♡Dating With Txt♡

I just ripped three of my Kpop posters while taking them down since I'm moving.

I am devastated.

And Yeonjun's missing eye is taunting me.

1.) I have been given the title of Ven Gogh from my bestie and then occasionally I'm hit with Darwin.

2.) Brown/horribly dyed black with box dye. I've had every color just to settle on black and it's kinda anticlimactic after my last attempt at being blue.

3.) Blue but like the Harry Styles fanfiction kind.

4.) 5'8 :)

5.) Three, sadly. They all live to annoy me.

6.) I have six cats!! Getting my seventh next week 😭

7.) Yellow tehehe (I'm a Hufflepuff)

8.) 11

9.) Okapi! It's a mix between a zebra and a horse and they're like a failed attempt at breeding a unicorn.

10.) The inevitable death that will one day consume us all. That or the fact that our planet is going to go hurtling into the sun and we're all going to slowly burn alive and the planet is going to set itself on fire. Oh, and ladybugs.

11.) I really like Othello!! I'm old, I know.

12.) Pansexual. I have too much love contained to be forced to share it with only one gender.

13.) I don't even know myself 😻 I like to fall somewhere between man, woman, and intergalactic space alien.

14.) English. I use the stuff I learn in there for my fanfics. For example, parallel structure. I also have a hot English teacher. Don't tell her I said that.

15.) Just my ears, but I hope to have my septum soon. I'm not opposed to decking myself out in piercings, I think they're the coolest.

16.) Not yet, but I will be getting one on my wrist hopefully in the near future! I want to get a meaningful one and then cover the rest of my body in Junji Ito.

17.) I play volleyball!

18.) I used to be an active cosplayer (cringe, I know) but now I play the ukulele, I draw, write, read, play with makeup, watch a crap ton of movies, play volleyball, and learn new languages!

19.) I will listen to anything except for country! K-pop tends to be my favorite genre but I also love Japanese metal, indie, punk, pop punk, rock and oh geez the list goes on.

20.) I've read so many great books in my lifetime but I would have to say it's between "Looking For Alaska" by John Green and "Running With Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs. Those ones have impacted me the most.

21.) My favorite shows (because I can't possibly pick just one) are: The Walking Dead, Strangers From Hell, My Holo Love, BBC Sherlock, and Alice In Borderland; not in that particular order.

22.) My favorite movie.... Well I'm technically not allowed to talk about it but it involves clubs and fighting and just a little schizophrenia.

23.) I have a stupid ass nose that I hate with every fiber of my being but I'm pretty decently okay looking in real life. Or you can just imagine I'm some super hot guy if you want 🥲

24.) I play a ton of Persona 5 so I think it'd be illegal for me to reveal my identity as I consider myself a Phantom Thief 🎉😻

25.) Sunflowers. I know it's basic, but ever since I had a dream about J-Hope in a field of sunflowers I've been in love with them.....and him.

26.) Favorite food?!?!? PANKO SHRIMP

27.) I'm good at everything (that's a lie)

28.) I wish I was better at portraying myself as a human. I get into my complexes where I think everyone is a randomly automated bot and I'm living in a simulation, so I tend not to trust easily. (This is also a lie, if I had to be better at anything it would probably be lying)

29.) I spend a lot of time centering myself around Kpop. I mean like four hours a day. Whether it's looking at pictures, watching music videos, listening to it, putting on Chan's lives in the background to keep me sane, it's an all day sort of thing.

30.) I thought it already asked me about hobbies, but I'll pretend it says "What type of Hobbits do you have" so that I can say I keep a little Frodo Baggins in my back pocket.

💛🦐

Get to know me asks

Nickname?

Hair color?

Eye color?

Height?

Any siblings?

Any pets?

Favorite color?

Favorite number?

Favorite animal?

Any phobias?

Favorite game?

Sexuality?

Gender identity?

Favorite subject in school?

Any piercings?

Any tattoos?

Do you like sports?

What are your hobbies?

Favorite music genre?

Favorite book?

Favorite show?

Favorite movie?

Describe one thing about your physical appearance

Describe one thing about your identity

Favorite flower?

Favorite food?

Something you’re good at?

Something you wish you were better at?

Something you spend a lot of time doing?

A hobby you have?

Hannibal

Macabre:

A referral to a new psychiatrist was supposed to be the worst thing you could think of. However, your new therapist is kinda hot.

Macabre (Part Two)

(Romance/Horror)

Close Call:

Dr. Chilton gets a little too close to Hannibal's wife; all the more reason to show the two of you who you really belong to.

(Romance /Horror)

Nigel Banyai X Will Graham:

DOGSDOGS: Will is called to Bucharest for an investigation following the aftereffects of Hannibal's death. Nigel wants to ensure his and Darko's safety and remain outside the eye of the FBI.

In progress!

(Angst/Fluff/Horror)

Goddamn Namjoon 💍🦆

wow he’s so fine [cr. dwellingsouls]

This just made my day omg it's so cute 💛🦐

Dog Days (TASM!Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: You might have been ever so slightly perturbed about Peter seeing you in your underwear if he wasn’t sporting a large cut along his jawline; one that looked achingly fresh.

“Did you shave with a machete this morning?” You asked, stepping out of the doorway and making room for him to enter.

“A scythe, actually,” Peter deadpanned.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Andrew Garfield!Spiderman; friends to lovers; heated make-out; cursing; minor injury; mutual pining; possible part 1 of 2? characters are in college & of age.

It was hot. That sticky kind of hot that clung to you and made you feel like tearing your skin off. That makes the sweat pool at the nape of your neck until it slides in a cold streak down the curve of your spine. The New York air was shimmering, alive with exhaust fumes and the output of overworked air conditioning units of every apartment on your block—except for yours. The dumbass thing had broken overnight and when you woke up at five a.m., damp and uncomfortable, you’d called your best friend knowing he’d make a quick fix of it.

But you’d gotten his voicemail, unsurprising given that he’d never been a morning person. Since you’d met him three years ago at freshman orientation, Peter Parker had perfectly offset you in every way. Where he could stay in bed until noon, you were decidedly not a night owl, often cosy in your pyjamas by ten p.m. Peter had a sharp wit and loved to tease, and though his wit brought out a sharp tongue you’d never known you had, you were infinitely shyer than he was. He was perpetually late to everything from the Christmas dinner you’d invited him to at your parents’ home to your final exam for Organic Chemistry—which he’d passed with flying colours—whereas you were punctual to a fault. And perhaps most significantly, you’d never known heartbreak in your life, never had the opportunity because you’d never given anyone your heart to begin with. Peter’s heart, you knew, had endured the worst kind of break. Though he only spoke of her sometimes, you knew his high school girlfriend had died tragically and each year you went with him to visit her resting place, holding his hand and running your thumb over his knuckles as gently as you could. The depths of that pain, written on his face and in his body language whenever he spoke of Gwen, made you steel yourself against love, afraid to give yourself to anyone in case you left them broken and alone.

There was a flaw in your plan to avoid love forever though, and that was Peter himself. As much as you’d tried to swallow them, shut them up in the deepest pits of your soul, bury them where they’d never see the light of day, your feelings for him had only grown in the last three years. At first it was a little thrill each time his eyes met yours, a tingle on your skin when his fingers grazed your own while you shared a carton of fries at a Yankees game. That had grown, exploded really, into a brilliant whirl of colours every time you heard his voice—a sort of love-induced synesthesia that turned Peter’s laughter yellow and his whispers soft purple and his calling your name the deepest, richest scarlet.

You’d fallen desperately in love with your best friend and you were resolutely not going to do anything about it, thank you very much.

“Y/N!” There was a knock at the door of your cramped apartment that drew you out of your crossword puzzle—stuck, as you were, on 18-Down. “It’s Peter!”

You’d barely heard the knock over the sound of Eminem in your headphones, but there was no mistaking Peter’s voice. You were at the door, earbuds abandoned on the coffee table, pulling it open before you remembered that you’d traded in your baggy David Bowie tee and jean shorts for a barely-there camisole and blue panties of the lightest cotton. You might have been ever so slightly perturbed about Peter seeing you in your underwear if he wasn’t sporting a large cut along his jawline; one that looked achingly fresh.

“Did you shave with a machete this morning?” You asked, stepping out of the doorway and making room for him to enter.

“A scythe, actually,” Peter deadpanned. If only you’d known he was being entirely serious—his neck having had a near miss with some villain’s techno-reproduction of a classic medieval weapon only hours ago. “It’s hot as hell in here, Y/N. Are you trying to get me naked?”

Your cheeks flushed and you made quick work of rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible, trying to distract Peter from the change of colour in your face. He was an expert at changing the subject, so much so that you’d long since given up trying to get him to talk about anything he didn’t want to, such as why he was chronically late or where he’d disappeared to that night you had tickets for the Rangers playoff game, or how he managed to find time to workout with his ridiculous school schedule and familial duties because god damn, his arms—you stopped yourself from letting that thought full form, knowing it would send you down a rabbit hole.

“Don’t think I’m not keeping a tally of every time you dodge my questions,” you muttered, moving to the refrigerator and opening it briefly to let some cool air out on your heated chest. The emptiness of the shelves reminded you that you really needed to get groceries because ramen noodles, eggs, and the rapidly decaying bananas on the counter would not keep you alive forever. “And didn’t you get my voicemail?”

“No,” Peter shrugged, “I saw you left me one but thought I’d just swing by.” A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, though you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what the joke was.

“Well, the AC is broken,” you informed him, straightened up and facing him where he stood in your living room, his tall and lean frame a familiar sight there alongside the stacks of textbooks and novels, the record player, and the pile of throw pillows you couldn’t stop collecting. For a long moment, Peter stared at you, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he was just now seeing you since coming in. You felt much more naked than you actually were under his stare and shifted your weight from one leg to the other, your hand coming to tug down at the hem of your camisole. Peter had seen you nearly nude before, but this felt—different. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the unfamiliar expression that flashed across his eyes. Either way, it had you squeezing your legs together as subtly as possible. If Peter noticed, he didn’t let on.

“That explains the outfit,” he grinned, tone light, though you noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed hard.

“It was hardly my first choice,” you shot back, “But anyways, now that you’re here do you think you could fix it?”

“This feels like the start of a por—”

“Don’t say it, Parker,” you cut him off with a warning glare, eyes wide. Peter only laughed, though stopped almost immediately, favouring his jaw. Already it looked like the gash was healing and you wondered where he’d gotten it from—it reminded you, oddly, of the ankle he’d “sprained” while showing you a skateboarding trick last summer. You would swear up and down, on every holy text that existed, that you’d seen his bone popping out of his skin. But the next day he’d been absolutely fine and you were certain that the limp he’d had for a week was half-faked.

“Y/N? Are you alive in there?” Peter’s amused voice drew you from your reverie and you nodded, running your fingers through your hair to get it out of your face.

“Alive and well,” you reported, “So you think you can fix it?”

***

As it turned out, Peter could fix the AC unit, but he’d need to pick up a part at the hardware store down the street. While he examined the ancient device mounted on your bedroom wall, you sat perched on your bed, silky pink blankets long since tossed to the floor, watching him with interest, noticing everything about the way his hands moved carefully over the shabby metal, the way his brow furrowed when he peeked inside the unit, and the way his eyes crinkled when he announced that it wouldn’t be an issue to repair.

For his part, Peter knew your eyes were on him—he wouldn’t go so far as to call it Spidey-sense, he just knew you and he’d had an inkling of the feelings you harboured for him for quite some time, though that part probably was Spidey-sense. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way, because god knows he did, but he was terrified to let himself fall in love again; beyond hesitant to ever let anyone get hurt again because of him. But then there was the way you looked at him, your eyes sparkling with delight when he made a stupid joke. And the way you said his name, like it was a magic spell wrapping itself up inside him and making him forget everything other than your voice. Yes, he loved you—more deeply than he’d thought he’d ever love again—but he was afraid to be in love with you.

When he delivered the happy news that he’d be able to get cool air back into your apartment, he felt his heart swell at the look of relief on your face.

“You’re my hero, Pete,” you said earnestly, “Really and truly.”

You had no idea.

“Yeah,” he said lightly, “I’m the best.” He saw the pillow coming at him even before it fully left your hands and dodged it in a swift, graceful motion.

“That’s not very nice,” Peter grinned wolfishly at you and your heart fluttered, “Here I am helping you out like a dear old gentleman and you throw things at me.” With another two quick, almost instantaneous steps, he was at your bedside, his hands coming down to your ribcage, fingers curling in as he began to tickle you mercilessly. You couldn’t do much more than squeal, kicking gently to get him off of you, whining his name as you begged him to stop.

“Peter!” you cried out, “It’s too hot for this!” There were tears in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks and your bottom lip was swollen from where you were biting it to try to keep control of your laughter. Looking down at you, Peter knew he was finished, absolutely doomed, to fall into the warm and beautiful void that was loving you.

His fingers paused their attack and you both seemed to take stock of the position you found yourself in; you, flat on your back in bed, hair a dishevelled mess haloed out over your head; him, legs spread so that they were straddling your hips, his arms on either side of your body, lean muscles holding him up.

“Pete—” you whispered, eyes fluttering down to where your bodies met, lashes wet with unshed tears.

He blinked once, twice, three times, a pregnant pause in the hot air before his brain supplied the two words he’d been wanting to hear, giving him permission to plunge forward. Fuck it.

“Y/N,” he licked his lips, “You—” his fingers moved from your ribs to the edge of your camisole, thumbing across its stitching, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes shot up to his, pupils dilated. Your lips twitched, uncertain. “Don’t do this,” you sighed, all the while your own hands moved as if of their own accord, coming to rub up and down his arms, caressing lightly over the rippling muscle.

“Do what?” he asked, hand pausing in its movement to slip under your shirt. He withdrew it immediately, hoping he’d not grossly misread the situation.

“Don’t start something with me that you won’t finish,” your voice was barely there, “I—” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, couldn’t utter those little words out loud, but you knew Peter understood. You could tell from the way he settled down closer to you, his lips running feather-light kisses along your collarbone, the way he brushed the lightly calloused pad of his thumb over your eyes.

“Y/N, I feel like I was finished the moment I met you,” he said, “And now I’d really like to give you a proper kiss, if you don’t mind.”

“Hopefully you’re as good at kissing as you are at running that mouth, Par—”

The words couldn’t finish leaving your lips because Peter’s shut them right back into your mouth. He kissed you gently at first, then ran his tongue along your lips, asking entrance which you granted easily enough. Your kiss went on for what felt like years, each of you learning the other with care and attention. His hands explored your body freely, eliciting small moans of approval that led him along a path he was memorizing and then his lips were navigating that same path, kissing and nipping at your shoulders, your clavicle, your navel, between your breasts at the edge of your shirt.

You were on fire as your hands tangled into his soft brown hair, nails gently massaging into his scalp. You knew, from the vibrations on his lips, that he liked the sensation and filed that information away for a later date.

Once he’d kissed all the way down to your ankles, Peter flopped onto the mattress beside you, watching as your chest heaved with pleasure.

“It feels even hotter in here than before,” he smirked, “I should go grab that part, yeah?”

You swatted at him, laughter on your lips. “You’re the worst, Peter Parker.”

He caught your hand in mid-air, wrapping his fingers around yours and gently squeezing your palm—once, twice, three times. Three squeezes for three little words that neither of you were ready to say yet, but that you would willingly show each other.

“I’m serious,” Peter said, “I’ll grab the part and a pizza and we can hang out, even though I’m the worst.”

You rolled your eyes again, still trying to steady your heart rate. “Like I said, my hero. How can I ever repay you?” For good measure, you placed the back of your hand against your forehead, faking a swoon.

Peter only looked at you with fire in his eyes. “I can think of a few ways.”

He was out of the room before you could throw another pillow at him. Shame.

OMG wait this is so cute thank you for tagging me!

Last movie I watched: The Neverending Story but specifically the second one because my boyfriend needs noise to sleep and that's the disc we had.

Last book I read: Call Me By Your Name. I was going through another wave of Timothée Chalamet adoration and I thought that it would be cool to finally read the book!

Last song I listened to: 21 C/Delta by Jack Harlow 😭 he's my guilty pleasure artist definitely.

Currently watching: Nothing. I don't usually have the time to sit through TV shows but every now and then I complete one. I was excited for the second season of Alice in Borderland, but I wasn't too pleased with the outcome of season two :(

Currently eating: Pickles and ranch, the best food combo ever on my opinion.

Currently craving: Pickles and ranch which makes sense because I'm eating them.

This was fun! Thanks again for tagging me!

I'm tagging:

@andrewgarfield2022 @blu-ray-ok @leggomylino

💛🦐

tag 9 people you wanna get to know more!

i can't believe that 3 ppl (who i also really wanted to know about and was so interested in reading their takes on this tag) tagged me, i am shocked XDD

thank you so much @thedudewithfivenames , @wantsword , @norttinson <333

ok here we go

three ships: Soapshipping + Narrator/Marla, AngelRicky

favorite ship ever: probably AmberPrice from Life is Strange :")

last song: skeletons by snake eyes

last movie: can't remember 😭 probably was rewatching fight club (for the plot of course)

currently reading: american psycho!

currently watching: you on netflix. great show, s1 joe won my heart

currently consuming: nothing but i plan on making morning coffee lol

currently craving: some flaming hot chips rrrrrrrr need those like right in this moment

feel free to ignore! i'm tagging @shynarrator , @hobisfavoritespritecan , @blondedmuse , @narraticn aaaand i think that will be all since i'm kinda scared to bother people x))

My heart hurts from loving Johnny so much

💛🦐

is this what falling in love feels like

This is so good!! 💛🦐

Theatrics

Jay Gatsby x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: drinking, men coming onto the reader

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for requesting for Gatsby! No one ever requests for him so this was very fun to do. I hope you enjoy love!

Requested: by anon, Hi I’m new and I just recently got super into the great Gatsby I was hoping you could please do a Jay Gatsby (fanfic maybe) (2013 film) about him and his wife maybe where Jay hosts a party and someone tries flirting with the wife in front of Gatsby he doesn’t know they are married but Jay just kinda reacts if really appreciate it I have trouble finding Jay Gatsby 2013 stories so I’d love seeing it and I saw your previous stories and such you did on him your a fantastic writer!! (Maybe he was just smiles for a little knowing it was ridiculous than as it was clear he wasn’t going to be got more and more mad like he did at Tom during the hotel scene Oof-) (it so could be Tom and he gets really mad like bro you already had Daisy now you want my wife nah haha)

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The party was about to start. You loved it when Jay threw parties. You knew that people would come to gossip and everyone in West Egg enjoyed a good Gatsby party. Maybe you just liked being the center of attention. Maybe you liked it when Jay was.

Whatever the reason was, you were pleased to find everything in place for your final preparations. People would start filling in soon in droves. You passed each other waiters carefully checking all of the plates they were holding. They made quick small talk as you passed, making sure everything was alright.

You heard a loud clap and everyone stopped moving.

Your eyes all went up to the staircase where Jay was standing, a grand smile on his face.

“My dear?!” he called.

“Yes?” you called back to him. He met your eyes from the distance, his smile widening.

“Open up the doors!”

You nodded and turned around to the waiters, gesturing for each of them to get the doors. You opened up the main one and people were already waiting.

You stood by the door as they came in, saying hello to those you knew and eavesdropping on those you didn’t. Before you knew it the room was completely filled to the brim with people. Drinks and food were being handed out. You had lost Jay to the crowd which was expected. You often found each other near the end of the night anyway.

“Y/N?” a man called. You turned, your lips upturned in a rehearsed smile.

“Nick! Hello dear, how are you? I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it,” you said, rushing over to your neighbor.

“I was able to afterall. Do you know where Gatsby is? Jay, I mean,” he said sheepishly. You shook your head.

“Sorry, I don’t. I’m sure he’s bound to turn up somewhere, sloshing some sort of drink around.” He nodded in agreement. “Try to enjoy yourself. There’s plenty of food if you want. Perhaps you can even find a nice person to go home with.” He shook his head laughing.

“I think I’ll have to find the food.” You nodded and patted him on the back.

“Then I will see you later. Have fun!” You walked past him further into the crowd. You loved these parties. You loved that barely anyone there knew that you lived there. Often people would whisper about Mr and Mrs Gatsby, the infamous party throwers and how people rarely had ever met the two of you.

You preferred to remain an idea.

You grabbed a champagne glass from one of the waiters and sat down in one of the free spots on the couches. You happened to be right next to a man you had never met before. You didn’t spare him more than a glance but you could feel his gaze on you as you took a drink of your champagne.

“Do you frequent these parties?” he asked you. You looked over at him and gave him the ‘who me?’ look before answering.

“No, can’t say that I do,” you said. You liked your identity as an idea, why not keep it that way? Plus, you had to have a little fun at these parties if you wanted to keep them going.

“You’re gorgeous, I think I would remember you,” he said, leaning against the couch. You smiled politely.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t this house beautiful? I hear the couple that lives here is even more so. I mean, not nearly as beautiful as you though.” You held back a scoff.

“Yes it’s a wonderful house.”

“So what’s your name? Did you come with someone?”

“Actually yes, I did.”

“Oh well you don’t have to leave with them,” he said leaning into you. His breath stunk of alcohol. You stood up slowly.

“Thank you but I’m truly alright,” you told him as kindly as you could muster. He stood up too. You were trying to figure out how you were going to get out of this hole you had dug yourself when you felt a hand on the small of your back. You turned swiftly to find Jay standing beside you. “There you are,” you said happily.

“Who’s this?” he asked stiffly. The man extended his hand.

“Daniel.” Jay didn’t shake it and Daniel let his hand drop awkwardly. “You are?”

“Jay Gatsby. This, old chap, is my wife you were speaking with.” You could feel his light tension but didn't imagine that he would get into too much of a fight.

“Oh!” Daniel said, suddenly very embarrassed. “My apologies, I didn't know.” You gave him a curt nod.

“Clearly,” Jay said. “I was about to get something from the kitchen if you would like to join me,” he said to you. You nodded pleasantly.

“Lead the way darling.”

The two of you left the man in the dust as you weaved through the crowd to the bustling kitchen. Waiters came and went but it was big enough to where you were able to get a moment of peace there. The guests greatly outnumbered the waiters.

“Nick was looking for you,” you said.

“Everyone is looking for me dear,” he said, leaning against the wall. “We’re the Gatsbys.” You nodded slowly, looking at him.

“I was about to tell him that you know.”

“Oh I know. But I wanted to make sure you got lost in the crowd before he could find you again.”

“After your clear intimidation, I don’t think he will go looking again,” you promised, grabbing his hand. You kissed the back of his hand gently and he brought his other hand to his cheek.

“I am known for my theatrics.”

“You don’t have to tell me that darling.”

TXT Boyfriend Headcannons

Coming out to the boys as Transgender FTM

TXT X MALE READER

Warnings: Accidental misgendering, slight angst, a lot of fluff

Summary: You've finally come to terms with the fact that you were born in the wrong body. You've been wanting to tell your boyfriend that you want to transition, but you're scared of his reaction.

Yeonjun

He knew something had been bothering you for a while way before you had the balls to tell him

(literally)

You had sauntered into his bedroom later in the night, after you had gotten done practicing with work for the day and you had instantly went for cuddles

Usually this meant that something was wrong and that your mood was off, to which Yeonjun would "cuddle the sad out of you" and his comfort would be enough to wipe your worries away

But tonight, it seemed different and his cuddles deemed ineffective

"Baby, what's wrong? You've been avoiding me all day and now my cuddles aren't even enough to make you happy"

Yeonjun looks down at you and his heart breaks when he sees your eyes well up with tears

"Y-Yeonjunnie, you s-said that you'd love m-me no matter what right?"

Now he is VERY confused

"SHIT (Y/N), Are you pregnant??????"

This actually makes you laugh and you reply with "No obviously not."

Yeonjun's racing heart calms down a little

"Yeonjunnie. I think I was born in the wrong body."

Yeonjun was even more confused now, reaching out to grab your hand and saying a few words trying to comfort you, thinking it was your body dysmorphia flaring up again. Only to find out... It wasn't.

"Yeonjun. I'm a boy."

Why would you be so afraid to tell him that? He doesn't understand why you'd be so scared, did he make you feel as though you had to hide from him?

He hugs you with a tight and loving embrace

"And you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for."

Soobin

You had been weird all week.

Avoiding swimming with the members after practice, watching the things you eat, hiding out in your room and wearing abnormally large hoodies

Soobin was nervous that these were the signs you were depressed

So he went to the store on his way home from vocal coaching and he picked you up some flowers and a Brisk half and half, your favorite

He dramatically walks into your room with a "Babe, Look what I have for youuuuuuu"

And to his surprise, he finds you standing in front of a mirror, your chest taped down and your hair up out of your face

"Soobs, what the hell?"

His smile falters as he takes in your tear-streaked face and he runs to hug you which makes you jump

"I'm sorry, I should've knocked. How long have you been keeping this from me?"

Soobin is really smart when it comes to these things. He's very intuitive with people's feelings and he's done lots of research regarding the LGBTQ since he recently discovered he identified in the bisexual area

Which was good for you, because Soobin took your arms and held them up to his face

"What are you doing?"

"Having my boyfriend caress my face, now it's time for our nightly movie and I want to kiss you while you drink your brisk tea I got you

You were so overwhelmed with love, that your next response was delayed

"Wait wait wait wait wait you got me brisk tea???!? The half and half?!?!?"

"That's the one"

Beomgyu

He had found out by snooping through your shared closet one day

'whats this?'

He pulls out one of your binders, hidden under a bunch of clothes on the floor

"(Y/N), what kind of bra is this?"

He asks you as a joke, but you just about had a heart attack then and there

"Give me that." You ripped it from his hands, leaving him drunk dazed and confused

"What's wrong?" He touches your shoulder and leans down to put his chin in the crevice if your collarbone as he usually does "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Beomgyu's words of kindness bring you back down from your cloud of anger and you reach out to pet his hair

"Gyu, you didn't do anything wrong, it's just- I've been keeping something from you for a while and I've been nervous for your reaction."

Beomgyu listens intently as you tell him about your gender dysphoria and how scared you've been to open up to him or any of the other members

He pulls you into a hug

"You'll always be my little squish, whether you're a girl or a guy I'd still love to make out over Applebee's"

You knew this was Beomgyu's way of showing affection so you went with it and hugged him so tight you thought your arms would fall off

"Thank you, Gyu."

Taehyun

"Darlingggggg when will you come swimming with us?"

Taehyun had asked you this same question for the past couple of weeks, but you keep putting him off, telling him that you're busy or you're not feeling well

In all actuality, it was the fact that you were inexperienced with wearing a binder in the water and you didn't want to force yourself into a bikini for the sake of your boyfriend being pleased

You have yet to come out to him about being trans, and Everytime you tried to have that conversation he had been busy or the timing wasn't right

But you were both in his car, Chase Atlantic playing softly on the stereo as Taehyun drove you to your favorite ramen shop. He promised you ramen if you were to go swimming, which you accepted with hopes you'd be able to have the conversation tonight

As you walked in, you were met with the delicious smell of egg rolls and ramune, and you found your way to a seat in the back

You had just ordered your food when you caught Taehyun staring right at you, seemingly looking through your eyes into your soul

"What're you doing?" You asked as he stared some more

"Looking at my darling, the most beautiful girl in the world."

And there it was, the source of your upcoming panic attack. Yeonjun knew about your situation so he used your correct pronouns without problem. In fact, all the boys were trying to use your new pronouns and you were surprised that Taehyun had yet to ask you what you preferred

"Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."

You got up from your chair and headed straight for the ladies room (you weren't comfortable with the men's restroom just yet) and you locked yourself in a stall to calm your panic attack

Twenty minutes go by and Taehyun gets nervous, so he goes to check on you

"(Y/N), is everything okay in there?"

Seeing no one, he walks into the bathroom to find you crying on the ground

"Darling? Darling what's wrong?"

"I-I'm not a girl..."

Sudden realization dawns on him as he realizes why the other members had acted so weird earlier when he brought you up and said how beautiful you were

"Darling, hey I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't know, I'm madly in love with you, even if I have the pleasure of calling you my boyfriend now instead of my girlfriend"

"Really? You still love me even though I'm not a girl anymore?"

"Of course." He gave you the biggest hug and ruffled your hair, feeling your heartbeat calm with his presence.

Taehyun held you as close to him as he could and whispered loud enough that you could hear; "You're the most handsome boy in the world and it's a pleasure to be with you."

Hueningkai

He knew

He saw it in the way you tried to wear all of his baggy clothes and with the way you started carrying yourself. You were always talking with Beomgyu about something, staying at his place late nights for your talks and Hyuka knew where this was headed

You were taking secret ninja classes and Beomgyu was your instructor

He was waiting for you to come up to him about it though, of course. He couldn't risk the idea of you knowing his awareness of your secret life, it wasn't the ninja way

So when you sat him down at the table to talk one night while you were eating rice, he could barely contain his excitement

"Hyuka, I have something to tell you. I understand if you won't have feelings for me anymore after this, but I have to tell you in order for me to truly open up about being myself"

At this point, he was practically bouncing

"I-I'm trans"

What did that mean? He stopped being all giddy as he lets it sink in what you told him. Trans? So you weren't a ninja?

Disappointment clearly crossed his face, and you were ready for him to tell you the bad news of 'Im sorry (Y/N)' or 'I'm straight.' Thousands of thoughts ran through your head and you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. Just then-

"So you're not a ninja?"

Uhm what?

"What are you talking about Hyuka?"

"All my hoodies you stole, it was because you were trying to hide your chest and not your identity?"

You laughed so hard and for so long that you couldn't breathe and eventually Hyuka joined in

"I knew you were my boyfriend, I just thought that Beomgyu was your secret ninja instructor or something." Kai held onto your waist as he gave you a hug from behind, kissing the side of your cheek and smiling into your neck.

At this, you laughed again at Kai's misunderstanding and you kissed him back

"The first rule of being a ninja is not telling anyone your secret identity. If I were a ninja, I would have failed by now." You said, playing with his hair

"This is why I love you. Wanna watch Surf Ninjas?"

"Hell yeah"

(sorry for the random ENHYPEN reference in Beomgyu's story)

BTS of Spiderman: no way home