fun for me to write, i'm a sucker for friends to lovers troupes.. especially when it's "they knew all along". get me a man like this PLEASE.. enjoy :3

౨ৎ Heeseung - You always know

The door clicks softly behind you as you slump inside your apartment, heels dangling from your hand, mascara slightly smudged from the stress of the night. Another date gone wrong. Another charming-on-text loser who spent more time talking about himself than asking a single question about you. At one point he even took a call at the table. You’d sat there swirling a straw in a watered-down drink, wishing you were literally anywhere else.

You drop your bag by the couch and sigh into the quiet. It hums back at you with the same kind of hollow loneliness you’ve gotten too used to.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen before you even think about it.

you: had another trash date lol sorry if im bothering u just rly bummed out

You don’t expect a reply right away. But before you can even toss your phone aside, it buzzes.

hee ౨ৎ: open the door

You blink. Then look up.

Another buzz.

hee ౨ৎ: i was already on my way. figured something was up

Heart hiccuping, you shuffle to the door, unlocking it slowly—and there he is. Hoodie half-zipped, hair tousled like he just left in a hurry, one hand clutching your favorite takeout and the other carrying a fuzzy blanket you've been trying to steal from him for weeks.

“I didn’t know if you’d eaten,” Heeseung says, stepping inside like he always belongs here. He doesn't wait for an answer, just sets everything down on the coffee table and opens his arms.

You melt.

Your face tucks into the curve of his neck like it’s muscle memory. He’s warm and steady and smells like laundry detergent and vanilla and home.

You mumble, “You really were already on your way?”

“Mmhm,” he hums against your hair. “Just had a feeling.”

You don’t even question it. He always knows.

You eat curled up on opposite ends of the couch, his long legs tangled with yours under the blanket. He doesn’t ask about the date. He doesn’t need to. He just listens while you vent, eyes soft, gaze focused on you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Eventually, you’re lying with your head in his lap while he scrolls through movies on the TV.

“Something comforting,” he murmurs, already queuing up your favorite. “The one with the sad girl who finds herself and the cottage with the vines—”

“That’s a romance,” you whisper, half-laughing.

Heeseung just smirks. “Exactly.”

As the movie plays, you watch him in the flickering light — the soft shadows against his jawline, the slight smile when a familiar line hits, the way he rests his hand gently over your arm like he wants to keep you tethered here with him.

And somewhere between your chest aching and your heart warming, it slips out.

“Why can’t the guys I date be more like you…”

Heeseung flinches.

The remote fumbles in his hand and clatters to the ground with a sharp clack.

Your eyes widen. He stiffens. “Oops—uh. Sorry.” He leans down too fast to grab it, smacking his head lightly on the table and cursing under his breath.

You blink at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just—clumsy.” He clears his throat, setting the remote back carefully like it might explode again. His ears are glowing pink.

You stare at him, heart thudding.

He doesn’t look at you. Just leans back against the couch and mutters, “Want me to rewind the movie?”

You pause. “No. I’m good.”

He nods, quiet.

But the atmosphere has changed. Charged. He’s still close, still comforting, but his posture’s too stiff now, too careful, like he’s thinking too hard about breathing near you.

Later, when the movie ends and you both sit in the hush of the credits, you speak again.

“I just…” you whisper, watching the glow from the screen reflect in his eyes. “I wish I could find someone who treats me like you do. You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Heeseung freezes.

Then turns to you slowly, expression unreadable. His voice is low.

“Then why don’t you date me?”

You laugh, confused. “What—”

“I’m serious.”

You blink.

His eyes are locked on yours. No teasing. No smirk. Just honest, vulnerable silence.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods once. “I’ve always known it was you. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

Your heart leaps into your throat. And then—flutters.

His fingers inch toward yours, tentative, until they’re brushing lightly, and when you don’t pull away, he laces them together.

“I didn’t think…” You breathe out. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“I do.” Heeseung smiles softly, then leans forward until your foreheads touch. “I have. Every time I showed up for you, every night I stayed over just to keep you company, every moment I wished you’d look at me like that…”

You do now.

And this time, when he leans in — slow, careful, trembling with hope — you meet him halfway.

౨ৎ Jay - The way you look at me

You’re already in tears by the time you leave the restaurant.

Not the dramatic, mascara-running kind. Just the quiet, aching kind — the ones that slip out even when you don’t want them to. This one stung a little more than usual. The guy didn’t just talk over you — he insulted your interests, made snide jokes about “emotional girls,” and scoffed when you said you wanted something real. It left you wondering if you were asking for too much.

You don’t text Jay.

You don’t have to.

The second your key turns in the door, the smell hits you — warm, comforting, something buttery and spiced — like childhood and safety all rolled into one.

You step inside and blink.

Jay stands in your kitchen in a dark t-shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, a striped apron tied lazily around his waist. He looks up like he’s been caught red-handed.

“I was gonna text and say come over,” you mumble.

“I figured you’d need something sooner,” he says simply, stirring the pan once before lowering the heat. “So I let myself in.”

Your chest tightens.

There’s a pot on the stove, steam rising lazily from it. A pan of something golden browning beside it. Plates already set. A candle burning low.

“You made—” Your voice cracks. “You made the pasta?”

“The one you said reminds you of your mom’s.” He shrugs, trying to seem casual. “You sounded tired last time we talked. Thought you’d need it tonight.”

Your throat feels too full to respond. You cross the kitchen slowly, eyes burning in that way that says thank you without the words.

He glances at you. “You okay?”

You nod.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shake your head, stepping behind him, letting your arms wrap around his middle as you press your face into his back. He stills, surprised—but only for a moment. Then one of his hands reaches down to cover yours.

“You’re not asking for too much,” he says softly, like he’s already guessed the thing you didn’t say.

You don’t speak. You just hold on tighter.

Dinner is quiet, the way it always is when you’re feeling raw and Jay is being careful with you — soft glances, gentle hands when he passes the parmesan, a million unspoken things in every motion. Afterward, he makes tea and sets up the couch for a movie night without asking.

“You pick,” he says, stretching across the cushions to pass you the remote.

You curl under the throw blanket and sigh, not even looking at the screen.

Jay turns his head toward you. “Wanna do nothing instead?”

You nod.

So you sit. Shoulder to shoulder. Familiar and close and quiet.

After a while, he gets up and starts tidying the kitchen. And that’s when you catch yourself watching.

The way he moves—careful, confident, focused. The way he takes his time with everything. The soft hum in his throat as he dries dishes. The way he set aside the last bite of garlic bread because he knew it was your favorite.

And suddenly, something slips out.

“I wish the guys I went out on dates with were more like.. you.”

The sound of ceramic shattering on tile cuts the air in half.

You jump.

Jay freezes mid-motion, staring down at the cracked plate on the floor like it betrayed him. “Shit—sorry.” He crouches quickly to clean it, not looking at you.

You rush to help. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s—” He’s already sweeping the pieces into his hand, face turned so you can’t see it. “It’s fine.”

But his hands are trembling.

You blink. “Jay?”

He doesn’t answer.

You touch his wrist lightly. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He finally looks at you, and it’s like the air has changed again — his expression unreadable, jaw tight, eyes searching yours for something you don’t quite understand.

You try to laugh it off, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, that was kind of a weird thing to say.”

Jay finishes sweeping and stands slowly, leaning against the counter like he needs a second to think.

Then you say it again, more quietly. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

He lets out a breath — sharp, disbelieving.

“Don’t say that,” he murmurs.

You blink. “Why not?”

“Because…” He looks at you like you’ve cracked something in him. “I’ve been trying so hard not to say it first.”

The silence that follows is thick.

You stare. “Say what?”

Jay steps toward you, then stops — unsure, unreadable.

“That I’m in love with you,” he says quietly. “That I’ve been in love with you. That every time you cry about some guy who couldn’t see how lucky he was, it kills me because I’m right here. And I’ve been here.”

Your lips part, but you can’t speak.

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wild and warm and terrified. “I know you weren’t ready. And I never wanted to make you feel like you had to see me that way, but tonight—” His voice softens. “Tonight you looked at me like you finally saw what I’ve been trying to show you this whole time.”

Your heart thunders.

You had looked at him that way. You’d always admired him — his calm, his kindness, the fire in him that always warmed you up when you felt too cold. You just never thought…

“I didn’t think you’d want me,” you whisper.

Jay’s breath catches. “I’ve always wanted you.”

He takes another step.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to lose you. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more than this.”

You look at him—really look at him—and all the times he showed up for you play in your mind like flashes of sunlight.

Slowly, you take his hand. It’s still a little shaky, but when you hold on, he steadies.

You whisper, “What if I want more too?”

He doesn’t speak. He just pulls you in and kisses your forehead, gently, reverently—like he’s waited a lifetime for this moment to finally arrive.

౨ৎ Jake - Never not you

It starts with your phone vibrating on your chest, just as your eyes are starting to sting from holding back tears too long.

You don’t check the screen. You don’t want to talk to anyone. You just stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, replaying the disaster of tonight’s date — the awkward silences, the backhanded compliments, the fake polite goodbye at the end. All you wanted was someone who’d make you feel seen. Instead, you feel lonelier than before.

Another buzz.

Then another.

Then a knock at your door.

You sit up, confused, wiping your eyes.

“Delivery?” you mumble, shuffling to open it.

But it’s not food.

It’s Jake.

He’s standing there, hair a little windblown, hoodie zipped up halfway and cheeks pink from the chill. In one hand, he’s holding a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers. In the other, a bag from your favorite bakery—the one that’s only open late on Fridays.

“I was already on my way,” he says softly. “Something told me you needed me.”

Your bottom lip wobbles.

You don’t cry, but you do fold into him the second he opens his arms.

He doesn’t say anything. Just hugs you so tight it’s like he’s holding together all the parts of you that want to fall apart.

Twenty minutes later, you’re in your pajamas under a mountain of blankets on the couch. The warm scent of baked pastries fills the air. Jake’s got your feet in his lap, his thumbs gently massaging the arch like he’s trying to erase all the tension of the night.

You’re both watching one of those cheesy rom-coms he secretly loves more than you do, though he always pretends otherwise.

“Tonight sucked,” you mutter.

He doesn’t ask for details. He just leans back, still holding your feet. “He didn’t see you, did he?”

You glance at him. “How do you always know?”

Jake shrugs one shoulder. “Because if he had, you’d be smiling. You always light up when someone gets you.”

Your breath catches. You don’t respond. You just look at him.

His profile is soft in the glow of the TV. There’s a slight crease in his brow, like he’s still worried. You want to reach out and smooth it with your thumb.

Instead, you say quietly, “Why can’t guys be more like you…”

Jake stills.

His eyes don’t leave the screen, but his fingers stop moving.

You sit up a little, trying to meet his eyes. “Seriously. You’re so thoughtful. You always know what I need. You never make me feel like I’m too much or not enough—”

Jake suddenly fumbles the pastry bag in his lap and spills the last croissant right onto the floor.

“Ah..shit—sorry,” he blurts, scrambling to grab it. He drops the tongs trying to pick it up.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine!” he squeaks. Then clears his throat and tries to play it off. “Yeah. Just… butter fingers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He nods a little too quickly. “Totally. I just… wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

You tilt your head. “Say what?”

He carefully places the rescued croissant on a napkin, still not looking at you. “That you wish guys were like me.”

Your voice softens. “Well… I do.”

The silence stretches, almost like the room’s holding its breath with you.

And then, because the ache in your chest is too much to sit with, you add, “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Jake turns to you, eyes wide.

He looks like you just told him the moon said his name.

Then, very quietly, he says, “Then… why not me?”

Your heart skips.

You blink. “Wait..what..? Are you serious?”

He nods, slowly this time. The corners of his mouth twitch up—hopeful, nervous, a little amazed you haven’t laughed him off yet.

“I know we’ve been best friends forever,” he says gently, “but I’ve loved you for almost as long. I didn’t want to ruin what we had by saying anything. But it’s you. It’s never not been you.”

Your lips part. “Jake…”

“I didn’t want to be another guy who hurt you,” he whispers, voice shaking a little. “I wanted to be the one who reminded you how loved you are. I just never thought you’d actually—feel the same.”

You swallow hard.

Your chest is doing that tight fluttery thing again. Because you do. Deep down, you’ve always known it. The way you’d light up when his name appeared on your phone. The way his laugh made everything easier. The way you looked for him in every crowd.

You whisper, “I think I’ve always wanted it to be you.”

Jake beams.

Not a smirk. Not a flirty grin. A full, radiant, stunned smile like you’ve just made his entire year.

He reaches for your hand, then changes his mind and gently cups your cheek instead, brushing his thumb just under your eye.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly, breathlessly.

You nod.

And when he leans in, it’s slow and sweet and full of every unspoken thing you’ve both carried for so long. And when he pulls back just barely, lips still brushing yours, he murmurs,

“You’re my favorite everything.”

౨ৎ Sunghoon - Say something

It’s late.

The kind of late where the streets outside are quiet and your bedroom ceiling is glowing dimly with the light of passing cars. You’re curled up under a blanket in your hoodie, trying not to cry but very much failing. Again.

The guy from tonight wasn’t mean, exactly. Just… indifferent. He scrolled through his phone when you talked. Showed up twenty minutes late with no explanation. Didn’t even pretend to walk you home.

And maybe it wouldn’t sting so much if it didn’t feel like a pattern.

You don’t text anyone. You just throw your phone facedown and try to forget it.

Until, barely five minutes later, there’s a knock at your window.

You freeze.

Another knock.

You scramble out of bed and yank the curtains aside — and there he is.

Sunghoon. In his gray zip-up and a beanie pulled low over his brows, standing on your fire escape holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate and a very unimpressed expression.

You open the window with wide eyes. “What the—Hoon??”

“I figured he’d flake,” he says flatly, climbing in like this is something he does every day. “You ghosted the group chat. That’s never a good sign.”

You blink as he hands you one of the cups.

“I made it with that fancy cocoa you like,” he mumbles. “With the cinnamon.”

You stare at him.

Sunghoon doesn't meet your eyes. He just kicks off his shoes and settles onto your bed like it’s his.

“I didn’t get ghosted,” you say quietly, sitting beside him.

He nods. “But you are sad.”

You sip the cocoa. “How do you always know?”

He shrugs. “You always blink a lot when you’re trying not to cry.”

Your throat tightens.

Silence passes for a bit. Your room is dim, your fairy lights casting soft little shadows across his jawline. You watch him — the way his hands cradle the mug, the furrow in his brows even now. He’s always like this. A little standoffish. A little too observant. And yet always there the second you fall apart.

And maybe it’s the warmth in your hands, or the fact that you’re so, so tired of being disappointed — but the words come out before you can stop them.

“Why can’t guys be more like you…”

He freezes.

Like actually freezes.

No blink. No breath. Just wide, stunned deer-in-headlights stillness.

Then he promptly chokes on his hot chocolate.

You lunge to pat his back. “Hoon??”

“I’m good—” cough cough “Totally fine—” cough “Jesus—”

You bite back a laugh. “You don’t look fine.”

“I’m great.” He clears his throat aggressively and looks everywhere but at you. “Just… went down the wrong pipe.”

“Mmhmm,” you say, clearly not buying it.

He shifts on the bed, suddenly tense. “You… didn’t mean that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He swallows, hard.

You lean back against the pillows, watching him over the rim of your cup. “Seriously. You’re thoughtful, reliable, good with your words—when you use them—”

“Okay—”

“You always show up when I need you,” you add, voice soft now. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend.”

Sunghoon just stares at you.

You don’t even realize how intense your gaze is until he finally looks away, the tips of his ears glowing red.

“You’re messing with me,” he mutters.

“No, I’m not.”

He sets down his cup slowly. His voice is quieter when he says, “Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.”

You sit up straighter. “But I do mean it.”

Sunghoon finally meets your eyes, and there’s something raw there now. Something just barely holding itself together.

And then, because he’s Sunghoon and horrible at vulnerability, he blurts:

“Then maybe you should date me.”

Your mouth opens. “What?”

He looks away again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

You reach for his hand before he can pull it away. “Sunghoon. Look at me.”

He hesitates—then does. And your heart cracks wide open.

“I want to say yes,” you whisper.

He blinks. “You do?”

You nod. “I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever look at me that way,” he breathes. “You’re always chasing guys who treat you like crap. Meanwhile, I’m here, dying every time you tell me about them, and all I want to do is tell you they don’t deserve you.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I was scared.” His voice rises slightly, then softens again. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. But tonight… when you said that…”

He pauses, then lets out a soft breath.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot how to breathe.”

Your eyes soften. You shift closer.

“Then don’t forget now.”

He stares at you.

And then he kisses you.

It’s tentative at first — almost like he doesn’t believe it’s happening — but it grows, slow and sure and full of everything he’s held back for so long.

When you pull apart, you press your forehead against his and whisper,

“You know you can come through the door next time, right?”

He grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”

౨ৎ Sunoo - If only you knew

You don’t say anything when the door swings open.

You just step inside, drop your purse on the floor, and crawl straight onto the couch face-down, muffling a scream into the cushions.

There's silence.

Then the sound of slippers shuffling quickly across hardwood.

Then:

“Oh no. Which flavor of man failed you this time?”

You peek out of the couch to see Sunoo standing over you in an oversized sweatshirt, hair in a clip, face cream still dotted on his cheeks like he was mid-self-care ritual when you texted the dreaded “can I come over”.

You groan. “The worst one.”

He gasps. “Worse than finance bro?”

“Worse than vape in the Uber guy.”

“Girl.”

“I know.”

Sunoo lets out the most offended noise you've ever heard and immediately shuffles toward the kitchen. “I’m making tea. And I’m putting on that sad cottage movie you like. You’re not allowed to argue.”

You don’t.

You just melt further into the couch and let yourself exhale.

Because somehow, Sunoo always knows exactly what to do when the world feels heavy.

By the time the kettle whistles, you’ve been tucked in with three blankets and a stuffed animal you pretend isn’t yours.

Sunoo returns with a tray of snacks, two mugs of tea, and a disgusted look on his face.

“So what did he do? Tell me everything. I’m ready to judge.”

You shake your head. “He… didn’t even try, Nuu.”

He sets the tray down and climbs onto the couch beside you. “Try what?”

“To know me. To see me. I spent half the night trying to think of things to talk about. It felt like I was trying to impress someone who couldn’t care less.”

Sunoo's eyes narrow. “Should I fight him?”

You let out a laugh — small, watery.

He leans his head on your shoulder. “You know you’re not hard to love, right?”

You stay quiet.

Sunoo reaches for your hand under the blanket and squeezes it. “Some people just don’t know what they’re holding until it’s gone.”

You glance at him, heart aching.

He’s right here. Warm and thoughtful and sharp as ever. He always has been.

And somehow, you whisper it before you can think better of it.

“I wish guys were more like you…”

You feel him tense.

He sits up, blinking, and nearly spills the tray trying to set his cup down.

You blink back. “Nuu?”

“Did you mean that?” he says quickly, voice just slightly higher than usual.

“I—yeah?”

He just stares at you, lips parted, like his brain has fully exited the building.

You sit up. “Why does that freak you out so much?”

Sunoo clears his throat, crosses his legs, and clasps his hands like he's giving a TED talk to himself. “No no I’m fine. Totally calm. Just casually losing my mind that the person I’m in love with just said that.”

You blink. “Wait. What.”

He freezes.

You gape. “You’re in love with me??”

“OH MY GOSH,” he says, loudly, throwing a pillow over his own face. “FORGET I SAID THAT—”

“Nuu!” You pull the pillow away and stare at him, heart pounding.

He groans. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out, okay?! It’s not like I planned to tell you after a garbage date like some B-list plot twist—”

“You’re in love with me?”

He falters, looks at you properly — flushed, anxious, but still so Sunoo.

“…Yeah,” he whispers. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

Your chest tightens.

“You… never said anything.”

He gives a tiny, shy shrug. “You were always dating someone. I didn’t want to confuse things. Or ruin us.”

“But you always—” Your voice cracks. “You always take care of me.”

He smiles sadly. “Because I want to. Because you deserve someone who actually shows up when it counts.”

You look at him — really look at him — and suddenly, all the late nights, all the surprise coffee deliveries, all the “I brought your favorite just because” texts make perfect, blinding sense.

And suddenly, this feels like the only real thing you’ve ever known.

“I think…” you whisper, “I’ve been in love with you too. I just didn’t let myself believe it.”

Sunoo blinks, stunned.

“You what?”

“I kept waiting for someone who’d treat me like you do,” you murmur, leaning in. “I just didn’t think that person could be you.”

“Why not?! I’m amazing!”

You laugh through a tear.

He grins, then cups your face with both hands. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but so fondly it makes your stomach flip.

Then, very softly, “Can I kiss you now?”

You nod, heart in your throat.

He kisses you like he’s waited a lifetime — careful, steady, warm. When he pulls away, you’re still smiling.

He brushes your hair behind your ear and whispers, “You’re never going to cry over another date again.”

“Because you’re going to fight them?”

“No.” He grins. “Because you’re done dating losers. You’re dating me now.”

౨ৎ Jungwon - What took you so long 

You don’t expect anyone to be waiting when you get home.

Your date was forgettable in the worst way — vague answers, barely-there eye contact, the kind of guy who asked questions only to talk about himself. You left early and walked home alone under a gray sky, the city lights blurred through a curtain of drizzle.

You don’t text anyone. You don’t want to talk. You just want the night to be over.

So when you push open your apartment door and find Jungwon sitting on your couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands and a small box of takeout on his lap, you stop in your tracks.

He looks up casually. “You didn’t answer my texts.”

You blink. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I figured you’d need me.”

The way he says it — need me — sinks under your skin like something dangerous.

You walk in slowly, wet hair dripping onto your shirt, and collapse onto the couch beside him without a word.

“I brought your favorite,” he adds, offering the box. “That noodle thing you get when you’re upset but pretending not to be.”

You take it silently, the warmth of the container grounding you.

He doesn’t ask what happened. He doesn’t have to.

A while later, you’re curled up together under the same blanket, the food half-eaten and a soft playlist humming through the room. You’re both quiet, the way you always are when things get too heavy to name.

You tilt your head toward him.

Jungwon’s watching the rain trail down the window, his profile lit faintly by the glow of the streetlights. One arm rests behind your head, casual but close enough that your shoulders touch. Always close. Always almost.

“You know,” you say softly, “you’d make the perfect boyfriend.”

He blinks.

Then — too quickly — he shifts.

The blanket slips from his shoulder as he moves to set his drink down, knocking over a napkin in the process. He fumbles it. Misses. Swears quietly under his breath.

You blink. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he mumbles. Then, softer, “Just… surprised you’d say that.”

You smile faintly. “Why?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes flick toward yours, unreadable. “Because you’re always chasing guys who aren’t me.”

The words land like a pin dropped in a still room.

You stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungwon lets out a long breath, then looks at you fully — not shy, not sarcastic, not teasing. Just… honest.

“It means I’ve been here this whole time,” he says quietly. “Watching you get your heart broken over and over and wishing you’d just look at me.”

Your heart lurches.

“Jungwon…”

“I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe you already knew,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But tonight, when you said that—when you said that—I couldn’t not say it anymore.”

You don’t speak. You’re not sure you can.

“I know I’m quiet about how I feel,” he murmurs. “But I show up. I always show up for you. Because I love you. And I’ve been loving you quietly for so long, I don’t know how to stop.”

Something cracks open in your chest.

You reach out, almost without thinking, fingers brushing his wrist. “I think I’ve always loved the way you love me,” you whisper. “I just didn’t realize that’s what it was.”

He exhales shakily.

And then — like gravity pulling him forward — he leans in, resting his forehead against yours. His voice is soft, barely trembling:

“I’ve been yours for a long time.”

You whisper, “Then maybe it’s time I caught up.”

౨ৎ Ni-ki - Not just a phase

The rain has stopped by the time you make it to his place.

You’re soaked anyway — not just from the weather, but from the date that ended in a fight over whether your standards were “too high.”

You didn’t cry this time.

Not until you walked home in the drizzle and realized how tired you were of pretending the bare minimum was enough.

You’re still blinking away the sting when the door swings open.

Ni-ki stands there in a hoodie and pajama pants, hair messy from sleep, one wireless headphone still in. He blinks once. Takes in your face.

Then without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

“You look cold,” he mumbles, already guiding you toward the couch. “Sit. I’ll get the fluffy blanket.”

You don’t even argue. You just drop onto the cushions and watch as he disappears down the hall.

You don’t remember when it started—this instinct he has. This quiet caretaking. One second you’re friends who bicker over cereal brands and game scores, and the next he’s handing you tissues without asking. Wrapping you in the same blanket he used to cocoon himself in during movie nights. Like you’ve always belonged here, even if no one ever said it.

Ni-ki returns with the blanket and throws it over your shoulders, his hands lingering for a second too long.

He doesn’t ask what happened.

He just sits beside you, legs sprawled out, staring ahead like he’s waiting for you to speak.

So you do.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for dating.”

He glances at you. “That bad?”

You nod. “It’s like… I want something real. But everyone I meet makes me feel stupid for asking.”

Ni-ki stays quiet for a second.

Then: “They’re the stupid ones.”

You glance over. “What?”

He shrugs. “For not seeing it. For not recognizing you’re the kind of person people should want.”

Your heart stutters.

He doesn’t look at you when he says it. His eyes are on the floor, hands fidgeting with the drawstring of his hoodie.

You laugh weakly. “Why can’t I just date someone like you?”

His whole body stiffens.

You blink. “Ni-ki?”

He moves too fast. Reaches for the glass on the table. Misses. Knocks it over. It clatters loudly — empty, but loud enough to make you jump.

“Shit—” He rushes to grab it. “I—sorry, sorry. I wasn’t expecting—”

“What did I say?” you ask slowly.

He freezes with the glass in his hand. Doesn’t look at you.

You sit up straighter. “Ni-ki.”

He exhales hard, then sets the glass down. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

You stare. “What do you mean?”

Finally — finally — he turns to you. And his eyes are bare.

Not guarded. Not teasing. Just real.

“Because I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that this—” he gestures between you “—was just a phase. That eventually you’d stop showing up at my place with tears in your eyes. That I’d stop wondering what it would be like to be the one you chose.”

You go silent.

Ni-ki lets out a small laugh, bitter and soft. “But I never got over you. I don’t think I ever will.”

Your throat tightens. “You never said anything.”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to lose you just because I caught feelings first.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

The Ni-ki who made fun of your bad taste in ramen. Who used to walk you home in high school just because. Who showed up at every breakup with your favorite snacks and a movie cued up. That Ni-ki has been in love with you this whole time?

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same,” he murmurs.

You whisper, “What if I do?”

He stops breathing.

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his — slowly, carefully, like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.

“I think I’ve been trying to find pieces of you in everyone I’ve dated,” you say quietly. “But no one comes close.”

Ni-ki swallows hard. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

The quiet between you stretches — long and full of something new. Something changing.

Then he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod again.

So he does.

And it’s everything — every unsaid word, every held breath, every day he stood at your side wondering what it would feel like to be wanted back. His hands are gentle. His lips are soft and searching. And when he pulls away, his voice is the quietest it’s ever been.

“I’ve always been yours,” he whispers.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs + notes always mean a lot 💌

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[bewitched-hours]

Can we get an Elliot x reader who's a healer but have like a melee ability(they have more brutal ways of healing) where they'd a giant injector as their healer item and they are kinda intimidating when pissed off like straight out screeching off whenever other survivors missed their ability in the most STUPIDEST way as possible(IM LOOKING AT SHEDLETSKY AND CHANCE),having a full blown crash out at the cabin(reader didn't actually meant to,but being two healer could be reasonable if a survivor DIES after getting healed)

Elliot being their partner comforts them most of the time,so one time when the round ended after they lost.. reader just straight up stare Elliot dead in the eyes and whispered "you and me in the room,NOW" and when Elliot agreed (hesitantly and confusing) and get to their shared rooms,reader starts putting aggressive kisses on Elliot's face,neck or anywhere that's appropriate which caught Elliot off guard and leaves him flustered and questioned reader,and reader answered back with "sometimes your cute face gives me cuteness agression,I can't get enough of it,this is your fault for being too cute for me..you should've seen that comin" as reader giggled at their partners reaction..(/silly)Maybe even some cuddling time after the intense kissing session w Elliot too?(/Vpos)

.

.

.

Basically that one meme with two figures except it's reader and Elliot,reader saying "come on kitten they are all watching us,let's go to our room.." with an alpha voice.../j

-🍖🧁(MEATCAKE ANON)

Awww, that's adorable! (Also funny-) At this point I'm a sucker for our pizza boy-

Reader is getting She/They Pronouns (We love strong women)

You were possibly the scariest healer they could've gotten...

I mean, a healer with a melee ability and a big fucking injector for a healing item is already scary but throw in your menacing glare whenever the other survivors were being dumb and getting themselves killed RIGHT AFTER BEING HEALED- Yeah, they were just lucky you weren't a killer because they could swear there was bloodlust in your eyes...

All but Elliot, your boyfriend.

He still found it scary, don't get him wrong, but the way you softened up with him made his heart flutter.

It was like all your frustration melted away the moment he held your hand or hugged you and he couldn't resist doing it either. Why hold back when your girlfriend has a soft spot only for you?

But this last round was... Something...

You and Elliot had been running around healing the others and helping out but you've been getting frustrated over Shedletsky and Chance for the most part.

Neither of them seemed to be lucky today as their attacks kept missing and they eventually got themselves killed right after they both got healed by Elliot and you.

You waited to be back at the cabin but Elliot could see the frustration in your eyes the whole time and it made even him nervous.

So when the round finally ended, you wanted to strangle Shed and Chance if it hadn't been for Elliot putting his hand on your shoulder to calm you down.

It spooked him even more when your gaze didn't soften at his touch as much as it usually did. "You. Me. Cabin." Was all you said before you headed out the door and although startled and a bit hesitant, your boyfriend followed you to your shared cabin.

You barely even closed the door before you began peppering his face in aggressive kisses, leaving him flushed and severely confused but reciprocating your love all the same.

Slowly but surely, you got yourselves positioned on your bed and cuddled up with you still aggressively kissing him anywhere he would let you.

"[Reader]- What's-" He wanted to question you but you stopped him with another kiss on the lips.

Pulling away to look at his face, you had softened a little more again. "Your face is too cute... It gives me cuteness aggression so take some responsibility..." You muttered with a slight giggle, making him practically melt in your arms as he nodded and began to return your kisses with an attempt at equal aggression.

It was adorable but he didn't have nearly as much frustration behind his kisses as you did with yours...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[moonlight-tmd]

Bee is definitely a visual learner

like give him a set of instructions or teach something with words, he’s like “okay I get u but no I don’t get you”

except if someone just so happens to be doing the exact same thing (demonstration or something) he just goes “OOHH Okok I got you now” and learns very quickly

like maybe Team Prime realising this throughout their time together and adapting to that fact))

Yeah nah, he doesn't get anything unless its explained to him in a way that he'd understand.

He's basically the living example of "you used the wrong formula and somehow got the right answer", he knows how to do stuff but not in a way that other people do it. He gets distracted easily so you gotta keep it interesting for him to listen, also not complicated- simple, short but detailed instructions are the best for him.

He mostly learns from watching others, he's very good at imitating because of it too. I like to think it was Ratchet out of all people who discovered Bee's way of learning. Bee was assigned to help him with something and he had to explain it trice before actually showing him how to do it- Bee took off near instantly after he showed him.

After that the docbot would occasionally chime in if someone was complaining about Bee not doing what they told him. "Just show 'im how to do it. Trust me it's easier." and somehow he'll always be right, although most of the time Bee took a wildly different approach at doing the thing others told him and somehow getting it done just as efficiently as the original method, if not slightly faster.

[saveahorserideaneddie]

9-1-1 s9 ep 1: “Fault Line”

To Preface:

This is a long ass post that I am putting under a cut for ease if scrolling by if you don’t feel like reading. This is literally just a fun little outline of how I would write the season opener if I were showrunner- obviously it’s not going to be perfect, and if it were ever a real episode there would absolutely be edits made- this is just me having fun.

For context this is set about three-ish months after the end of s8, and would take place in late September-ish in my head. It does end on a cliffhanger since it’s only the opening episode of the opening disaster, but I might be compelled to write outlines for the other two (idk tho so im not gonna promise anything)

and last but not least: some actions/words from some of these characters might come off as cold/harsh, but this is literally not even half a year after bobby died so like- none of them have passed the grieving stage yet and are still not in great mental states- in my head a lot if the initial conflicts between characters that would not usually be fighting would be resolved by the third episode, but since this is only the first of three, those conflicts will not be resolved here. again- this will end on somewhat of a cliffhanger, but it’s nothing like drastic; just a basic “oh shit that just happened” ending

anyway if you’re still here, i hope you enjoy my long ass post :))) <3

9x01: “Fault Line”

We open on Athena staying in May’s apartment with her while she hunts for a new place. Athena goes through her morning routine, and we see that she’s on depression meds. Her morning seems to go well, but May is definitely Concerned™️ about her, even if she doesn’t say anything. Athena arrives at her precinct, greeting everyone, going about her morning, changing into her uniform. She goes out on patrol, and we see her chase a few bad guys, run a few tickets, just casual stuff, nothing crazy, until all of a sudden as she’s driving- what she thinks is a small earthquake hits and she pulls off to the side of the road to make sure everyone is okay. After a few moments, she hears another rumbling sound- she thinks it might be an aftershock, but when she turns around she sees a new highrise building collapsing, filling the streets around them with rubble as she and a few other pedestrians enter a storefront to avoid the rubble.

Cue: “9-1-1” intro screen

“A Few Days Ago”

Athena is in therapy with Frank, who is asking her how she’s doing. She is obviously masking her grief, telling him that she’s moved past it and has to focus on doing her job. He tells her that there is nothing wrong with still processing her grief over losing her husband, that no one would blame her for taking time. She tells him that the last time she lost someone, she held onto that grief for 30 years before she was able to let it go and it hardened her, and that she didn’t want to do the same with Bobby. Frank then asks how the 118 is doing in the wake of Bobby’s death.

Cut to, the 118 responding to a call. Chim is acting captain, Buck and Ravi are on heavy rescue, and and Eddie is partnered with Hen as a paramedic. Immediately, something is off- everyone is working well, doing their job, but the energy has shifted. Initially it seems to be because Bobby is gone, but as the rescue goes- a small sinkhole- we see that Eddie is pointedly ignoring Buck, while Hen and Chim are being snippy with each other- poor Ravi just stressed and confused as usual. After a few cliche “will they save the day” moments, they do save the day and begin to pack up the scene; this is where we really see the awkward tension in the group.

Commercial Break

They return to the station where it’s the end of their shift. Buck asks Eddie how Chris is enjoying high school so far, and Eddie gives him a short, clipped answer before walking away. Buck is left looking like a sad dog, before he turns to see Chim making his way to the captain’s office. He calls out for him and asks if he wants Buck to record Jee’s dance recital. Chim tells him that there’s no need, and that there’s no way he’s missing Jee’s first recital. Ravi comments on the fact that Chim looks exhausted before he and Buck walk out of the station together.

Athena gets home to find May on the phone with someone- she tells them that her mom just got home and that she needs to go, but she’ll text them later. Athena asks who that was and May tells her that it was just a friend. She asks Athena how therapy went, and Athena tells her “it was therapy.” May then asks how Athena is adjusting to her new medication, and Athena tells her that she’s adjusting fine. May asks if she wants to talk about it and Athena deflects, changing the subject to May’s senior year of college.

Hen gets home to find Karen alone in the house. She asks where Denny and Mara are, and Karen tells her that they both had sleepovers planned since it was a weekend. Hen looks a little dejected, and Karen asks her what’s wrong. Hen tells her that she feels like with extracurriculars and sleepovers, she feels like they never see the kids anymore. Karen tells her that their kids are growing up, and that they have their own personalities and lives. Hen sighs and tells her that she’s not sure she’s ready to acknowledge that her kids are growing up, and Karen tells her that their kids will be in college, and they still won’t be ready for them to grow up. Karen then says that there’s one good thing about the kids not being there though, Hen asking her what that is before Karan grabs her hand and pulls her towards their bedroom.

While they wait for Jee’s recital to start, Buck is venting to Maddie about how Eddie isn’t speaking to him and he doesn’t understand why. Maddie tells him that maybe Eddie’s busy with Chris starting high school, and having to shift to being a paramedic while Chim is intirum captain. Buck counters with the fact that Eddie would have asked for help if that were the case, but that he hasn’t. He tells Maddie that he’s been trying to give Eddie and Chris space to get settled after moving back but that this feels like he’s being iced out. Maddie suggests that maybe Eddie feels a bit like Buck’s been ignoring him, spending more time with Ravi lately, but Buck disagrees saying that he still tries to talk to Eddie, so he can’t possibly feel like Buck is ignoring him. Before they can continue, Jee’s recital starts and they look around for Chim who hasn’t gotten there yet.

Cut to the fire house where Chim has passed out in the captain’s chair, being woken up by the B shift captain, telling him it’s now almost 8. Chim panics, rushing out of the firehouse to his car, speeding through LA to get to Jee’s school, only to find that the recital had finished.

Commercial Break

Maddie arrives at Dispatch the next day, Josh asking how Jee’s recital went, and Maddie tells him it went fine, but that Chim was beating himself up over missing it. Maddie tells Josh that she tried to make sure Chim knew it wasn’t the end of the world, but that there was no consoling for him. She tells him that Chim took the kids out for the day to make it up to himself. Her attention is caught by Linds informing a caller that a noise complaint is not a valid reason to dial 9-1-1, before she hangs up and looks at Maddie and Josh telling them that another person called about the new luxury high rise being built. Maddie says that the site is right next to the 118 and that Chim says that the construction can be heard all day during a shift and that it’s hard to concentrate on anything because of how loud it is.

Buck knocks on Eddie’s door, waiting for him to answer. Eddie opens the door and Buck notices he’s dressed to go out. He asks what Eddie is doing and Eddie tells him that he’s having lunch with Karen and Hen. Buck asks if Chris is doing anything and Eddie tells him that Chris is at his friends’ for the weekend. Buck tells Eddie that he had hoped they might be able to hang out that day, to which Eddie says, maybe some other time, before pushing past him and leaving Buck alone on the doorstep.

Athena drives by her and Bobby’s old house, watching from her patrol car as the family who bought the house leave for some sort of weekend activity. She sits there for a moment before silently driving away.

Eddie is at the Wilsons’ for lunch- the three of them laughing over something as Karen sets a tray of sandwiches down on the table. The conversation shifts to Chris starting high school. Eddie tells them it’s been an adjustment, that the house is a bit emptier without him there all the time since he has so many clubs he’s a part of. Hen tells Eddie he needs to get out more. Karen scoffs and jokingly calls Hen a hypocrite before telling Eddie about thier conversation from the night before about not beign ready for kids to grow up. Eddie attests to the reality of that and says he still wishes he could carry Chris around in his arms and play legos with the kid, but that that’s the beauty of growing up- they become their own person and that they need the freedom to explore themselves and learn who they are; adding on that he knows from personal experience how not getting that opportunity can mess with you. Karen points out Eddie’s words of wisdom and he shrugs, saying therapy has helped him and that all that time alone leaves him with a lot of time to think. He then pivots the conversation back to Hen’s feelings on her empty nest syndrome and tellls her that if she had accepted the captain position she wouldn’t feel this way. Hen deadpans that she’s already pissed at Chim, jokingly warning Eddie not to piss her off too.

May and Buck are getting coffee- Buck thanking her for agreeing to meet with him. May jokes that she misses their brother-sister coffe dates to which Buck roles his eyes but smiles all the same. Buck notices May texting someone with a smile on her face, asking who she’s talking to, her telling him it’s none of his business. Buck says “so there is someone” before May deflects by asking if he’s been seeing anybody lately. Buck tells her that he’s taking a break from dating- taking Maddie’s advice and learning to be alone before he tries to start another relationship. He explains that he’s always felt like he’s always grown attached to his partners too quickly, often romanticizing what they had to the point where he thought his feelings were stronger than they were, when in reality he didn’t really ever like his exes deep down except for taylor and abby. He says that by learning to be alone he’s training himself not to latch on to his partner. May tells him that she doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with being attached to your partner as long as it’s genuine and built off of true commitment and trust- not just immediately throwing yourselves at each other. saying that that love needs to grow snd build before going all in. That she learned that from her mom and Bobby. Buck asks her how she’s doing and May tells him that she’s just worried for her mom. Buck tells her that he’s there for her if she needs him, and May thanks him. May gets a notification on her phone- Buck joking that it’s her someone before she tells him no- that she has Athena on Find My Friends now, and that Athena was just at their old house.

Commercial Break

Athena gets home and May asks her how her day was. Athena tells her it was a slow shift and that she’s hoping that the next day might be a little more exciting. May stays quiet for a moment, Athena asking if she’s okay before May tells her that she knows Athena went by the house today. Athena asks her what she means and May reminds her that after she left for college, they shared their locations with each other on Find My Friends, and that she still gets notifications for the old house, and she got one that Athena was there. She asks what she was doing and Athena deflects telling her that she responded to a call on the street and that’s all- May of course sees right through this, telling her that she’s not upset that Athena was there, it’s that Athena is clearly not okay and that she wants her to be honest with her. Athena argues that she is being honest, but May tells her she knows she’s not- that she knows her mom well enough to know that’s not true. That she misses Bobby too and she’s still not over it- that she doesn’t think she ever will be- but that bottling it up and ignoring the problem will just make it worse, telling Athena that she’s already lost one parent, she can’t lose another. Athena stays silent, turning and leaving the room as she goes to her own room- tears streaming down her face.

Maddie gets home from her shift to find Chim sitting on the couch, watching Jee’s recital on their tv, looking dejected. Maddie asked how his day was and Chim responded by saying that Jee asked why he missed her recital. Maddie sympathetically tries to tell him that she’ll understand when she’s a little older that Chim’s job is important. Chim cuts her off by saying that his job is not more important than his daughter- that he’s already missing so much of Jee’s kindergarten events, and that Robbie is growning so quickly that Chim feels like he blinks and the baby’s grown two sizes. He tells Maddie that he had an absent father, and that he doesn’t want his kids to feel thst same way. Maddie tries to tell him that they won’t have an absent father, but Chim scoffs telling her that that’s what he feels like. He storms off, leaving Maddie alone on the couch- Jee’s recital still playing as she starts to cry.

We then see the same montage of Athena getting ready for work, only this time after she leaves May’s apartment we cut to

A shift arriving at the firehouse. Ravi is filling Buck in on something that happened to him on their days off, Eddie side-eyeing them as he silently makes his way into the locker room. Ravi greets Eddie, getting nothing but a small noncommittal “hey” in return. Ravi doesn’t think anything of it, going back into his story but Buck cuts him off asking Eddie what his problem is. Eddie looks at him- shock, anger, hurt on his face- asking what Buck just said.

Cut to Hen sighing as she sits down in the loft. Chim is silently sitting at the table, eating his breakfast. She comments on the weekend being rough, saying that the kids were all out of the house and she was bored out of her mind with no one there. Chimney scoffs at that, Hen asking what’s the matter.

We see interspersed Athena’s montage of calls.

Buck repeats himself asking what Eddie’s problem is.

Chim tells Hen that he missed Jee’s first dance recital because he was so bone tired from all the paperwork he had to do that he fell asleep in the officd.

Eddie squares up and says Buck is his problem. Ravi asking no one in particular “uhh what’s going on” but he gets ignored.

Hen asks why Chim is catching an attitude with her, and he snaps- telling her its her fault for not accepting the job that everyone assumed she wanted having been interim captain for before that now he’s having to donit and is missing important milestones in his kids’ lives while Hen is sitting still home apparently twiddling her thumbs.

Eddie tells Buck that ever since he moved back with Chris, it’s like Buck doesn’t even exist anymore- that he moved out without even mentioning it to Eddie, he stopped coming over, and that Chris keeps asking what he did wrong. Buck tells Eddie that he’s not ignoring them to which Eddie tells him that it sure feels like it.

Hen, getting defensive, tells Chim that he’s being unfair, but Chim snaps back that it’s unfair that he’s missing his kids’ lives because he’s doing what should be Hen’s job.

At that moment the small earthquake hits. Chim jumps to action telling everyone to standby and be prepared for calls to come rolling in any moment. Hen grabs Chim’s arm, stopping him from walking away. She asks if Chim really blames her for all of it, and Chim frowns, telling her that he doesn’t see who else’s fault it would be.

Just then, the station begins rumbling again- Chim saying “aftershock” before they start hearing screams from outside, followed by large crashes. Chim looks out on of the windows and notices the sight if rubble falling from the sky- realizing what must be happening. He shouts out over the firehouse for everyone to take cover right as a wave if debris and rubble crashes into the fire house.

After a few moments, Hen and Chim help each other to their feet- asking if each other is alright before assessing the damage. Chim mutters “holy shit” under his breath as the camera turns around to show almost the entirety of the engine bat filled with rubble- burrying the engine, ladder truck, and rig under layers if debris. Buck, Eddie and Ravi are all unharmed and trapped in the locker room while a few other A shift members are scattered around the firehouse with small cuts and bruises. Hen says “that’s not good” before the scene cuts to black.

Roll Credits

[kkoct-ik]

hey! idk if it's okay to ask, it's okay to ignore this. how did you come to terms with being trans and decide to transition with the identity confusion? i'm not sure what i have going on specifically but i'm struggling with that. like if a part has dysphoria/ids as trans but another one doesn't, how do you know if you're trans? it isn't uncommon for parts to have different genders, isn't it? i imagine it depends a lot on the individual but i'd like to hear if you have any thoughts on the matter

oh im glad you asked this!! i actually have a lot to say on this from my experiences. im so happy to answer this

overall i think people can do anything. if by 'being trans' you mean express yourself, literally just do it. you dont have to justify yourself or have a 'legitimate reason' to shift your identity or presentation or experiment. youre always growing, always changing, humans are complex and awesome. dont shy away from being colourful and multifaceted.

that said i do know medical transition with dissociative stuff is kind of a hot topic because of its 'irreversibility', and i do have things to say, so ill ramble about my experiences with being a pwdid who has chosen to medically transition.

to contextualise myself ive been 'trans' since i was 12/13(?). this is when i first started presenting myself as male and using a new name. since then ive gone through a few different male primary identities but i've stayed pretty consistently ftm. when pitching myself to healthcare providers, i can pretty easily tell them that ive been unwaveringly socially presenting as male since i was 12.

that said when it came to my 20s and the prospect of actually booking those appointments and securing masculinising hrt i kind of had an identity crisis. because although my primary identities have been male for a long time, theyve also always been very kinda miserable and felt kinda wrong and disengaged (which makes me believe a lot of my binary maleness is a way i reject myself. which made me think, if the gender dysphoria is a dissociative symptom, won't healing my trauma get rid of it..?). moreover when ive been in certain female parts ive felt comfortable and happy, so clearly girlhood in general is to an extent grounding to me. but still, the notion of being seen as and treated as a woman makes me feel bad, even when in female parts. my pronouns are definitely he/him.

so i had no idea 'what' i was. i really felt the possibility that down the line id have a totally different gender, and maybe not be 'trans' at all, so i worried about healing my trauma and then regretting medically transitioning.

what i ended up doing was just a lot of introspection into my identity. i decided to accept that i was allowed to make choices and exercise my autonomy for my present self, without being paralysed about a possible future. i knew if i just kept waiting and being afraid, i was going to remain disconnected from myself, forever wondering if transitioning could have made me feel better. i reckoned even if i did detransition in the future, i would still respect my past decision, because i was going to put a lot of thought into this decision and make it for myself and my happiness with the information i have now, as i should.

i ended up frequenting the actual_detrans sub for a bit to make sure i was open to the possibility to changing my mind in the future, and also so i could be assured i wasnt just operating under sunk cost fallacy by locking in and medically transitioning because i felt like being 'wrong' wasnt an option. i also reflected on my identity as a whole, and figured collectively, im definitely nonbinary in some sense (luckily, im at a point in recovery where i am relatively integrated, and thus can piece together my 'big picture' and come to this conclusion. this will probably be harder for others...). when considering all my parts: i enjoy regarding myself as a 'girl', a 'man', and in a masculine/butch way. so i took that when working out how to become 'myself' without worrying about using singular or binary labels.

i decided from that point that i would enjoy the effects of testosterone, but dont necessarily want any surgeries done. i dont hate any part of my body, but it does feel strange, and i want to grow into it in a masculine way. my teenage female puberty never really felt 'real', and i was very estranged from my body. looking at myself, i still felt prepubescent in some sense. so a second puberty, one that i was actually ready for and chose, was appealing to me. for me hrt isnt about fixing anything i deem wrong with me, and is more about showing myself i can be me and feeling more at home within myself.

and as a progress report. since starting hrt (9 months ago) i really have found all the changes really joyful, and ive finally started feeling like i own my identity, body, and myself. i see myself as adorable and cute now. since the voice drop and hairiness i feel like an even happier 'girl' and more comfortable as myself. ultimately im really glad i didnt stay paralysed with my 'what-ifs', and im also glad i didnt lock myself into a conventional transition timeline (ie incl. surgeries) without pausing and taking the time to assess who i am what it really is i want out of this care. i think i made a really good call.

so yeah. i hope!!! my ramblings help at all. i do understand the struggle. hopefully me breaking down my process can be assuring or illuminating. i believe in you anon and i hope you work things out

[hinamie]

I'll rip in hands and teeth and take a bite

[rooniearts]

Does Silvers and Espios kids also have their abilities? PK and/or Invisibility?

They sure do! Let's start with Psi;

Psi inherits psychic powers from Silver, but they don't work the same. His powers are exclusively telepathic as opposed to Silver's telekinesis. He can project thoughts and illusions to any target of choice, as well as read minds. He and Alloy use the mind read/transfer thought trick ALL the time to chat and goof off without anyone knowing :'D It's the only time he's ever a real chatterbox

He's very unstable, though. When not held in check, he can't focus his powers at all or control how much of it he uses. If he doesn't wear the braces, he can just hear everyone's thoughts simultaneously, and he gets super overwhelmed very very quickly. The more stressed he is, the more power he unleashes, and the more power he unleashes, the louder everything gets. When he's in top overload like that, he emanates an aura of psychic noise around himself that interferes with the senses of anyone who gets close to him.

I think that about covers it for him, so lets move on to Alloy;

Where Psi inherited Silver's powers, Alloy inherited all of Espio's chameleon abilities! She can climb on walls and ceilings, she can use her tail to grapple and cling to things, and she has a chameleon tongue that she can use to steal shit out of her brother's hands <3

The only thing that doesn't directly transfer is the invisibility. She can colour shift, but she can't control when she does it. Usually, it only happens if she's either frightened and feels the instinctual need to hide, or if she's very angry where it works as a form of threat display.

I think that's all there is?? I hope this made sense! :'D

[cryptidmickle]

hi your amnesiac au has me in SHAMBLES plsplspls im crying sobbing stabbing the floor

im so glad i discovered your blog 😭 your art is so lovely and nice and just. Yes. eats everythibg snd leaves no crumbs /silly

PLEASE i require more info about amnesiac au.

could this happen to the other Beasts? if it can happen to Shadow Milk, it might be possible with the others, should their Ancient counterparts get lucky with their attacks

does Shadow Milk gradually become less of an ass? does he seek answers as to Why he was so awful? does he care at all?

how horrified is he at the revelation that he was such a huge issue for the faeries + PV, if at all? he already doesn't know much about himself, so would not knowing he was such a problem, such an awful person, terrify him, considering he doesn't remember any of this?

idk. i personally would be so so incredibly horrified and terrified that i was so terrible and..well, monstrous, if i may. i kinda project onto Shadow Milk im ngl so that's probably why im saying any of this

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG im just so,,, AAAUAGTHYBHLRHTLBFLTTKG /POS abt this entire au. hoenstly it inspires me; both your art and your ideas and concepts

hope you have a good day!! stay safe /gen

SOBS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THIS AU!!! i read all the tags on my posts btw so if any of u went crazy in there i saw it and went crazy w u. im deranged and mentally ill if u cant tell.

i would say the cracking of the souljam and loss of power is very possible for the other beasts! the amnesia however is a Very special case of pure vanilla fucking up the spell he cast

the other beasts would be depowered and much weaker, but retain their memories...... actually, would their corruption break as well since the souljam disconnected entirely from them? hm, i think redemption would be more possible if an ancient got a lucky shot, in that case

shadow milk does in fact become less of a jerk! what with no longer being secluded in a spire losing his mind and sense of identity all by himself, his personality is forced to become. eh. LESS THORNY.

pure vanilla is socializing him like a dog and he is NOT enjoying it. but i am. put that guy in situations.

shadow milk does in fact seek answers to why he did so many terrible things! he knows his... current personality isn't the greatest, but he can't imagine doing some of the things described

he feels a certain disconnect to the him others describe terrorizing them to the him of present, while he feels bad for what happened to them he doesn't really feel apologetic because was it really him? how's he supposed to know?

should he feel sorry because it technically was him, just.. evil? would that excuse it if he doesn't feel sorry at all?

this is where shadow milk and white lily have similar dilemmas because they both have previously done terrible things to others, especially pure vanilla. they feel bad about it, they dont wanna hurt him or others like that ever again

but then this is where they separate because shadow milk doesn't feel at fault, he doesn't remember doing all those things, he doesn't even know who that was! you want me to grovel forever about it? pathetic, what's done is done anyways, why not try to do something now?

white lily absolutely despises that mindset as she's competing with pv over who can hate themselves more, and she is winning. she thinks they both deserve to repent forever for their crimes but is constantly reminded of the fact that she remembers but shadow milk doesn't! she knows what she did, why she did it, it was bad and terrible, but she understands and that's what's important and she must repent for it

shadow milk doesn't know, he doesn't know anything at all and theres even more that they can't tell him as he's apparently been evil for centuries. it's hard to argue that he needs to feel bad when the personalities are truly separated.

......i went on a ramble again.

he doesn't feel bad about what he did but he is in fact, very unnerved that he may be capable of those actions again, and with pure vanilla trying to teach him to be good and kind its...... panic inducing sometimes, that maybe he can do something terrible again, that the evil is possibly just lurking under the surface and hes fooling himself and everyone around him

[ganondoodle]

one of the requests/suggestions i got :3 (demise + cats)

still struggeling with drawing anything (depression yippie) but trying my best anyway

[3-aem]

ive had enough of dating bring me back to my yaoi-dom

[whump-queen]

Godddd the choking piece with Seven was too good you have to continue it 🥹

omg I love that you loved it YAY!! these guys are in my HEAD today... heres a part 2 <33

Confession Time

Tags: physical abuse, choking/asphyxiation, victim blaming, past sexual assault mention, alcohol mention, denial is a river in egypt, Wes is an insecure baby bitch boy. | Words: 1.4k

continued from this | Seven Series Masterlist

༻✦༺ 

Wes was seething. Looming over Seven and gripping the belt, mercifully just loose enough for Seven to breathe. 

"So what, you just tripped and fell into a fucking closet with her? And what, your clothes just magically came off? You actually think I’m an idiot?” 

“Please, they—” Seven coughed a few times, still recovering, “— They got me so drunk, sir I— I barely even remember—”

“But you remember enough to come up with all these excuses, yeah?” Wes scoffed.

“Please.” Seven’s head cowered away but one tug of the belt was enough to make him right his position. “You— you asked what, what happened. So I’m just— I’m just telling you what I remember.” 

“Fine.” Wes twisted his face and scrunched his nose to make it clear he was irritated with even listening to the answer to his own question. 

“I was… they got me drunk. Really drunk—I swear—I blacked out at some point—but I remember… Brie. She— she grabbed me. Just grabbed me by the shirt and, and pulled me upstairs.. and…” Seven's voice was growing smaller the longer he talked, eventually fading out entirely to echo only inside his own head. 

He slumped on his knees, head falling to his chest, tufts of light hair hanging down his face like a halo of bleached nettles. 

He felt tears prick his eyes.

“It w-wasn’t my choice,” his voice cracked as he held back a sob. That was all he wanted to say about that. He was just praying Wes would understand. He was praying Wes wouldn’t press him for further details. 

He had seen pictures. Oh god, he hadn’t even realized. He faintly recalled the other people, who’d come upstairs, he remembered lights. But his drunk mind hadn’t pieced it together, and his sober mind and dutifully forgotten it—until now. 

His memories were spotty at best—fragments, half-formed images—but what he did remember was fucking damning. Nothing that would ease Wes’ mind. Nothing that would make this look better. If anything, the more he tried to recall, the worse it got.

What had Wes seen? It ate at him as he watched his face, waiting for the reaction, the— what did he want? Pity? No— Forgiveness? Compassion? But he wouldn’t get that from Wes. Not tonight. Probably not ever.

Wes stared at Seven, wide-eyed, incredulous. Then his expression contorted—brows pulling tight, lip curling in disgust.

“No. No fucking way. That’s what you’re going with?”

Wes snarled and kicked him hard in the ribs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?” Wes’ nostrils flared, his breath coming out sharp and ragged. His hand gripped the belt again, catching as it hung limply from Seven’s cowed neck. Tight fists, tension rolling up his arms, he gave the belt a tug, not enough to cut his air off, but enough to remind him he could. 

His free hand balled into Seven’s hair and pulled, forcing Seven’s eyes to meet his. 

“You’re really gonna sit here, look me in the eye, and tell me she forced you? Tell me Brie threw herself on you??"

“Please, I—I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Seven’s voice was hollow, barely above a pained whisper. He hated this. Hated that he had to say it. Hated that some tiny, desperate part of him had still hoped—stupidly hoped—that Wes would believe him.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, Seven,” Wes shook Seven’s head with the grip in his hair. “You don’t. You’re not that fucking special.”

Wes’s knee hit him hard in the chest before he could respond. Seven keened over and coughed through it, grateful Wes had caught him on an exhale this time.

“I swear to god,” Seven coughed through his words. “SIr, I didn’t— I wouldn’t—” he gasped, “You have to believe me.”

Wes grabbed the front of Seven’s shirt and yanked him back up into a sitting position. 

"You’re lying. You have to be lying."

Before he could react, Wes’ fist crashed into his left eye socket. 

The force of it knocked him back, and Seven collapsed, his knees and arms painfully folded beneath him. He’d been here before. He knew his best bet was to roll over onto his side and tried to curl himself up, using his knees to protect his face. But Wes saw his attempts to shift and apparently didn’t approve, because that expensive shoe came down hard and sudden on his chest, pressing down on his sternum and pinning him to the floor. 

The position was not desirable—his knees seared in pain, his spine was forced to arch with his wrists trapped underneath. Wes saw the opportunity to pull the belt tighter, cutting off his circulation and giving him nowhere to go to relieve the pressure. 

He felt a zip on one of the cuffs as the force of Wes’ foot pushed it one notch tighter. Seven was panicking, fraught with the urge to flee yet forced to freeze. Nowhere to go. 

Wes was getting louder now. His voice boomed off the pristine glass walls and marble flooring. He kicked Seven again, and again, giving him no room nor time to speak, to explain, to be understood. 

“You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know you by now? You can pretend to be all meek and fucking helpless or whatever, but when it comes down to it? You’ll take what you can get. And you did."

It wasn’t true. But it was. He had. He hadn’t wanted to. But he had anyway. Right?

Wes would never see it his way. Action over intent—the loathsome thing. Seven felt gutted. Like he’d taken every raw, bleeding piece of himself, laid them out on a tray—only for Wes to spit on them.

Wes would never understand. Wes would always blame him. And the sooner Seven accepted that, the sooner this would stop.

Seven’s vision was going fuzzy again. He cursed Wes. He cursed Brie. He cursed himself. If he hadn’t been so vulnerable. If he hadn’t been so easy. If he hadn’t let himself get so drunk. He should have stopped it.

It was weak, he tried not to let his voice crack.  “I– I’m sorry, sir.”

He felt the bubbling tears breach the dam of his eyelid and trickle down his marred cheeks. 

“I don’t want you to forget for a second what you are. You are mine. You work for me. You are here because of me. You do not go around hooking up with the sorority girls, or any girls, for fuck’s sake. I don’t wanna see any more hookups. Especially. Not. Brie.

Wes slapped him hard. 

“Ever. Got that?”

“Yes! Yes, sir, please—!” Seven cried out, desperate for it to end. He just wanted Wes to get his anger out and leave him alone. He just wanted to cry in peace. 

“Good.” Wes released Seven completely, letting him drop back to the floor, limbs twisted beneath him, belt loose and laying across his chest. 

Seven gasped, fighting the urge to curl in on himself. He didn't want to incite any more outbursts from Wes. He didn’t move from the position. 

"I don't even know what to do about you lying to me about this. I guess I'll have to think of something. Point is, know your fucking place."

The pain in his knees was a distant ache now—blurred out by something deeper, something that left his chest feeling hollow, his throat raw.

Seven groaned, "Yes, sir."

Above him, Wes adjusted his sleeves, exhaled sharply. 

"Don’t make me have this conversation again.”

And then, without looking back, he turned and walked out.

Seven exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours. His shoulders sagged, only to pull tight again at the cold bite of metal behind his back.

The cuffs.

Still locked.

His only options were to go find Wes—an unthinkable idea in his current state—or to wait it out. Let Wes cool down. Let Wes get hungry. He’d have to unchain Seven’s hands to make dinner eventually. 

Seven turned onto his side, curling around his aching ribs. The floor pressed into his shoulder, pain still pulsating from his elegant swan dive into the marble.

Why was he still laying on the floor? He supposed he wasn’t as lucid as he thought he was. 

Seven stumbled up, nearly tripping on the sleek floor. Letting the world spin for a moment before he took a step, he made his way out of the living room and down the hall to his room. His hands still bound behind him, it was a pitiful pilgrimage. His door was cracked open. Small mercies.

Exhausted, dizzy, and choked out, Seven collapsed onto the bed, letting the gentle warmth of the blanket beneath him press against his bruised face. In his shallow respite, he hardly noticed the subtle weight of the leather still wrapped around his neck. 

He couldn't get a blanket on top of him, not with his hands like this, but this would be good enough until Wes inevitably came to find him. 

༻✦༺ 

Should I continue this? or you can send me situations if you want <33

Seven Taglist: (ask to be added/removed!)

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@suspicious-whumping-egg @theonewithallthefixations @saltyemrys @writing-and-trying @veyroswin

@whumpdreamz @kitstorm @amazingmagda @honeycollectswhump @ijustwannareadsomestuff

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@unorganisedalienrubbish

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Completely normal out of context and out of character clips

[bogos-bint3d]

random thought bc i was making alphyne sims LOL, do you think undyne would ever want to have children? how do you think she’d be as a parent?

While I personally don't quite have a "definite yes" or "definite no" answer for this I personally think that, yeah, possibly! I think it's a question with a lot of layers to it, "is it something the character would want?" "Is it something the character should do?" "How much thought would the character put into it all beforehand?" "How long would the character wait before making that choice?" And first of all I think I should talk about fandom culture's view on kids in general. Why? Because I'm obsessed with validating my opinions like this

It's been said many times by many people now how there are a lot of times where fans end up writing completely out of character for the purpose of placing characters into positions of stereotypical familial structures- ESPECIALLY forcing women into the roles of motherhood where it doesnt fit or make sense for them to the point where I don't think I can really add anything substantial or important to the topic. The pros have very much said what needs to be said.

HOWEVER. I ALSO LIKE TO HAVE FUN WITH FUCKING CHARACTERS. I LIKE TO EXPLORE DIFFERENT TOPICS AND SITUATIONS WITH THEM. I WANT PEOPLE TO BE ABLE TO SHAMELESSLY ENJOY THEIR RIGHT TO INTERPRET CHARACTERS WHERE THEY THINK NESCECARY. WHERE THEY THINK FUCKING FUN!!!

So with that said, while demeaning female characters to singular sad and one dimensionsional traits of "Mother" is very clearly to me Not A Good Thing, people should stop acting like it's a fucking sin to imagine the possibility of a character having a child while still retaining all their accurate attributes, because it is a very possible thing that can be and IS done!!!!!

What are my thoughts on Undyne with all this?

Hehhaahehehaa....... strap in.

Where do I BEGIN. How about the inspirations behind the character of undyne herself.

Ok so see this wonderful lass here. That's a sculpture by Chauncey Ives of the mythical water spirit, Undine. Thinking about it, you all probably know this anyway because I do fairly often reblog Undine themed stuff too. Because I'm just like this. But how about the interesting stuff?

The original myth, created by Paracelsus, an alchemist and philosopher born in the 1400s, I believe comes from his work "A Book on Nymphs, Sylphs, Pygmies, and Salamanders, And Kindered Spirits". I think that's what it was called. I'm too tired to talk fully about it specifically and we need to get to the point so have a video of some guy reading it here

Yay :]

It's pretty much what it says. Paracelsus essentially believed that elemental beings (whom he had adapted and reimagined from ancient or traditional at the time sources) were simply part of the strangeness of God's natural creation and should be studied, as part of appreciation of the Bible etc. And we know ALL ABOUTTTTT utdr and its biblical links/imagery. But back to undine :]

Paracelsus named his takes on the classic concept of elementals: gnomes for earth (YES HE INVENTED THE WORD GNOME!!!!!), sylphs for air (yeah he also invented the word sylph), salamanders for fire (he didn't invent that :[), and of COURSE! UNDINES FOR WATER! He believed undines to be fairly similar to humans, a significant difference being the lack of a soul. Which surely means nothing when talking about Souls Are Important the Video Game. And anyways according to him they were apparently fairly capable of getting a soul through love. Wikipedia also says that Paracelsus says that a child from this love will too have a soul which is nice

Blablabla Wikipedia says undines are like fucking desperate to get a husband or whatever but dudeeeee she can do whatever she fucking wantssssss. I think she can and should be enjoying her life with alphys rather than it being a thing just for a living soul or whatever. They're just happy, no mythology attached

Onto the most iconic interpretation of the myth, 1811s Undine by Friedrich De La Motte Fouque. When you think of the tale of Undine it's almost always that it's this specific story you pull from. Apart from another one I'll briefly touch on later (please hope it's brief). In it, Undine is a woman adopted by a fisherman, who was taken in by the fisherman after his own child died. Hmmmmm wow hmm sort of like how asgore took in undyne after his children died HM BACK ON TOPIC. Personality-wise, Undine is described by Wikipedia (because I don't have the book) as "erratic", and "capricious", which Google dictionary describes as "given to sudden and unaccountable changes of mood or behaviour", which again sounds quite similar to the Undyne we all know and love.

It mentions that when married to Huldbrand (the main guy in the book he's not important tho) she is "kind and gentle" and yeah imo the writing with this IS kinda shit HOWEVER I think if were simply using this as inspiration for undyne I can definitely imagine her *eventually* becoming a calmer and more thoughtful person with A: the presence of someone like alphys to mutually love and understand her for her and B: the absence of having to worry about a war to fight and always sort of being on edge and just being. Like that. And again this would all be a *progressive experience*, rather than in the book where undine literally switches up over night. I do like to consider character and stuff

There's this line from the Wikipedia summary which jumpscared me

I 0% believe this has any significance to deltarune whatsoever however it was so funny out of context I had to add it

Another completely unrelated thing here but there's a fucking guy called "Kuhleborn" and I just. Can homestuck leave me alone. FOR FIVE MINUTES.

Sorry back to cherry picking the story to fit undyne.

Ok so truthfully I don't find anything else from that specific story that I find particularly helpful to undyne, the rest of it's kinda just useless to my point. Re-establishing the fact here that I skipped over a most of the actual significant parts of the story because I specificly want to talk about how I see it parallel to undyne. But that's it really. I just especially wanted to mention this adaptation of the story as it is pretty much the most iconic interpretation of the myth.

That is, interpretations that specifically refer to its source by name. Because by far the most well known media to draw influence from the myth of undine is the iconic Hans Christian Andersen fairytale, "The Little Mermaid". I don't have much to say on how the little mermaid does take much inspiration from undine, other than the way andersen himself interpreted the story. Simply, the fact that Hans Christian Andersen, a man who based this story off of his own feelings at the inability for another man to reciprocate feelings of romance for him, and resonated with the story of undine so much that it was a source of inspiration for the little mermaid itself is so crazy to me. Like. Here is a queer man who read the tale of Undine and understood it so much he wrote his own story inspired by it and made it tie in with his own experiences of homosexuality! Like that's so crazy to me! Because it just makes the undertale character of undyne being sapphic so much better to me! It took the sad story of gay tragedy and took it and made it a story of gay joy!!!!!!! We are all so happys forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok ummmm. I got carried away because we are steering very far away from what this post was originally about. Umm. Point is. Original story was of queer sadness but undertale is now of queer joy + the story of queer joy being based on story where being with this person who you really love and being truly and properly bonded in an undeniable and magical way is enough to give you a soul that will live forever. I think that's somewhere near the point I'm trying to make but at the same time it's not quite the point I was trying to make. And this is absolutely just one interpretation of one relationship and this is by no means in any way supposed to be the end all be all of what ANY relationship should be. I really don't think this is what the definition of love is. However for these characters I feel it can be a huge aspect of it for them

NOW FINALLY MOVING ON TO THE ACTUAL CHARACTER FROM UNDERTALE THANK FUCKING GOODNESS!!!!!

Oh undyne. With some of the implications in game that she lost her family, I very much imagine her being cautious with this sort of situation. Would she be able to handle is for example? Would she know what to do. Given its something she might not even have real first hand experience of, is it something she would even want to risk forcing upon another person? I think she struggles so much with responsibility as it is. She wants nothing more than to protect people and cheesus if she had a kid of her own you know she would be doing every single thing in her power to make sure that kid never has to face what she did. Undyne says at one point in game (if you kill her in neutral i believe) she never told alphys the way she felt because if/when she died in battle, she wouldn't want alphys to deal with that. And again, she really would not want to have a kid if she worries that one day that kid would have to worry about someone they truly care about not being with them anymore

So *would* she want them? I don't really think it would be an overwhelming innate desire or anything like that, but really not against it. Sged need a lot of time beforehand first. Some time to live her life to the fullest, time to make sure it's something she can handle without guilt, time to make sure it's something that does bring her joy. And then yeah, 6 or 7 years minimum I can see it happening. And I think it would be nice

"Now let's talk about susie, can we talk about susie? Please stun (and other readers) I've been dying to talk with you about susie all post, okay?" /ref

I don't really have anything to add I just think alphyne should adopt susie. In every timeline. Undertale deltarune I just think ok. Because she doesn't have a good home life to the point where she's like just Not Safe and hm young couple with no children in her area? Undyne would want to help her soooo bad because she understands just what it feels like to be young and alone not really cared for and she would NEED to fix it. That's defo how it is for undertale at LEAST. Idk entirely with dr if it'd be exactly like that cause we don't know what undynes got going down in dr yet.. but even so that's nothing to stop them

Anways yeah I think you mightve been waiting just a wee bit long for the answer to this ask I uhh.....m.....mmmm. yeah man I... yeah. I really do genuinely hope you enjoyed his tho cause uts currently quarter to 2 in the morning and I'm going on a train & to the aquarium tmrw so my ass CANNOT be waking up at 11 am again. Shits fucked. But when I tell you when I'm locked in on an undyne topic I AM LOCKED IN. IT TOOK A WHILE BUT I FINALLY DID IT. MORE THAN HALF OF THIS WAS WRITTEN WITH NO BREAKS OF CHECKS BUT THATS THE BEAUTY!!!!!! FLY MY SCARAB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[starkspondwater]

In "Die Hippie Die" Linda Stotch reveals she's an engineer and I think that should be addressed more often because what a drop

[whump-polls]

(what gender do you prefer for a whumpee, not just generally in whump)

i know that this is simplified and doesn't include all possible combinations of preference and attraction, you can't explore a lot of nuance in this format but this is probably the most complex i can get within the poll options, feel free to pick other/nuance and elaborate in the tags or discuss in comments/reblogs!

e.g if you prefer female characters in whump and arent attracted to anyone (not women or anyone else) or multiple genders excluding women, pick the 4th option if you prefer female characters and are attracted to multiple genders including women, pick the 3rd

(of course male/female characters also include trans characters)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

every day i think of xmen evolution wanda and everyday i wonder if- while she does have the fake happy memories with magneto- how does she actually FEEL about him when he's brought up or she thinks about him

is there just this underlying anger/rage but she cant ever place why so she ignores it ....... does she just feel numb ....