#myself to get them bc i didnt deserve them or whatever

[taeeflwrr]

oh my god was this a rollercoaster of emotions #bringbackangst #imafeministdespiteallthethoughtsthatthisficmademeentertain #forgivemesinceitwashyuck

death by a thousand cuts | l.hc

“but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?”

💿now playing: death by a thousand cuts by taylor swift

❯ summary: If you get more than one love in a lifetime, why does your heart still beat for the boy who wrecked you completely?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, second chance, cheating trope, smut.

❯ words: 9.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, cheating (booo), exes, toxic relationship, a therapy joke, lots of angst, swearing, heartbreak, a whole lotta hurt, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, arguing, heavy petting, protected sex, nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), i can’t lie this is just 9k words of heartache and sex lol.

an: this fic will not be for everyone!! i do not condone cheating in any way, you’re a loser if you cheat. i just felt like writing something heart achey, and this is my favourite taylor swift song that inspires cheating fics whenever i listen to it.

“Give me that!”

Yeji snatches the phone out of your hand with the kind of urgency only a best friend possesses—the kind forged after too many years of watching you do the stupidest things when it comes to boys. Her eyes flare the moment she spots the familiar username. 

@ haechanahceah

“Oh my god. You’re kidding.” Her thumb hovers accusingly over the screen. “Y/N, it’s been a year. A whole year. Why haven’t you blocked Hyuck yet?”

You don’t answer immediately. Just tilt your head back with an exhausted exhale, reaching for the phone. Not because you want it back, but because it feels incriminating in her hands. Like a wound she’s now inspecting. And you don’t need her inspecting it.

“Because we’re okay,” you say, not entirely convincingly. “Mostly.”

It was just a like. On an Instagram post. Of him—with his friends.

(Some of them girls. Most of them girls. All of them tagged. And you definitely weren’t planning on clicking through their profiles in the middle of your best friend coffee date with your screen brightness criminally low. Definitely not.)

“And because we’re friends,” you add breezily. Then you pluck the phone from her hand and tap back into the app, your thumb moving faster than your brain, already leaving a comment beneath his photo.

Something flippant. Something funny. Something that screams: See? I’m a functioning, emotionally stable adult who can totally be friends with the boy who annihilated my heart while he gallivants around Europe on a boat with girls. 

Except probably subtler. 

Yeji stares at you like she’s witnessing a slow-motion car crash. “Oh, absolutely. And when that guy drove me home from the bar last weekend and told me I had pretty eyes, we were just friends too.”

You roll your eyes, swatting the air with your hand. “That’s different. Hyuck’s my childhood best friend. I can’t just cut him off now that we’re not…” you pause, the words catching in your throat like they always do, “you know?”

“No. I don’t know,” she says, arms crossed and chin lifted in that annoyingly perceptive way of hers. “Because you two are in a loop. An exhausting, toxic, ‘I-don’t-know-where-we-stand-with-each-other’ loop. And staying in touch with him is why you can’t move on.”

“We are not toxic.”

You are. 

But you’d already said it out loud like a reflex, before you even had time to make it sound believable. So, you try to fix it. 

“We’re just…”

You trail off, blinking hard like the answer might fall from the ceiling.

 “Co-dependent?” Lia offers helpfully. 

 You sigh. “Yes. That. Thank you, Lia.”

“It’s weird, is what it is,” Yeji says. 

You lean back in your chair, arms folded across your chest like armour. “Ugh. You wouldn’t get it.”

And they wouldn’t. They never have.

Because nobody gets you and Hyuck. Not Yeji, not Lia, not even the therapists you’ve paid a concerning amount of money to explain it all to you. No amount of therapy or psychoanalysis can remove the him-shaped hole inside of you. The way he exists like a second heartbeat.

How many times does a person truly get to fall in love? Not the practical kind. But the kind that rewires you completely. That makes you wonder how you ever existed before this person, and fear who you might become after. 

If love were fair—the answer would be simple. Once. Only ever once.

Because to love someone—truly love someone—is not just to hand over your heart. It’s to fold it delicately, wrap it in every part of your soul, and place it willingly in that person’s pocket. Trusting that they won’t ever give it back frayed or barely beating. 

And if they do (and he definitely did) well, what remains might resemble a heart, but it never beats the same again. You don’t think it ever will.

So yes. One love. One person. One boy—him.

Yeji calls it nostalgia. Says that since he was your first everything, it feels bigger than it was, and that’s why he’s taking up too much space inside your chest. She says you're scared of forgetting. But that’s not it.

You’d give anything to forget. It’s better than remembering everything. Of living in a world where he’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. Where songs feel like him. Where movies feel like him. Where your own body sometimes feels like him because he’s marked it so damn much.

But if you did move on, if you could—you’d still have to ask yourself: where does all that breathless, foolish, all-consuming love go? 

The common consensus is that love turns to hate when it stays too long without being fed. But you can’t imagine a universe cruel enough to make you hate the very boy who made you believe in soulmates.

So you don’t hate him. Even though you should.

“Fine,” Yeji slumps back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp with that familiar fury she reserves exclusively for you—when you’re being like this. “You’re right. I don’t get it. I don’t get why you’re still in cahoots with the same boy who cheated on you and left you a complete mess.”

Lia gasps. “Yeji!”

But the thing is—Yeji has a point. And you know that. But knowing something and truly understanding it is two different things. 

You don’t understand how he put his hands on someone else. How his mouth touched a body that wasn’t yours. How he delivered that line—“I didn’t mean for it to happen”—with the kind of ease that made you wonder just how many times he’d practised it in the mirror before he had the balls to actually tell you. 

You didn’t understand, yet you knew all the same.

You were wearing his shirt when he told you. Still in his house. Still in the space you thought was yours too. And all you could think was: how many nights did he lie next to you like nothing was wrong? How many times did he touch you with hands that had already betrayed you?

He never told you when, or who. Just a sorry. A soft one. A useless one. And a vague promise that he’d do anything to fix it.

But there are some things sorry can’t fix.

You clear your throat, suddenly too aware of how loud your heartbeat feels in a room full of people who love you enough to hate him.

“Because we’re not in cahoots,” you correct. “We’re friends, Yej. Him and I have always been friends.”

It’s not a lie. Not exactly. 

You have been friends with Hyuck ever since he moved in next door to your family when you were six. And even then—when you climbed trees and shared crayons—you think your heart was already beating for him. So much you don’t know what life is without that pulse anymore. Without a hint of him running beneath your skin.

It’s why you plaster on a smile and say, “In fact, I even invited him to my birthday party next week.”

They look at you, eyes full of pity and sympathy. And that hurts way more than him breaking you ever did. Because now your friends are staring at you like you’re some sad, shattered, pathetic thing he left behind.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lia asks weakly. 

“You’re seriously a lunatic,” Yeji cuts in before you can respond. “You’re just dragging this out for yourself. Death by a thousand cuts and all that.”

“I am not a lunatic,” you say, shrugging her off. “It’s just... he’s still part of my life. It’s not like I’m inviting a stranger.”

“He fucked up your life,” she huffs, the words stinging. “He hurt you.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “But I love him anyway, don’t I?”

And you do. Because some loves don’t end—they just rearrange themselves. 

Yeji yanks her chair back so hard the legs screech against the floor.

“He’s gonna hurt you again,” she spits. “How many times are you gonna let him rip you apart before there’s nothing left? Before you’ve sacrificed yourself and everyone else around you and you’ve got nothing left to give?”

You want to say something, but the words get stuck, because she’s right.

Lia reaches out, “Yeji—”

“If he’s there next week, Y/N,” she says, eyes burning over her shoulder looking from you to Lia, “then I won’t be.”

When Hyuck got a DM from the only girl he’s ever loved—two days ago, now—he sobered.

Which, if you asked Mark, was some kind of divine miracle. Because Mark had been watching his best friend drink himself into oblivion for the better part of a year. A slow, intentional kind of fucked up that was clearly a desperate, pathetic attempt to forget you.

But no shot, no spirit, no stranger’s skin pressed to his could ever do the trick. Not really. Because no matter how hard Hyuck tried, the hangover was always the same: he’d wake up, and you still weren’t his girl.

So when he saw your username light up his phone, he paused. 

Because the preview didn’t give anything away. It did that annoying thing that said “2 new messages.” No hint. No breadcrumb. Just a loaded gun of a notification staring up at him.

And, of course he clicked it. He had to. You knew he would. You’d sent two back-to-back messages on purpose—he’s certain of it. Because that’s exactly the kind of person you were. Always two steps ahead. Always orchestrating even your vulnerability. 

You wanted to see when he’d read it. 

And he did.

At 2:36 a.m. Because you’d definitely be asleep by then. And that meant he had enough time to draft the right response—measured, brisk, detached—like the past year hadn’t cracked him open.

He read it in the half-light of Mark’s living room, surrounded by people he didn’t really like and a bottle of something he couldn’t quite remember picking up.

hey. i’m having a thing next friday for my birthday—just a chill party. nothing major. 

you can come, if you want.

Hyuck stares at the two messages.

It’s not because of the party. He couldn’t care less about the cake or the candles. That’s not what has his heart in his throat. It’s the fact that—for the first time in a year—you actually reached out. None of that accidentally bumping into each other nonsense you two pull. No one buys that it’s an accident. 

At least, it’s not an accident on his behalf.

It’s not an accident when he keeps frequenting the same coffee shop you once claimed made the best lattes in the city—always at the same time. It’s not a coincidence when he drives through your favourite places on rainy days, just in case you need a ride and are too proud to just call him. And it’s definitely not a coincidence that makes him take the long way to your house. He does it deliberately. He selfishly takes more of your time than he deserves.

Because saying goodbye wasn’t an option for him. Not until it had to be. He’d take prolonged suffering. Death by a thousand cuts.

And it’s not his fault. Well. It is. All of the ruin, anyway. But in the twelve months since he blew it all up, you’ve still lingered. You always do. You always will. So he just keeps showing up in your life when he knows you need to move on. Because he doesn’t want you to. 

Because everything in his life is still half-yours. And he won’t board up the windows of that love—not even now. Not when some part of you still flickers inside it, and half of his heart is still in your chest.

Hyuck stares at your message again. He types something. Deletes it. Types something else. Deletes that too.

what kind of thing is it?

Too uninterested.

who’s gonna be there?

Too nosy.

sure, if you want me there.

Too honest. 

Everything felt like a trap—too much, too little, not enough to win you back, but equally too honest and would remind you of his actions that hurt you. 

How was he supposed to respond to the girl who once memorised every mole on his face? Who was the muse of every song he’s written? Who still makes his hands shake on the keyboard? Who he cheated on? Who he destroyed completely? 

Eventually he landed on:

might swing by, angel. happy early birthday, btw.

He hit send before he could change his mind.

11:27PM

Thirty-three minutes left of your birthday, but you’re not celebrating.

Instead, you’re sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with one leg dangling, the other tucked beneath you, whilst your dress wrinkles and bunches around your thighs because you stopped caring how ruined you looked an hour ago.  

You don’t care that your lipstick is all but gone or that your mascara is smudged under both eyes. You don’t care because he’s not here. 

You were supposed to be smiling by now. 

But he didn’t walk in. 

He still hasn’t.

And you don’t even know why you’re surprised. He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your baby. He’s not your Hyuck anymore. He doesn’t owe you a goddamn thing—not a happy birthday, or his time. You gave that privilege up the night you stopped being his. Or maybe the night he stopped being yours. You still haven’t decided which one came first.

Still, you hoped he would come. 

It was the only thing keeping you remotely sane—delusional hope that he might still show up. That maybe he’d walk through the door like he hadn’t betrayed you and still want you. You still wanted him. 

You hated that he broke you and still got to keep the pieces. Hated that even now, on your birthday, all you could think about was him. Hated that you still wanted his birthdays, his weekends, his forever. 

You take another drink. Cheaper vodka this time, and let it burn your throat as it goes down. You want the sting. You deserve the sting. Your eyes drift (again) to the front door.

Still nothing.

“You need to stop doing that,” Lia pads barefoot into the kitchen, coming right behind you to smack both her hands on your shoulders. “Stop watching that door like a hawk. Yeji would kill you if she saw you pining after him on your birthday.”

You press your lips together and glance away like you’ve been caught red-handed. Because, well. You have.

“Yeah, well. Yeji isn’t here,” you mutter, taking another sip—longer this time. 

Lia raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

You drain the last of your drink and look her straight in the eye. “Because I invited him.”

Lia looks at you expectantly. You know she hates being caught between you and Yeji, but it’s clear she thinks you were wrong to invite Hyuck tonight, knowing full well how Yeji would react.

And maybe she’s right.

That’s why you sigh.

“Look, he said he might come,” you say finally. “He didn’t promise anything. Yeji was overreacting.”

“He never promises,” Lia says gently. “And yet, you keep prioritising him like he’s still that sweet boy we both used to love, who used to buy your favourite cookies before class, or pick fights with the boys who made fun of you. But he’s not that boy anymore, Y/N. And he’s not yours anymore either.”

You flinch.

She notices. Regrets it. “Sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

But it isn’t, not really. Because this is the first birthday he’s missed since you were kids. Since you were eleven and he showed up with a homemade card. 

It’s not fine because his absence would say something that the cheating weirdly never quite did—that he’s not the boy you fell in love with. Maybe he hasn’t been for a long time.

Lia leans against the counter beside you. “It’s allowed, you know? Being hurt.”

“I don’t get to be,” you reply, glancing at her. “He doesn’t owe me anything anymore. I was the one who didn’t want to forgive him that night. I said I was done. I don’t expect him to grovel forever.”

“No,” she agrees. “But you deserved something. More than a half-assed apology at least.”

That lands in your chest harshly. You press your tongue to your cheek, the way you do when you’re trying not to cry. You’re not drunk enough to cry yet. Give it another hour.

“Come on,” Lia sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into her side, “I’m not letting you stay in here staring at that door and giving him the power to ruin the rest of your birthday.” 

But even as she says it, your eyes flicker to that door again—still no him.

Lia doesn’t let go of your hand as she leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room, where people are scattered across the sofas and floors. They all feel like strangers at your own party because you’ve spent the whole night looking for one person who never came. 

“Y/N,” Lia says, squeezing your hand, “this is Hyunjae.”

You blink. The boy in front of you is pretty. Dark eyes, strong jaw softened by the curve of a perfect smile, black hair pushed back sexily. He’s holding a drink loosely in his hand as his eyes sweep over you. 

“Happy birthday,” he says. “You look—”

Please don’t say beautiful. Please don’t say gorgeous. Please don’t say anything he would’ve said.

“—pretty,” Hyunjae finishes. “Really fucking pretty.”

You smile. Or try to. “Thanks.”

And look, it’s not that Hyunjae isn’t nice—he is. You can already hear Yeji telling you to give him a chance. He’s the kind of boy who’d text back, who’s safe, who’d never leave you staring at a door wondering if he’ll show up on your birthday or not. Hyunjae is the kind of boy who wouldn’t cheat on you. 

But the truth is, you don’t know if you can be the girl who lets someone call her pretty and fawn anymore. Not without wondering if they’ll still mean it once they see someone better, shinier, hotter than you. 

Just like he did. 

You nod along when Hyunjae talks. You laugh where you’re supposed to. Play nice. Be sweet. But everything he says sounds like static. Everything he is feels like a placeholder. 

And then, you hear it. That deep, honey-smooth, familiar voice saying: “Happy birthday, angel.”

It slices through the room. Through you.

Because there’s only one person who ever called you that. One boy. Lee Donghyuck.

You didn’t even hear the front door open. Typical. But there he is, leaning in the doorway, all tan skin and messy hair. His hands are buried in his pockets, his jaw set tight—too tight, like he’s seconds from grinding his teeth into dust. 

But it’s not you he’s looking at. It’s Hyunjae. Sitting far too close. Arm tossed lazily behind you on the couch, thigh pointing into yours, almost grazing like he owns your space. 

And Hyuck notices. You know he notices.

His eyes narrow. Lips parting slightly as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You know that look. You’ve seen it before. That blend of heat and hurt and possessiveness he has no right to anymore.

It hits your chest all at once—shame, hurt, lust—and you fumble. Your hand twitches with the red plastic cup still clutched tight. The drink tilts before you even realise it’s slipping. Cranberry vodka sloshes, causing sticky, cold liquid to spill down the front of your dress, dripping into the neckline. 

“Fuck—” you hiss, jerking upright as the cup lands onto the coffee table. You paw uselessly at the now soaked fabric, trying to blot it with the hem of your sleeve, but it’s only smearing it worse.

Hyunjae starts to reach for a napkin, concerned. But your eyes have already found Hyuck’s again. And the way he’s looking at you now…

Your throat goes dry. “I—I’m gonna go change.”

You don’t wait for a reply. You’re moving before anyone can stop you, heart hammering against your ribs because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

You barely make it up the stairs, breath coming fast, fingers trembling as you reach for the door to your room. You close it. But you don’t get the chance to lock it. Because the door creaks again behind you. And then it clicks shut. You spin around. And there he is.

You don’t say anything at first. 

Just stalk over to your wardrobe like it’s perfectly sane to have your ex-boyfriend—your ex-best friend, the boy you used to see every single day, the only boy you’ve ever slept with, the only person who knows all the tells on your body, the boy you still love—in your bedroom for the first time in over a year.

You wrench the closet door open. A pair of heels fall out and land with a little thud. You don’t flinch. You pretend to rifle through hangers, but you’re not looking for anything specific. All of it is just something to do with your hands, because looking at him right now would be a sick kind of torture.

“What are you doing here!?”

Hyuck doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, you only hear the soft thud of his shoes on your floor, the creak of your floorboard by the dresser. He’s closer than you want him to be.

“You invited me,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You spin around. “I invited you to my birthday party. Which started five hours ago.”

He lifts his phone, the screen glowing in the dark. “As far as I’m aware,” he says, tapping it once, “you’ve still got thirteen minutes left. So again, happy birthday, angel.”

You stiffen. 

There it is. That.

That fucking word. The one that used to make you feel warm and wanted. Now it feels like an insult wrapped in silk.

“Don’t call me that.”

That stops him. Just for a second. Then, slowly, he lowers the phone. Shoves it back into his pocket.

“I thought you liked it when I called you that.”

“I used to like it,” you spit. “Back when it meant something. You know, before you fucked someone else behind my back.”

His jaw tightens. Good, you think. The truth hurts; you hope it hurts. And maybe that makes you cruel. But then again, he was cruel first.

He rubs his jaw, then exhales. “We’re really doing this now?”

You laugh dryly. “Oh, sorry. Would you prefer we pencil it in for next week instead? Talk about it over brunch sometime, yeah?”

You turn back to your wardrobe, suddenly too irritated. Your fingers find the old grey hoodie you always loved. It looks soft. Comfortable. Definitely not party appropriate. But you don’t care because you don’t want to go back out there. Not after this.

You peel your dress off in one motion, leaving you in the black lace set you picked out this morning—because it was your birthday. Not for anyone else. Not for a boy. Certainly not for him.

Him. 

You forget for a moment that he’s still behind you.

It’s like your brain short-circuits in his presence. Like it still confuses this boy for the lifeline he used to be. Like your heart can’t shout loud enough to warn you: this boy broke us, this boy hurt us, this boy is bad for us. All it says is: this boy is Hyuck. This boy is sweet. This boy—we love.

You only remember when you hear him inhale—sharply—and turn around. 

He’s looking at you like that again. Like he did back when he loved you, and you loved him, and he hadn’t ruined everything yet. He looks hungry, and like the only thing that might satisfy him is you. 

That thought makes you clutch the hoodie to your chest. “Turn around!”

He does. Obediently. But then: 

"So, did you wear that for me?"

His voice is so annoyingly smug it makes you roll your eyes as you reply. “No.”

But your cheeks betray you. Hot. Guilty. Flushed. Thank god his back is still to you, because if he turned around now and looked at you, he’d know. Because he knows all your tells. Always has.

And from just a simple flush, he’d know that yes, you wore this set for him. That yes, despite pretending you were over him in his Instagram comments, your traitorous heart had hoped that he might come tonight and rip the set off of you.

And just in case he caught your second tell (the tremor in your voice), you twist the knife a little more.

“I wore this set for Hyunjae, actually.”

A silence. Then the fucker starts laughing.

Not a little laugh. A full-bodied, head thrown back, belly laugh. You hate how much you’ve missed that sound, how it still makes your stomach flip. 

“Five minutes ago, I might’ve believed that, angel,” he says, turning slightly. Just enough for you to catch the outline of his grin. “And it would’ve driven me fucking crazy.”

Your heart stutters when he nods toward your chest.

“But I wasn’t talking about your underwear,” he says, eyes dipping lower. 

You follow his gaze down to the delicate gold chain resting just above the swell of your breasts. The one with the tiny heart pendant. The one with the H engraving. 

“I was talking about that necklace. The one I bought you for your sixteenth birthday,” He cocks his head. Smirking now. “Did you wear it for me?”

Your fingers fly to it instinctively. You hadn’t taken it off. Not even after finding out. You always wore it underneath your clothes, tucked away like a secret, because Yeji would have a field day if she knew you still wore his necklace.

But in the heat of the moment, stripping down to your underwear, your brain hadn’t realised that he’d see it again. 

“I thought I told you to turn around,” you snap, furious with yourself.

He lifts his hands defensively. “I am turned around.”

“I meant your head, not just your body, Hyuck.”

And so he does, again. Obediently.

You pull the hoodie on. It swallows you immediately. The sleeves dangle past your hands, the hem skims your thighs, and it smells like dust and weirdly like…the boy behind you.

“I’m decent,” you mutter.

He turns around, eyes flicking down before he smiles. Not smug, this time. Just soft and… a little sad?

“That’s mine.”

You roll your eyes, tugging at the sleeves. “No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is. It’s massive on you. And unless you’ve got a secret stash of men’s hoodies in your closet, that one’s mine.”

You glare. “Oh yeah? And who says I don’t have a collection of men’s hoodies in my closet?”

“I do.”

 So fast. So sure.

You scoff, a single sharp laugh. “God, you think so highly of yourself.”

He crosses his arms—all tensed jaw and too-tight t-shirt—and it’s irritating, how stupidly good he looks whilst being smug.

“Yeah,” he says, deadpan. “I do. Because, despite us being broken up, you still wear my necklace.”  He nods toward your nightstand.  “You still have a photo of us beside your bed.” And then, one step closer. “And you fucking invited me here tonight.”

You lift your chin. “I invited everyone. It was a mass text.”

“Funny,” he says, a fake smile forming, “Mark didn’t get a text.”

“Aww,” you coo, mocking. “You still talk to your friends about me, Hyuck? Christ. Now I’m gonna start thinking highly of myself.”

“You should.”

For some reason, those two simple words hit you like a slap across the face. Because no.

“You don’t get to do that!” you snap at him. “You don’t get to tell me I should think highly of myself when you’re the exact reason I can’t even imagine the top anymore, Hyuck!” You laugh bitterly. “I don’t know my worth because you had me. But you wanted something else.”

And in that moment—maybe it’s your tone, or maybe it’s accountability—a flash of hurt crosses his face, that makes him wince. 

“Y/N, angel…” His voice cracks a little on your name, as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck! It was one mistake. You don’t understand—”

But you don’t want to hear it. You’ve already heard it.

You hold up a hand, stopping him from wasting his breath. “I don’t want to understand anything about the night you decided to fuck another girl, thank you very much, Hyuck.”

“Of course, I get that but—”

“But?”  you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Yes, but, Y/N,” he fires back. “Because I don’t know what you want from me. You say you don’t want to forgive me—and I get it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He’s pacing now. “But you string me along. You comment on my posts, you let me drive you home, you still have my fucking hoodies—”

His eyes flick down to the one you’re wearing now, oversized and drooping around the neckline to show that gold chain. 

“—you wear my initials around your neck, and you asked me to come tonight—you. And now you’re mad that I’m here?”

His voice rises and you swallow—hard. Like maybe if you keep swallowing, you’ll stop the tears from climbing all the way up your throat. Because it’s all too raw. All of it. Him. You.This.

He’s unraveling in front of you. And even though you know—deep in your bones—that he doesn’t have the right to be this angry, a part of you gets it. Because this awful, splintered, aching love you have for him is confusing. It’s contradictory. It fucks with your brain so much that it doesn’t matter that you’re hurting because he’s hurting too. 

And that’s all you can focus on.

It’s like you said:  nobody gets you and Hyuck. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, angel,” he says again, quieter this time. He takes a slow step forward. Close enough to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, like he used to.

His hand lingers.

“I don’t know what you want,” he breathes, “but if you tell me—I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath stutters. Your throat tightens.

And then, so quiet you almost miss it: “Because. I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes. You don’t want to. You don’t even mean to. But those three words wrap around you tight. 

“Don’t,” your voice cracks. “Don’t say that to me, Hyuck. Not after everything.”

When you open your eyes again, they’re full of tears. Angry ones. Bitter ones. Hopeful ones too—because you’re weak, and stupid, and still a little bit in love with a boy who shattered you.

“I mean it,” he says instantly. His hand twitches at his side—you see it. He wants to touch you. Wants to wipe your tears like he used to because he hates them. But he doesn’t know if he has permission anymore. (He does, but he doesn’t know he does.)

“I’ve always meant it.”

“Then why’d you throw it all away?” You spit the words out like poison. “Why did you ruin us for a quick fuck?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes, stepping back. “But I do know I hurt you. And I’ll hate myself for that forever. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

You laugh. But it sounds more like a sob. “You have a funny way of showing love.”

“I know.”

“You know everything,” you say, “except why you did it.”

A beat passes. Two. Three.

“You should go,” you whisper. “The party’s over. You’ve said what you needed to say. And I thought I could do this but I can’t.”

“No.”

Your eyes fly to his. He’s shaking his head, tongue in his cheek again as he sniffs.

“No,” he says again “I’m not leaving us like this.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Liar.”

“Hyuck—”

“You want me to say it again?” he asks, voice rising just slightly. Not angry. Only desperate. “You want me to beg? Fine. I will. I’ll fucking get on my knees if that’s what it takes.”

And then, to your absolute horror, he does. 

“Hyuck, stop—”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry for everything. For all of it. For her. For the lies. For shattering everything good we ever had. But I love you, Y/N. And I’m not sorry for that. I’ll never be sorry for that.”

You’re trying to stay angry. Trying to hold onto the rage but it’s slipping. Because you want him. You love him.

He’s still on his knees. Still looking up at you. Still pleading. You wish he’d just stand up. You wish he didn’t look so much like the boy you fell in love with instead of the man who broke you.

“Please,” he says again.“I know I don’t get to ask. But I’m asking anyway. I’m asking because I love you. I never stopped. I swear to God, I never—”

“Stop it,” you say, too fast.

It feels like your chest caves in. Because the thing about love is: it’s loud. Louder than hurt. Especially right now. You love him so much you could scream. But instead, you drop down to your knees. Right there in front of him. And before you know it, your hands are reaching for him. Stupid, traitorous things.

“Stop,” you whisper. “Please, stop.”

But he doesn’t.

Of course he doesn’t.

Because he’s Hyuck. And Hyuck never knows when to shut up.

“I know I ruined it,” he’s saying. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I wouldn’t forgive me either. I wouldn’t. But I can’t stop loving you. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried so hard. I’ve kissed girls who weren’t you and I’ve gone home wanting to claw off my own skin.”

You suck in a breath.

“You don’t have to forgive me now. Or ever. Just let me prove it. Let me try. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for you for fucking ever, I swear—”

You’re kissing him. 

You have no idea why, but it just feels like you have to. Because you physically can’t not. Because the love of your life, him, is bleeding out in front of you and you’re the only one who knows how to stop it.

And when your mouth crahses into his, it tastes like heartbreak and history and every stupid, selfish thing he’s ever done. But you keep kissing him. Because just as much as it hurts—it feels like home. Like you’ve finally been returned to the place you belong. Like his lips have been waiting for yours all this time. 

He’s kissing you back just as fiercely. Like he might die if he doesn’t. And maybe he would. Maybe you would too.

You don’t know who moves first. You think it’s you, but maybe it’s him. You’re both equally desperate—lunging backward until his back knocks against the foot of your bedframe and you’re straddling his hips. 

His hands find your waist, landing heavy and possessive around you. But you don’t mind, because your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan into your mouth—and God, you missed that sound. Missed him like oxygen.

His mouth moves to your neck, lips skimming every slither of skin he can reach, greedily not wanting to miss a single piece of you since he’s trying to make up for all the parts he used to take for granted. And you tilt your head back, giving him that access, because you’ve never been able to deny him anything.

“Tell me you’re still mine,” he breathes against your skin, half-choked.

You should tell him no. Should tell him he doesn’t get to ask things like that—not when he gave himself away so easily. Not now when he’ll never solely be yours like you’re solely his. 

But your heart is so tired and so in love it’s ridiculous, so instead you whisper: “I never stopped being yours.”

And then he’s kissing you again—deeper, this time. Until he pulls away and his forehead presses to yours, and he pants against your lips. “Let me love you,” he begs. “Please. Let me love you right this time.”

He feels solid beneath you. It’s making your brain fuzzy. It’s making you whimper.

“Okay,” you pant, tugging harder at those soft brown strands, as your hips shift and grind down against him, making him groan lowly. 

His hands clamp tighter around your waist, dragging you down harder, closer, like he’s trying to fuse you to him. And suddenly your skin feels too tight. You’re too aware of the clothes between you—what little there is.

Because you didn’t put on pants. Just that hoodie of his over your pathetic pair of black panties—thin, useless fabric—and now your pussy is rubbing right up against the thick outline of him through his jeans, and it’s overwhelming. You can feel absolutely everything you’ve missed.

Heat blooms in your stomach and you roll your hips again. It’s so shameless. So needy. But you don’t care. Not when it’s been this long. Not when it’s his fault it’s been this long—because you never would’ve let it be anyone else.

And he meets you in it. Each grind matched with one of his own, more harsh than the last. Until his hips are moving on impulse, chasing you like a man starved. His head drops to your shoulder, and his breath stutters. 

“Fuck, angel, slow down,” he chokes, “You’re killing me.”

You press your lips to his temple, to his jaw, anywhere you can reach, and whisper, breathless, “You deserve it.”

He groans—louder this time—like he agrees.

His hands slide beneath your hoodie, fingers splayed wide, dragging up the warm skin of your back like he’s relearning it. 

“I can’t believe this is happening again,” he breathes into your neck. “You can’t be real.”

But you are. You’re right here. Straddling him. Shaking for him. Letting him touch you like he never stopped having the right to.

He kisses your collarbone. Then lower—your sternum, the tops of your breasts, the edge of lace peeking from beneath his hoodie. His hoodie. That fact alone seems to snap something inside him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and then he’s pushing the fabric up and up and up, until it pools around your ribs and the cold air hits your bare stomach. You shiver. 

“Take it off,” he murmurs. “Please. Want to see you.”

You raise your arms, let him peel it over your head, and suddenly you’re half-naked in his lap—wearing nothing but that black set you wanted him to rip off, then didn’t, then did… and now, he is. Fingers working at the clasp, slipping the straps from your shoulders and tossing the bra aside in your room somewhere.

And then, he takes his time letting his eyes drag over you. Taking a sick pride in seeing his initial rest in the valley of your breast. 

“Jesus,” he whispers. “You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

And something about that word—still—makes your stomach twist.

Your arms fold over your boobs on instinct, shielding yourself from the one person you’ve always felt safest with. Because still means there’s someone else now. Someone he’s looked at. Someone he’s touched. Someone you had to beat—and somehow did.

But you shouldn’t have had to.

He notices the shift immediately—how your arms cross, how your body goes stiff, how the room, warm just a second ago, chills.

“Hey. Hey,” he says, brows furrowing. He cups your face, thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes. “Talk to me, angel. What’s wrong? What happened?”

You’re still straddling him, half-naked, kissed raw and dizzy, and yet you feel like you’re a million miles away. You try to speak, to explain, but the words choke you. How do you tell him something he’s never known? How do you make him understand? You’ve never done this to him before—and just knowing how much it hurts—you don’t think you ever could.

“I just—” your voice cracks. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

He flinches—just enough for you to know it landed. But he doesn’t pull away.

The thing is, he doesn’t say her name. Doesn’t even mention her. Never has. But she’s here. Right here. In this room. Your room. In the silence. In his presence.

He shakes his head like he’s trying to wipe the thought away. “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t think about her. This—” his hands cup your face tighter, gently desperate, “—this is you and me. Always you.”

Your jaw clenches, your eyes sting. “Then why wasn’t it only me?”

He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to your lips before flickering away. He doesn’t answer—of course he doesn’t. He never does. And that’s been half the war between you. He doesn’t want to tell you the why.

Instead, his hands drift from your face to your waist, pulling you in like proximity might somehow make up for his silence. Like touch could smother your insecurities. 

His breath ghosts over your skin as he leans in.“Forget her. Just for now. Right here, right now, it’s only you. Only us.”

You hate that you melt. Hate that the ache in your chest loosens its grip the second his hands coax your arms from where you’d folded them. Hate that even after everything, he still knows how to make you feel safe inside the wreckage he caused.

He’s infuriating.

“Let me show you,” he whispers. “That it’s always only been you for me.”

His hands skim up your sides, thumbs brushing delicately beneath your tits. His eyes never leave yours—not for a second—as he kneads and explores and feels your body in his palm. And then his mouth follows.

Lips warm, slightly chapped, close around your right nipple. Your breath punches out of you. You can’t help it because his tongue flicks once, then again, then again until your spine arches and pushes the bud further into his mouth.

“Hyuck,” you moan, helpless, feeling the curve of his smirk drag against your skin.

His free hand trails up your other side, rolling the neglected peak between calloused fingers so deliciously because he remembers exactly what used to make you fall apart, and now he’s hell-bent on proving he hasn’t forgotten.

“God, you’re fucking unreal,” he murmurs against your skin, then bites gently, just enough to make you gasp. 

His words make you ache. Everywhere. Especially between your legs, where you’re still pressed tight against the thick, unrelenting shape of him through his jeans. And he hasn’t even touched you there yet, but it’s coming—you know it is. 

His mouth keeps going, warm and wet whilst he stays sucking just hard enough to turn your bones to water. And whenever you whimper he groans. 

“Please, Hyuck,” you plead. “Need more.”

He lifts his head, murmuring, “Yeah? You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

You nod, dizzy. 

“Fuck,” he groans and wastes no time lifting you off the floor like it’s nothing, carrying you to your bed. He lays you down gently, spreads you out beneath him like something precious. And then he peels off his t-shirt.

That tan skin—scattered with moles you’ve memorised, counted, traced with your fingers and your mouth—is on full display, just for you.

“I’ll give you everything,” he says, voice low as he drops to his knees, crawling between your legs. “Absolutely everything. As long as you don’t regret this. Don’t regret me.”

Your fingers sink into his hair before you can think. “I won’t,” you whisper. “Couldn’t.”

And then he dips down.

His mouth finds the inside of your thigh, open-mouthed kisses dragging tantalisingly up your skin. He’s not rushing. He never does when he gives head. It’s his favourite thing to savour. You. On his tongue.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs, nipping at your skin, making you gasp. “How many times I’ve had to stop myself from texting. From begging you to take me back.”

“Who said anything about taking you back?” You say, hips shifting, dying for friction, but he pins them with strong hands, keeping you right where he wants you. 

“I did,” he says, a smirk ghosting over his lips. “Am I wrong, Y/N? Because if I am, we can stop right now?”

“No,” you whine on a trembling breath.

He smiles. “I didn’t think so.”

Then, finally, finally—his mouth finds the place you need him most.

He licks a slow stripe up your center, groaning from the taste of you in his mouth. He does it again, and then again, until your legs are trembling and one of your hands fists the sheets, the other tangled in his hair, pulling and tugging at it, just how he likes. Just how you like.

He flicks his tongue, circles it, moans when you cry out for more.

“God, you taste the same,” he says hoarsely. “Still fucking perfect.”

You try to respond, to say something, but then he sucks again, so hard, you almost shoot clean off the bed.

“Hyuck—please,” it’s half a sob, a half moan, one hundered percent completley ruined.

He growls, arms locking around your thighs to keep you still, mouth relentless as he licks and sucks and worships like this is his penance.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mutters between licks, “I missed how fucking responsive you are. Always so good for me.”

You whimper. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna,” he promises. “Not until you fall apart for me. Right here. Right now.”

He hums, the vibration making your stomach flutter, and you swear your heart forgets how to beat.

“Let me make you come,” he says, voice completely ruined now too. “Wanna feel you fall apart on my mouth. Please.”

And you do. You let him. Because you want this. Want him. Still. Always.

Your entire body coils, legs shaking, hands clawing at the sheets as your orgasm crashes through you. It’s shattering, making you cry out, his name falling from your lips repeatedly. 

Hyuck doesn’t stop. Not until your body finally slumps back to the mattress, boneless and trembling. Only then does he lift his head, lips wet and shiny. He crawls up your body, kissing your thigh, your stomach, the underside of your boobs, your jaw. Everywhere. Until he’s hovering over you, and you’re staring up at him, glassy-eyed and overwhelmed.

“You okay?” he whispers, brushing hair gently back from your face.

You nod, breath catching. “Yeah. I just... I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I never really left,” he says. “Even though I know I should have. I’m too damn selfish.”

Your throat tightens. You reach up, tracing his jaw with shaking fingers. “I want you to fuck me, Hyuck.”

He blinks, then his eyes darken. “You’re sure?”

You pull him down until your foreheads press again and then whisper a soft, “Yes.”

Then he kisses you. Slowly. Passionately in a way you know this about to be more than just fucking. It feels like the before. The soft. His hands coming up to your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Everything so tender and full of love. 

And somewhere between the kiss and the forgetting, his pants are off. His boxers too. He’s about to fuck you completely raw—like he used to—and for a moment, your body almost lets him. Because it remembers. The blind trust. 

But this isn’t then. And that’s why you reach out, fingers curling gently around his forearm. Stopping him.

“Condom,” you whisper, cheeks flushing as you glance toward the nightstand.

Because it shouldn’t have to be like this. Back then, you were on the pill. You were his. He was yours. There was no one else. But now? Now you’ve had to share him—with her. Maybe with others too. 

He freezes. And for a second, you swear he looks gutted. But then he nods.

Wordlessly, he reaches into your nightstand, gets one open and rolls it on his cock. He doesn’t protest. He never would. Because it’s not the condom that guts him—it’s what it means. It’s that reminder that everything’s different now. And why. A barrier he put there himself because he was reckless, drunk, stupid and ungrateful. A consequence he crafted with his own hands.

But he doesn’t let that thought linger too long. The past is the past—he hates thinking about it. It’s what wrecked him. What wrecked this. What wrecked you.

Now, all he wants is the present. Not even the future. Just this. Just you. Because you’re here. Beneath him. Asking him to fuck you. You’re his—if only for now. And that’s enough.

He slides back over you. And for a second—just one—you both just… look.

You’re looking at him like maybe this could fix it. He’s looking at you like he knows it won’t. Sex doesn’t fix anything. It’s what broke you two in the first place if you really think about it . But he’s still doing it. And so are you.

He pushes inside of you slowly and your breath stutters, nails digging crescent moons into his biceps.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, voice tight and thick. “You feel like—”

“Home,” you whisper, beating him to it.

Because you do. And he does. And it’s pathetic. And perfect. And completely going to destroy you in the morning.

His forehead drops to yours and he lets out a shaky breath, like the kind that comes right before someone starts to cry. But he doesn’t cry—he moves. Gently. Tenderly. 

You cling to him, every nerve alight, oversensitive in that desperate, raw way that makes you breathless beneath him—letting him kiss you through it, through the pain, through the slow, aching stretch of him inside you. 

And in between those kisses and the thrusts and the way your fingers tangle in his hair again, he whispers:

“Missed you.”

“God, I missed you.”

“I’ll never stop being sorry.”

He fucks you like he’s trying to put you back together with every snap of his hips. And maybe he is.

So you let him.

You let him fuck you until you’re both a mess of moans and apologies and, fractured I love yous. Until you’re panting in time with each other. Until you’re cumming—together.

After, it’s quiet.

Not awkward or bitter or biting, but comfortable. You’re tangled in each other, limbs overlapping, as Hyuck brushes his nose against your temple. Eventually, he slips out of you, careful to not hurt you, but you flinch at the loss. He presses a kiss to your forehead, one to each cheek, and then he’s moving—disposing of the condom, finding his way back to your side. 

“Let’s shower,” he murmurs, thumb storoking your jaw. “Let me take care of you first. And after… we’ll talk, yeah?”

You don’t say anything—because you can’t. Your throat is raw from all the moaning and the whimpering. And also because you’re scared of the talking. Terrified, really. Of the hurting that’ll come with addressing it. 

So instead, you swallow and say softly, “I’ll be a minute. Just... need a sec before I move.”

He pauses, like he’s checking you over again, brows pinching. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Not in the way he means.

“No,” you whisper. “Just… been out of the game for a while.”

He pauses but doesn’t argue. Just leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your cheek. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll start the shower.”

He slips out quietly, to the bathroom attached to your room. You hear the soft creak of the cabinets. He still remembers where everything is. 

And then—of course—his phone buzzes.

You glance over. You don’t mean to look. You really, really don’t. You know you shouldn’t if you wanna rebuild trust and whatever. It’s just…It’s on the floor, fallen from his jeans with the screen lighting up. 

It was taunting you. 

And anyway, he’s the one that broke your trust first. He’s the one that made you so paranoid. He’s the one who made you like this. 

Yeji

if i find out you went to that party tonight, hyuck, and didn’t tell her the truth, i will.

Your stomach drops straight through the mattress.

Another buzz.

Yeji

i’m serious. how long are you gonna keep it from her that it was lia you cheated on her with?

you’re ruining our friendship!

And suddenly you’re not warm anymore.

Suddenly you’re freezing. And hollow. And very, very awake and out of the afterglow sex haze. 

You can’t breathe.

You feel sick. 

Are you sick? Are you dying? Are you about to have a fucking panic attack?

Because it feels like something has clawed its way into your chest and is now eating you alive from the inside out.

Lia?

It all makes sense. It all echoes.

“That sweet boy we both used to love.”

“He’s not yours anymore.”

The door creaks again. Hyuck walks back in, towel slung low on his hips. Completely clueless. 

“You okay?” he asks, soft and smiling. “Shower’s warm.”

You don’t answer because your heart is hammering against your ribs and because you physically, viscerally, cannot breathe.

His smile falters, just a touch.

And then you say it.

One word. One name.

“Lia?”

You’re not even sure if you want to scream at him, or sob, or laugh—because how dare he. How dare he touch you like that, kiss you like that, look at you like that, when he knew—he fucking knew—he’d fucked your best friend and said nothing.

The same best friend who held you while you cried over him for a year. Who told you it wasn’t your fault. Who had her arms wrapped around you less than an hour ago trying to comfort you about him. 

You hold out his phone, pointing to the screen. “You fucked my best friend, Hyuck?”

He freezes. He lifts an arm reaching out towards you or towards his phone, you can’t tell. Probably the phone to see how much you know so he can spin it. Twist it. Try to manipulate this—manipulate you—again.

“Angel—”

“My name is Y/N.”

The words are a blade. His hand drops.

“Y/N,” he breathes, swallowing thickly, “it’s not what it looks like—”

But it is. You both know it. 

“Yeji seems to think it’s exactly what it sounds like.”

And then it hits you. All over again. Yeji knew. Your other best friend. She knew. 

Did everyone know? Everyone you loved? Everyone you trusted? Everyone you thought was safe? 

And suddenly your knees give out. You drop to the floor, spine hitting the edge of the bed on the way down, but you don’t even register the pain. You’re already somewhere else, hands trembling, vision blurry, gasping like there’s no oxygen. 

That fucking necklace around your neck—the one he gave you, the one you swore you'd never take off—isn’t fucking helping. So you rip it off. The chain snapping in your fist and you throw it. It lands at his feet. 

It’s the first time you’ve taken it off since you were sixteen.

“Y/N—”

Hyuck’s voice sounds panicked now. Hurting. He kneels in front of you, eyes wide, reaching for you—

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

You flinch so hard you nearly hit the nightstand. You can’t stand the idea of him touching you now, even though you know there isn’t a part of you he hasn’t touched.

He freezes. Arm stopping in the air. His face furrowed. And you know that face. The face from the night, the one carved from guilt and horror and regret—but it’s too late.

It’s so late.

You’re sobbing now. And it’s ugly—gasping and choking and curling up on the floor. 

“I—I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” he whispers. “I never wanted to hurt you—”

You laugh. Actually laugh.

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” You shake your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, spit and snot and mascara streaking your face.  “Hyuck, you fucked my best friend. And then you came here, tonight, and touched me like…like I was still yours.”

“You are—”

“No. No, I’m not!” You snap. “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely am not—and never will be—yours again.”

“Please, Y/N,” he whispers. “Let me explain. It wasn’t—”

“You’ve had time to explain.” Your voice trembles, but the words are steel. “I gave you so much of myself. So much trust. So much love.” You swallow hard. “But it wasn’t enough, was it? You needed to fuck my best friend. And keep it from me. And somehow rope the other one into it too, so now—”

Your voice cracks.

“So now I can’t trust anyone.”

He opens his mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to lie, maybe to beg. But then he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word. He just looks at you, regret written in every line of his stupid, beautiful face.

He doesn’t deny it. And that’s the last straw. You fold in on yourself. Arms wrapping tight around your knees as you bury your head and whisper: “I need you to leave.”

He doesn’t move.

You look up—eyes glassy, voice so quiet and weak.

“Get out, Hyuck. Now, please”

And this time, he listens. And you’re glad he listens. Because this time it feels different. This was it. The final fracture. Whatever you had with him? It’s dead now. You just wish you hadn’t kept it on life support for so long—wish you hadn’t clung so tightly to something already bleeding. 

That thousandth cut finally bled dry.

[voidzphere]

☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!

[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killersanz (sideblog) @dailykillerr (daily killer sans that i have not posted on yet erm) ]

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hii !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i love u too brutiee @mewobrute <33 (more stuff under the cut!!)

╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆

✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<

FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓

my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)

my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)

i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]

I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!

I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNER <333

some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !

i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3

some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !

some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !

✩ my tagz !

#killz art - my art !! :3

#killz rb - reblogz

#killz yapz - my yap sessionz

#killz answerz - answerz to my askz

#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz

#tag/ask game - self-explanatory

#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !

#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3

#killz srb - self reblogz

#killz sans - my sonaaa ^_^

✩ dni

basic dni criteria

istz + phobez

epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.

pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)

irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)

minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework

slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu

mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)

unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2

anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)

HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)

✩ byi + boundariez

i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.

i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.

im not a roleplay account btw /srs

my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3

DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you

if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!

my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !

i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).

just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.

im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.

i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3

i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.

i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)

i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.

my blog, my rulez <3

★ last updated: 12/5/24

[vind3miat0r]

Disabled Speaker hcs :3

sum headcanons for disabled!speakers that i thought i would share :3 (aka me realizing i have a horrible habit of keeping headcanons to myself 💀)

enjoy :3

hard of hearing and autistic David who didnt like wearing his hearing aids when he was a teen because they were uncomfy and everything was too loud and overstimulating. he eventually acclimated himself to them but some days doesnt wear them bc he knows it would be too much for him

Asher with an audio processing disorder (projection moment)

Milo loosing 50% of his sense of taste after stepping into the ward during the Inversion. he started packing spices into the food that he cooked so he could taste them again

more under the cut

Sam had Wilson’s Disease before he was turned (bonus hc that vampires’ bodies are forever caught in whatever state they were in when they got turned. example: if someone had gotten chemotherapy the day before they were turned, they would always have that lingering sense of fatigue afterwards. their disease never went away, it was just put on hold forever. so, Sam still has Wilson’s Disease, it was just caught at a time where it was under control)

Vincent has pain flareups + some numbness in his left arm due to it literally getting separated from his body during the accident (William managed to reattach it) (bonus hc: Vincent had asthma before he was turned :3)

Porter has panic disorder (Treasure has implored that he looks for a doctor or therapist that could help him, but he believes that he doesnt deserve the help 💔)

*projects my autism onto the entire DAMN Crew*

Caelum who isnt disabled but makes sure to research disabilities any of his charges have

autistic Gavin because i said so

Lasko having some sort of spine/leg injury related to his home life as a kid and having to use a cane/crutches as a result

Damien who had mild anxiety that spiked after the Inversion, and ended up getting a service dog

Huxley with sleep apnea because i said so‼️

uhh yeah thats abt it :3 lmk if i should make a part two :D

[wouldgaysexfixthem]

i don’t post ALL requests

only a fraction get posted

but i do what i can. here are some general guidelines to increase ur likelihood of getting ur pairing posted

latest updates in orange

REQUEST GUIDELINES

please don’t flood me with like 10 requests in a row, my inbox fills rly fast so u should b nice and let other ppl have a chance if u submitted a few already

ur pairing has to have interacted enough that there are actual photos of them together on the internet. this is a low bar but i physically cant do the poll if there’s no photos

while it’s a fun idea, i can’t do individual character requests bc my inbox will literally explode and die. so pairings of 2 or more only

i probably won’t do real life people UNLESS they are dead or they have joked about the gay rumours (ie maffleck) OR if i think its really funny and i want to make an exception (i am in charge)

no animated pairings under 18, no live action pairings with actors under 18

a few of you have submitted m/f pairings, and while i do respect ur grind, i probably won’t post those unless, again, i think it’s funny and i want to

i am a full time working adult and so i can’t heavily research the dynamic of every single request, so if you really do think i’ve posted a very troubling pairing then message me. but the point of the blog is toxic/troubled pairings, so these characters usually do bad things. and i am a horror fan so u rly gotta convince me

no book pairings (but if someone wants to make a version of this blog for book pairings u have my blessing. not that u need my blessing u can literally do whatever u want)

IF I DIDNT POST YOUR REQUEST IT COULD BE BECAUSE

ur pairing does not adhere to those guidelines ^

ur pairing honestly did not need fixing (i know this is ambiguous but try to understand the niche of the blog ok pookie)

ur pairing was from a fandom with a LOT of requests, so i’m spreading them out (yj, dr who, btvs, iwtv, star trek polls)

u submitted your pairing when i wasn’t taking requests

u weren’t specific enough and i had no idea what u were talking about

there are literally no photos of ur pairing on the internet (fan art doesn’t count)

your pairing was so deeply concerning to me that i couldnt bring myself to post it (rare)

twas a bit too niche and i have a family to feed with tumblr notes

it got lost, idk

this is my blog and i do what i want

if you really think a pairing deserves to be on this blog and it only doesnt follow the guidelines on a technicality (like alien ages being different from human ages), then u can submit the pairing but u must plead your case.

ok bye love u

[maxdibert]

I hate the excuse "Snape was only bullied bc he was into the dark arts and believed in blood purity" Nah man, most of the "hot" popular guys in my HS were racist as shit and watched liveleak execution videos on their phones in class and they sure as fuck didnt get bullied for being massive pieces of shit (or in any official trouble, "we cant do anything if you have no proof", fucking hell), but do you know who did get bullied and in trouble? The quiet "ugly" kids who were into innocuous stuff like anime or emo fashion and just wanted to be left alone. Getting bullied every day for no reason other than existing, and then getting punished when you finally break and lash out at the bullies once, while they get away with years of constant attacks on you and your friends.

I love Snape, because I see myself in him. Liking him tricked me into realising I didn't deserve what happened to me. I love all the people who stick up for his character, you're kind and understanding.

Love your blog, I've been going through reading all your posts and I couldn't help messaging, you write so well and it made me emotional. I hope you are well and have a wonderful day ❤️

That's a shitty excuse.

First, because canon doesn’t support it. Canon makes it very clear that James was the one who started the whole conflict. James, without anyone saying anything to him, approached Severus and mocked him for the first time on the Hogwarts Express during their first year. At that point, Severus hadn’t said anything about liking the Dark Arts, and James wasn’t born a Legilimens to magically know it. He simply thought he could butt into a conversation and make a shitty comment, and that was it. Canon also clearly establishes that when James stripped Severus in front of the whole school, it was because Sirius was bored, and his way of having fun was to corner “Snivellus” and publicly humiliate him. At no point are the Dark Arts mentioned. At no point is his association with Slytherins mentioned. The only one who brings it up is Lily, not James. This makes it very clear that James’s motive wasn’t ideological—he just enjoyed tormenting Severus because he liked having someone to take it out on. That’s it.

And second, that’s still not an excuse to torment someone in a position of inferiority. I’ve met plenty of people with garbage mindsets throughout my life, and I’ve never beaten them up for it—unless we were at a protest and they started getting violent. I have friends who were very popular in school, with leftist and combative mentalities, and it never crossed their minds to go after a marginalized kid, no matter how shitty their beliefs were, and publicly humiliate them. It’s ridiculous. Social justice isn’t about being a rich, spoiled brat abusing your social and economic power to pretend you care about people’s rights by using violence against someone who clearly can’t defend themselves or doesn’t have the same opportunities and tools you do. Social justice is about real actions with real impacts on society. So even if James’s excuse had been that—which it wasn’t—it would still have been just as wrong. And if anyone thinks otherwise, they’re either sociopaths or literal children who still don’t have hair on their legs and have no clue how the world works.

I wasn’t bullied in school, but I have met plenty of James Potter types throughout my life, and they’ve always disgusted me. White men, with money and resources, who think they can do and say whatever they want and treat people however they please. The ones who make “jokes” that aren’t jokes, the ones whose jokes have repulsive undertones. Guys I absolutely would punch in the face. Guys I’ve had to deal with all my life because, at the end of the day, they’re just gutless bags of shit.

Thanks for reading my blog. I’m glad it made you feel good. Big hug <3

[leynaeithnea]

I didnt get an ask for this BUT WE'RE BACK

my Wisdom saga reaction/analysis!!!!!

26. Legendary

TELEMACHUS MY BOYYYY

THE MELODY AT THE BEGINNING OF LEGENDARY IS SO COOL

the instruments aaah, lowkey obssessed

"its jus tme myself and i" perimedes would like u

"living in this world you left behind".........this song makes oyu think so much about what life has been in Ithica in those years since Odysseus had to leave, he was loved, he is *King*, AH

"dreaming of all these monster, that ill never to get to fight" better this way, u dont wanna end up like your daddy

"but boy i wish i could so i could bring the world some light" BABY BOY

"Cause I'm stuck with your stories, but no clue who you are And no idea if you're dead or just too far" his mother wouldve told him so many stories :aniTears:

"Somebody tell me, come and give me a sign if I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" PLS HE jusT WANTS TO FIND HIS DAD GIVE THIS MAN HIS FATHER

"If so, then give me sirens and a cyclops Give me giants and a hydra" hes just naming every monster he can think of of the myths he grew up with

"I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be legendary" U GO BOY; I LOVE YOU, also such a mood

"I'll fight the harpies and chimeras, the Minotaur, even Cerberus I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be l-l-l-l-legendary"....yea same like the two parts before, any monster he can think of, he gotta be one of us kids who read a lot

THEN The droppp in his voice, HE SOUNDS SO SCARED

"There are strangers in our halls" That must be TERRIFYING, just imagine that, dozens of men in your home just prying on your mother and youre too young to do anything rly

"Trying to win the heart of my mom, but she is standing tall" THAT VOCAL PERFORMANCE, W FOR PENELOPE; GIRLBOSS

"108 old faces of men who call me small" EW; 108 IS SO MANY BRO; SO MANY????? Also "old faces" ISJGSEIGJ "who call me small" boy, i feel so bad for you

"They keep taking space and it's not much longer we can stall" !!!! HES WORKING WITH HIS MOTHER TRYING TO HOLD THEM OFF; AH AAAAH, also fuck them, leave their home alone, god he must feel so unsafe in his own home :screams:

"'Cause they're getting impatient, dangerous too" oh no :( so scared lil boy

"And I would fight them if I was half as strong as you" HE LOOKS UP TO HIM SO MUCH AH

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?" HES ALSO A MOMMY BOY; AND HONESTLY GOOD FOR HIM; STAND BY HER SIDE; U GO BOY, 🥹

Chrous SLAPs

"Where is he? Where is the man who'll have you to wife? " bitch stay away (also cut song reference!)

"Where is he? Where is the man with whom you'll spend your life?" HE IS ON His WAY HOme SO STAY THE FUCK AWAYYYYYYYY ARGG ILL FIGHT U

"Cause it's been 20 years, 20 years" 20 FUCKING YEARS??? THATS AS OLD AS I AM (and telemachus for that measure, same age, yay!) BUT BRO IMAGINE WAITING FOR YOUR HUSBAND TO COME HOME FOR 20 YEARS; PENELOPE X ODY OTP; PENELOPE FIGHTING OFF 108 SUITORS FOR 20 YEARS AND ODY FIGHTING OF *GODS* Trying TO TRAP AND USE AND KEEP HIM, THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER

"And we still have no king" >:) >:) imagine an island without leader for 20 years oh boy h boy, the power vacuum, 108 people who want to take his place

"Give me a chance, a single opportunity and I'll overcome these obstacles and scrutiny and-" HE WANTS TO SO BADLY he juST DOESNT KNOW HOW AND WHEre TO START BC AH, also the music sounds like he just tries to sneak around his palace, to not get caught by the suitors, dodging and on guard, i can just imagine him ducking his head and looking at every corner for smth danger-

"Boy".......that slapped hard, FUCK YOU ANTINOUS (hi perimedes :) )

"When's your tramp of a mother gonna choose a new husband?" FUCK YOU STAY AWAY (the dELIVERY)

"OoooOOoh" we have a new choir! the crew is ded but we have the suitors now hah, ill take it, love me some choir responses

"Why don't you open her room so we can have fun with her?" THE AUDACITY? WHORE FUCKING BASTARD STAY THE FUCK AWAY

"Dont you dare, call my mother a tramp" U GO BOY; TELL HIM (be careful, dont get hurt) THE VOCAL DELIVERY OF THAT LINE IS SO gOOD

"OoooOOoh" chiorr

" I just did, Whatchu gonna do about it, champ?" FUCK OFF ANTINOUS, DONT BE SO SMUG FUCK U

"Somebody tell me, Come and give me a sign, If I fight this monster, Is it you I'll find?" u desrve your dad so much, he'll come home, promise...promise....hold on, be stronk, u got this boy, also "this monster" its none from your stories, no this is real, its worse its right infront of you AH

Sorry for the swearing :") AH I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH, ONE OF MY FAVS FOR SURE (...we'll come back after recency bias but i dont think itll change)

EDIT: DANGER MOTIF WHEN ANTINOUNS JOINS IN!!!!! (are there more? im new to this PLS TELL ME)

@lorethebookworm

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - June 25

@teasiswriter (x2), pg anon (x3), had to get it out anon (new), brag anon (new), depressive episode anon (new)

@teasiswriter

Welp, tomorrow marks the day I asked to start working in the applications for the jobs I applied to, and none got back to me.

I am officially unemployed for the summer

And I saw a dead rabbit today, so I guess that’s a worse omen :/

Sorry for being a Debbie-downer, thank you for reading

__

CAS I GOT AN EMAIL BACK

andddd then my parents told me that this specific store is one they have “reservations” about and aren’t fully sure if they want me to work there,

Uhm, yeah. I’m sad about that too, but I’m proud of myself at least? I tried and tried and at least someone reached out? Even if I have to say no

Agh I’m sorry for putting this on you

Feel free to ignore this and my previous ask.

You’re a rockstar, goodbye

Hi!

I'm so glad you got an email back! Honestly if you haven't said no yet, you should go for the interview, even if it's just for the experience of doing an interview.

I hope you keep getting more emails and good news, keep me updated!!!

____

pg anon

Hi! Okay so as far as your (ex)bf- I'm glad things ended up working out okay. But a mutual breakup is still hard, so remember to take care of yourself. Also keeping all of that to yourself is HARD, and talking about it is important. Can you talk about it with him at least a little?

Also as far as coming out- please do it in your own time. Whether or not you have supportive people, that needs to be something you're comfortable with. Don't push yourself <3

I'm glad your friends with cancer are doing well!

C - ugh I'm sorry his parents didn't react well. I've probably already asked this but what about school? Is there anyone at school who might be helpful. I really hate that this feels like it's all on you, you know? Even if you just rant to a teacher without telling them names...bc you're right, you deserve to be able to rely on people!

School - yeah I understand. Most education systems SUCK and it's an awful, claustrophobic feeling knowing it's almost impossible to change. I'm sorry that's happening to you right now <3

Films - that sounds so frustrating for you! I'm glad you have people around you that understand your boundary though <3 What about them gives you nightmares? Like could you maybe start with some really tame, g-rated movies and see if those feel safe, then work your way up? Just a suggestion, if you want to keep that boundary PLEASE don't feel obligated to push yourself.

anon names- oooo that's a good question. I think either option (telling them or just skipping) is good, depending on what feels best for both of you. I love that you're kind enough to think of their feelings like that though.

Your positives made me smile, I'm glad you had a good time at prom!

<3

___

had to get it out anon

he is just a man. how could he why would he. i trusted him. oh my god. i hate him. you know you hurt me and you didnt even say sorry. i was there for you when you were crying every night till 2 even though i cant stay up past midnight. i kissed you. you made me hate that too. god. why. this is the first time i cried because of you. my tears hold so many memories.

had to get it out

Hi hon <3 I'm so sorry about whatever happened, and whoever he is, he's an asshole. If you ever want to talk about it my inbox is open!

___

brag anon

cas have you ever done really well on something but didn’t want to tell your friends because it felt like bragging? that’s how I feel right now 😭 my old school offers an alumni scholarship for college students but they forgot to announce it this year. i remembered around the usual time and called, and they sent me the application directly. they always split the money based on how many apply, and i think barely anyone did because i got triple what i got last year. im really excited because i really needed the money, but I’m not telling anyone else so this is me getting it off my chest. i just don’t want to brag 😭

Hi!

well I don't think this is bragging! I think this is just you celebrating an awesome win! Congratulations, this is amazing!

I think you have every right to tell your friends, by the way! I think it just matters HOW you tell them. Just be like "By the way, I got a scholarship, I'm so excited!" rather than being like "Omg guys I got sooooooo much money, so much more than YOU, sucks for you bitches!"

But you deserve to be happy about this, it's great!

---

depressive episode anon

(Hi im a different anon but i sorta don’t want to mention this as my anon name I’m sorry)

I think I’m having a depressive episode and I’m not sure what to do, I’m disassociating and everything, even just the thought of going to bed is making me feel anxious

I feel so weird and lonely and terrified and my head feels like it’s fighting itself. I have nobody to tell

I’m not sure what to do

Hi <3

I think the first thing to do is talk to someone if you can. But since you said you don't feel comfortable telling anyone...

Take care of yourself. Prioritize the little things. Brush your teeth, wipe off your face, do things that make you feel safe like curling up in a cozy blanket. Drink water, and eat every once in a while.

And then think about who to talk to. Depression is the WORST, and you need support. Who can you reach out to? Who feels safe to you?

My inbox is always open as well <3

[maria-ruta]

are any of your ocs especially fashionable, and do any of them collect a certain object?

A great question! some of them are, but I feel like im having some troubles with it because im not very fasionable myself haha, or at least I only recently started to learn to be at least to some degree... baby steps X)

Sanya is pretty fashionable (tho i didnt post many drawings of them on tumblr, bc most drawings of them are ship art with my friend's @sandboxpyramid oc priest Daniel) Sanya has human form and demon form. They like to collect vintage clothing

Veronica, toreador vampire in VTM setting is also fashionable of course

tho she goes into several different dirrections since she puts on many faces/characters (like bimbo nurse/punk girl/sexy club chic etc)

Veronica has A LOT of different clothes and wigs and makeup... i am afraid places where she lives might look like thrift store sfdhfdh

she also likes to collect music - she has cassets, disks, vinyl. Obviously she also has players for those. She loves music, and when she wants to desociate she listens to her favorite songs (her toreador weakness trait is that she gets hypnotised by music she finds pretty, so if she wanna listen to her favorite album - shes gone, she cant turn it of by herself hahaha)

I haven't drawn ENOUGH of different fassionable outfits with Veronica, honestly she deserves MORE!!! (but i was getting severely depressed during our game, which was in 2022... i wonder what happened... so i didn't draw very much you know...)

Blueberry.. he is NOT that fashionable and didn't start as such

but i think he is on a path of getting MORE fashionable over time... and gets from strictly baggy dull clothing to something more interesting. Maybe he isnt super fashionable but i think he gets a hang of dressing cuter haha

the last one is a pinup i prommissed on twitr haha i wanna make him sluttier gdhgfjgf

Blueberry collects posters and sticks them on the wall of his cabin on his ship. He has posters of his favorite bands, his favorite anime, pin ups with different aliens of all possible genders (he's bi) and whatever random posters he just likes. I doubt any of them are made of paper, probably some more common kind of plastic ones, but who knows, what you can buy on some of the planets

I still wanna draw his wall of posters someday, but it is A Challange for sure, bc backgrounds isnt my strongest skill haha, but someday i will!

here is a little example doodle of what a piece of this poster wall might look like - with poster of predator and poster of some gay dude pinup, sticked together to look as if they having a good time

Thank you for your question!

[okifyouinsist]

tagged by @killerandhealerqueen (i just keep forgetting abt this one SIGH but i have free time rn and im committed)

1. why did you choose your url?

growing up, i just wasn't a social media girl purely bc of the fact that my parents were super strict and I assumed they wouldn't allow me to have it and I just never really saw the appeal anyways. Then later a few friends basically forced me to make my first account and because i wasn't very creative and thought i was the funniest bitch ever i made my first user 'ifyouinsist' and it just kinda stuck ig

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

nope. i fear if i had a sideblog id end up neglecting it and forget abt it or make it my new main blog and neglect this blog and this blog is literally my baby

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

well i've had an account since like end of 2019, beginning of 2020???? (im pretty sure) i didnt like use my account tho i just had it to look at other ppls blogs not my own, i only acc recently made up my blog up properly and started posting this year when it was like 2 am and i was on holiday to visit my home country and my mum and my aunts were gossiping and i was like whatever who tf cares how late i am to a fandom and the rest was history

4. do you have a queue tag?

nope, my drafts are a terrifying place and if they ever saw light id die

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

to reblog pretty art and to compliment writers on ao3 AND on tumblr bc they deserve everything and more

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

logan sargeant. need i say any more???? hes my bsf in spirit

7. why did you choose your header?

loscar. LOSCAR. loscar. i am very much totally normal abt them i swear (lying through my teeth rn). they're just my everything unfortunately and sometimes i like to say the fist bump is their version of intertwining their fingers together

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

ik this bc it was the first i myself made and it was abt loscar obviously and i thought i was SO funny (im not) and its lowk still such a flop post but its MY flop post so here it is :)

9. how many mutuals do you have?

idk man im shy (scared of rejection) so i dont have a lot, like genuinely let me go see acc, oh ig its me and my 14 moots against the world i love you guys fr

10. how many followers do you have?

BYE my 26 followers are my 4 lifers fr (im such a flop this is hilarious)

11. how many people do you follow?

37 (sigh need to follow more ppl RN)

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

im gonna be so real idk what defines as a shit post but most probably yeah

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

idk im acc really inconsistent like ill be MIA for 2 whole days and the next week ill be on tumblr like for most of my day when i can its very confusing like today ive not been on it a lot im academically locking in and all that

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

ummm no. like. if i see someone i follow getting hate ill send them a supportive ask and then at the end of it be like anon ur such a loser get a life but other than that. nope.

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

im very much neutral abt them, like idc if i need to reblog it yk if i want to i will if i dont then i wont

16. do you like tag games?

YES (said in a very normal voice)

17. do you like ask games

YES. i love getting asks id cry if someone sent an ask (i have one rotting away from a moot rn i WILL answer it i swear)

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

can i say all my moots. i wanna say all my moots they're all famous in my eyes guys, i start tagging its gonna end with all my moots being tagged but like @killerandhealerqueen and @dwarvenchords were the first 2 ppl to come to my mind theyre both just the coolest fr

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

nah. i have FRIEND crushes on literally all of them tho. wanna be their friends SO bad

20. what is the last song you listened to?

Mamichula- Bizarrap

21. what are you currently watching?

in my docuseries era rn watching breakpoint (STILL)(i only have time on the weekends rn SIGH)

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy?

sweet. im such a 'lets skip the dinner and just get dessert' kinda girl

23. what is your current relationship status?

this is SUCH a complicated question to answer but heavily leaning more towards single

24. what is your current obsession?

sports. like just sports in general. like ive always been a casual fan of sports but i never used to take a deep dive into it but this year i decided to dive, and i dived VERY deep, so like motorsports, tennis, football, cricket, trying to get into hocky rn im collecting them atp. also. documentaries. like when i get time ill be binge watching like 5 documentaries i just love them sm

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

wish i could tell you fr, i mean, rn im re listening to SOUR by Olivia Rodriguez AGAIN bc thats the way my life is going SIGH, Olivia is my favourite basic artist fr, nothing compares to listening to SOUR for the first time in 2021

ANYWAYS, thanks again for the tag i really appreciate it, im gonna tag @ezisregrettinglifedecisions @fabeong @whatssthepooiintt

[stupidrant]

you know, girls of color in media don't really get the chance to have complete character arcs, be fully realized love interests or able to be hold her own and vulnerable & soft, i'm so happy that our girl angrboda is getting so much love 🥺❤️ she deserves the princess treatmen and fully spoiled. i'm talking fluffy tulle gowns in a giant ballroom ala bridgerton being courted by a young man who looks weird in the face at first but he's actually very cool and nice!

When i first saw angrboda i was shocked like REALLY shocked since i had no prior knowledge of ragnarok coming out until like days after it came out. (Her design is immaculate imo) And then going through the game i became even more shocked and then the ending came and i was just like… WHAT? Her being his first or ONLY love interest wasnt even my first thought until like a month later bc i was quite in awe with the game in general and then it kinda hit me thats what was happening and i was like oh. OH. I was rooting for her and.. they was end game. You guys i was like wtf…

This is probably a little sensitive for me to say but i dont usually fret over representation too much anymore. The reason for it is bc honestly its very hit or miss and more misses than ever before. Alot of it feels like “here, damn” like just to do it to satiate people, mocking or a set up and its like ok. Whatever. I cannot force people to do smth they dont want to do and i think if you dont wanna do it then just dont tbh. But even when it is genuine or even good you dont see it being popular. I think of a few examples ofc but 9/10 they are either terrible characters, die later on or are flat out ignored (if they had no arc). The difference with angrboda shes none of that. They didnt even put her in a stereotypical place im genuinely shocked about that. I dont like her bc shes black but bc i actually like her. Her being black is just a plus for me and I dont project myself onto her because honestly if i do itll put me in a shit position and i dont really feel the need to do so anyways but i do appreciate everything abt her and i do recognize that they took their time with her and i applaud them for that. All of that just for her to end up being the most hated character. Lol. im always gonna be a little bitter about that. Again, I really hope sms continues on with her regardless of the hate bc they did it with atreus.

[1eos]

I used to hate TWICE in their Likey era, because I was an angsty “ non girly feminist” and I hated that a song was going “me likey” and thought it was reductive and infantile AND THEN in 2018(?) jihyos dating “scandal” came out and I actually found myself going Good For You Girl! And listened to Feel special and Ngl I was kinda hooked. Saw some interviews of them finally and realized they’re all like really smart elegant women and the hyperfeminine concept was just that, a sales concept that they excelled at. And that I was just like internalized misogyny-ing. Post Can’t Stop Me era I’m a once now I guess!

TLDR: I think I went through the same thing you went through with SNSD! I think it’s the “made for male gaze” instinctive criticism that comes with their initial impression and then you realize they’re actually pretty decent/good. It’s low key (for me at least) internalized misogyny and honestly once I checked that I also stopped hating “girly hyperfeminine” women! LET WOMEN LOVE PINK!!!!! WEAR THOSE SPARKLES!!!!!

In case either tumblr eats this, or it’s too long and you don’t respond, I hope you have a great week ahead and your coworker gets a life!

you know what? i am picking up what you're putting down. and you're so right bc i also bounced off twice when they first debuted but over time really fell in love with their sincerity and positivity on stage. bc in my late 10s early 20s i was learning to balance my burning need for more content that didn't center men since *i* refused to center them without going full on 'im not like other girls' and being so 'feminist' you circle back around to misogyny. especially if you like cute and/or feminine things bc society really will bombard you with the idea that to be feminine is to be lacking in content 😭😭😭😭😭 like im so sorry to the color pink for the 2-3 years where i pretended to hate youuuuuuuu

but yeah! even tho i didnt get gee in 2014 i see her appeal and i accept tiffany as the first woman president or whatever. and no one asked but the song that made me heel turn on twice and realllyyyyy fuck with them was signal 😭 i loved tt and that got me liking them but signal was my SHIT. i went from being like 'twice are whatever' to being ready to fight if someone even thought that signal didnt deserve soty!!!!!

[youremyheaven]

i'm a different anon but girl, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i had the same first time experience as you and i wholeheartedly agree w/ your advice. don't sleep w someone just to not be a virgin bc being one isn't even a bad thing & it's infinitely better than having to heal from such an intimate form of assault especially when it's the only sexual experience you know. personally i'm still healing from it & it seems like it will just last forever. if you don't mind me asking since i know it's a sensitive topic, is there anything in particular that has helped you heal? i'm sending you a lot of warmth & love ❤️🫂

hi love<3

thank you, i appreciate it <3 and im sending u the same love and healing✨

in some ways i am still healing from that experience even though it was almost a decade ago. more than the memory of it, its the physical and emotional repercussions it had on me that were challenging to navigate, for a long time after that i thought i was asexual, lost my libido, lost touch with my femininity and compounded by many other abusive experiences made me avoid the mirror entirely.

for me what truly changed my whole life was yoga and meditation. specifically yin yoga, women carry a lot of tension in their hips and practicing yin yoga (there are many yin yoga, hip release flow type guided videos on YT if you search for them!!) helped my body feel so loose and fluid and relaxed?? i didnt know how stressed my muscles were until i realized what true relaxation felt like. i remember those initial days of practice, i felt such a profound emotional release as well, like a weight was leaving my chest. relearning sensuality, feeling comfortable in embodying it and reframing sex and my perspective towards it has been a slow journey and some of it is easier than others. but i am doing sooo much better than i was before. meditation also really helped me feel more safe and comfortable in my body and not feel like i had to always be on the lookout for danger or assess other people's intentions. keep in mind, these are not things you can expect overnight changes from. you have to be patient and disciplined and just do it without any expectation. eventually it gets easier. also it keeps you more in tune with your body and intuition and helps with knowing what situations or people to avoid.

i have also been practicing tantric meditation and it has also helped me immensely but i think you should approach tantra after you've reached a point of healing and peace bc tantra can awaken some powerful energies and it can be a lot to handle.

taking care of myself has also helped me. its so funny how when i was struggling with my ed, body dysmorphia and numerous other issues, i did nothing to make myself feel good bc i didnt think i deserved it but by doing things (it can be as simple as applying lotion after a shower, whatever self care habits that make you feel good about yourself!!) that make me feel good, i feel good??? its like those people who say 'omg im so lazy i cant do the dishes' but the truth is you feel lazy bc you havent done the dishes so if you do the dishes you wont feel lazy. i hope this weird analogy makes sense lol. basically do things that feel good and you will feel good, it sounds really basic and almost stupid but i feel like most people wait until they've "earned" it or are "worthy" but the truth is doing it is what will make you feel like you deserve it, if u catch my drift.

anywaaayyys thats all, <333

[stargirlie25]

Ok scrolling through acotar tiktok KILLS ME. Its not the og tiktok with cool edits of ships that you prefer its just pure toxic hate.

Like me, you might have noticed there are few and few Gwynriel/elucien content then Elriel content. I don´t believe it is because they dont ship these ships anymore i think its because they are tired.

When i was neutral (about a year ago) on the ships wars, i would CONSTANTLY see Elriels being so confident about their ship and how acosf pointed to an elriel endgame. I had not read acosf by then and when i did+ the bc i didn´t hate elriel i just started to love Gwynriel.

Sometimes sarah likes to put positive factors on a ship, like something beautiful without there having to be a whole theory. Because sarah does not expect her readers to be theorists. She wants them to laugh,cry,giggle,scream. etc. So when she was writing the BC which according to elriels are not important she probably wanted us to look at Gwyn and Azriel and consider her obvious wording and differences between elriel and gwynriel. According to elriels the BC isnt important and does nothing to contribute into plots,but also it introduces Gwyns lightsinger powers? Whatever that is not even my point right now. My point is, at first glance at the BC everybody should be more positive towards Gwynriel. SJM put out a free bonus chapter. Why should something heavy like a characters powers be in there? Its supposed to be a light hearted thing. Im just tired of Elriels saying we are delusional or our ship is a crackship.

I never hated Elriel before. All the anti elriel stuff i have mentioned is everything i was already aware of before ´´hating´´ elain and az together. I was still neutral even with all those negavtives.

Its the fandom that made me turn around and choose Gwynriel. I noticed Gwynriel and Elucien content was much more surrounding pro content for their ship and cute headcanons,cannons,edits,fanarts etc. It rarely EVER mentioned anti Elriel information. Except the elriel content then and now, all revolves around Gwynriel and Elucien. Instead of promoting their ship, they have to tear down our ships and say we are crazy.

It was like: Elriel vs Gwynriel and it said that gwynriel was fanon and elriel was canon. Thats´ just false but i understand i cant change that which i dont mind but why scream about it to my face? I saw people bullying Gwyn and saying she was faking her trauma,lured in hyberns men or was evil for the sake to uplift elriel/elain. I saw people bully emerie too calling her a crippled fake illyrian and how it was stupid for emerie to win the blood rite against her cousin. Or how somehow emerie was a b*tch and does not deserve to be a valkyrie+ nesta and gwyn. I saw people make edits to uplift Elain and hate Gwyn. I witnessed people dismissing Luciens trauma and comparing him to his father. I saw people say he faked the bond to protect tamlin or what not. I saw people make up theories for Clotho saying she was odd because she said she was going to give Gwyn the necklace but probably didnt....

That was my last straw. So yes naturally i did in fact shift to the Gwynriel/elucien side. It was easier. Instead of the bullies i saw cute videos of ´´Azriel and Gwyn singing´´ or ´´Elain and lucien picking flowers´´ it was all just so lighthearted and beautiful.

Although i think the fandom for G/A and E/L decreased because they are tired. Because i was tired too. I did not even want to enter acotar tiktok because i knew we would all be bashed for it. Dont get me wrong i find myself sometimes leaving comments on Elriel videos. Not the ones with a cute edit or fanart the ones the share false information or something i disagree with. I only hope for a civil talk and next thing i know, there is a whole gang of elriels trying to push their narrative on me without listening.

Honestly the ship wars have always existed but before Elucien was the calmer side. Although sadly they got roped into the mess of the G/A vs, A/E wars. WIthout a doubt on every single Elucien video, elriels never miss a step. It would be a cute video like a fanart of them and they will start being like ´´ElAinS So UNComFOrtabLE aROUnd hiM´ like you guys ask us why we ship elucien when mentioning this but its like you dont even want an answer you just want to disagree. We tell you and you flat out ignore it.

As much as i love Gwynriel/Elucien i cant help but miss the days were reading ACOTAR was for all the characters. When it was just to see my favorites like Nesta. When i just desperately wanted to get to the iconic epic scenes.

I know if e/riel was confirmed, Elriels would firstly shove it in Eluciens and gwynriels faces and then maybe celebrate the characters.

I know Gwynriels/eluciens would too and i honestly want to see none of that. Yes i do believe we are getting Gwynriel/Elucien but i would not want to make people feel bad for their ship. They by all means can still love elriel. So many people like feylin,nesris,Aelin x chaol,aelin x dorain, and obviously aelin x sam (my endgame if rowan never existed) dramoine,klaroline,stelena,stiles x malia, Jelly,Bellarke,clexa,Rory x those 4 other guys etc etc.

Main point, Can we all just do better? Yes i am talking about elriels for my sake and lots of others peoples sakes but to everyone PLEASE.

I know that wont work though even if i say it because im only one human hahah

What im going to say is we should tag all our posts to our preferred ship and probably always put anti to the ship we dont like. That way everything is divided and less toxic. Also i will be tagging nothing to do with ship wars because i want everyone to see haha but please be nice!

This is just my experience btw im sure Elriels have has their fair treatment of toxic Gwynriels/Eluciens

[borathae]

Chapter 26

OMG TAE BABY BAY I AAAH STOOP KOOK JUNGKOOK SOTP

TAE NO U DONT DESERVE IT PLEASE U NEED TO BE AWAY FROM JOON THATS ALL U ARE BBETTER WITHOUT JIMIN(controlled) AND NAMJOON

HOLY FUCK YOONGI DADDY oh he stopped him with mind control? “never in my cursed life did I want to use this power again damn

OK NOW SAVE JIMIN MY BABY PLEASE I HATED HIM ALL THESE CHAPTERS ONLY TO LIKE HIM FOR 1 PARAGRAPH AND MF JUST DIES NAH UH WTF GET UR ASS UP NO U DONT GET TO DIE ON ME LIKE THAT

3000 YEARS??? BRO WTF wait dude is from the bc?? damn wtf omg i have so many stupid questions to ask him xd i will prepare a list and you can make yoongi answer

“You are one of them. The Creators, runs back to that old chapter hold on i just saw rippers have flesh dissolving acids in their gland that would make sense why kook's saliva burned her skin wait a sorcerer cursed some people and they are the creators?

STOP TALKING WHERE IS JAMAL NO NOT ASJH SHUT UP HE DIDNT

whats going on i cant handle shit wtf man this is hard why are my emotions actually emotioning on a book you are too good wow

wow he just casually broke his spine like a fucking twig my spine just shivered thank fucking you yoongi

Some are empty, but in some chained up corpses look back at you. um what the actual fuck? “Their eyes just moved!” you screech, stumbling back. “That’s because they are alive”, Yoongi answers dryly. WTF WTF ABORT MISSION WHAT THE FUCK GOES ON YALL THE POWER CHRIST COMPELS YOU ALLAHU AKBAR *calls all hindu gods and idk other gods damn i look like the girl hobi mentioned 😃

sibi are u ok my love? like is everything alright at home? do u get enough sleep? what are you eating? any nightmares?

yoongi wtf why are they being dehydrated like grapes? cant u idk do something else to them idk wtf

wow 7 people oof quite a lot, why cant he idk try more rehab-ish for them looks horrific, their actions are inhuman but it feels horrific knowing they will never get better and be able to leave

DAMN BABY I FUCKING LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO HOT MUAH dude could have just said he gave them chances cuz sorry it doesnt look cute enough to guess they got chances

“That was literally so badass what you just did. Girl I think I just got a boner, that was so hot”, Hoseok says. FR I GOT A LADY BONER

I’m a goddamn gluttonous Ripper I do this to redeem myself”, you mock his voice, PLS LAMO ISTG HE MUST HAVE HEARD IT AND DECIDED TO IGNORE IT HAHA

“Whatever, stop making sense and let us be angry”, you say. FR Hoseok lifts his hands, “I’m already quiet.” HAHA

“Don’t play knight in shining armour where you shouldn’t”, a dark voice cuts through the room. AAAAH WTF BYE HOBI IS RIGHT HE GIVES ME HEE JEE BIES

Hoseok and Seokjin hide behind you, wow every man for himself

WTF KOOK STILL CANT MOVE? YOONGI WHAT ARE U DOING LEAVE THE POOR BOY ALONE WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU ASSHOLE

“Princess wait”, he tries to grab for you, FUCK OFF

“Then at least I died trying.” queen for real

i get them cuz why would you want someone like him out in the streets and kill more emma/oc/victims

but they need to go after namjoon, after all if he is out, there will be more "jimin" and "taehyung"

TAE NO U DONT DESERVE IT PLEASE U NEED TO BE AWAY FROM JOON THATS ALL U ARE BBETTER WITHOUT JIMIN(controlled) AND NAMJOON

😭😭😭😭

HOLY FUCK YOONGI DADDY oh he stopped him with mind control? “never in my cursed life did I want to use this power again damn

lmaoaoo I love how you still find time to thirst jfadsj valid

OK NOW SAVE JIMIN MY BABY PLEASE I HATED HIM ALL THESE CHAPTERS ONLY TO LIKE HIM FOR 1 PARAGRAPH AND MF JUST DIES NAH UH WTF GET UR ASS UP NO U DONT GET TO DIE ON ME LIKE THAT

bestie...i might have news for you....

3000 YEARS??? BRO WTF wait dude is from the bc?? damn wtf omg i have so many stupid questions to ask him xd i will prepare a list and you can make yoongi answer

YES please do that <3 he'd pretend to hate it but would definitely take a lot of time to answer them <3

“You are one of them. The Creators, runs back to that old chapter hold on i just saw rippers have flesh dissolving acids in their gland that would make sense why kook's saliva burned her skin wait a sorcerer cursed some people and they are the creators?

I love watching people connect all the dots 😌

whats going on i cant handle shit wtf man this is hard why are my emotions actually emotioning on a book you are too good wow

*laughs in author*

wow he just casually broke his spine like a fucking twig my spine just shivered thank fucking you yoongi

like he is actually so scary if he wants to *sucks his dick*

*calls all hindu gods and idk other gods damn i look like the girl hobi mentioned 😃

lmaoaoao the fear is so valid fjasdjjf

sibi are u ok my love? like is everything alright at home? do u get enough sleep? what are you eating? any nightmares?

I am very fine actually 😃😃😃

yoongi wtf why are they being dehydrated like grapes? cant u idk do something else to them idk wtf

there will be answers to your question very soon 👀

DAMN BABY I FUCKING LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO HOT MUAH dude could have just said he gave them chances cuz sorry it doesnt look cute enough to guess they got chances

lmaoao babygirl changed her mind real fast (me)

“That was literally so badass what you just did. Girl I think I just got a boner, that was so hot”, Hoseok says. FR I GOT A LADY BONER

hahha love that for you and Hobi

I’m a goddamn gluttonous Ripper I do this to redeem myself”, you mock his voice, PLS LAMO ISTG HE MUST HAVE HEARD IT AND DECIDED TO IGNORE IT HAHA

oh 100%

“Don’t play knight in shining armour where you shouldn’t”, a dark voice cuts through the room. AAAAH WTF BYE HOBI IS RIGHT HE GIVES ME HEE JEE BIES

he is so scary *eats his ass*

Hoseok and Seokjin hide behind you, wow every man for himself

I HATE THEM 😭😭😭

WTF KOOK STILL CANT MOVE? YOONGI WHAT ARE U DOING LEAVE THE POOR BOY ALONE WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU ASSHOLE

LIKE SERIOUSLY LEAVE POOKIE ALONE 😡

“Princess wait”, he tries to grab for you, FUCK OFF

LIKE bro it's too late for that

but they need to go after namjoon, after all if he is out, there will be more "jimin" and "taehyung"

yes 100%

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey cas, i just need to rant

I'm crying rn and i need to tell someone this

Ok this is a stupid way to start this but my duolingos nit working. Fine not a big deal. I went and told my mom and she didnt even let me show it to her and told me to get my dad to help me bc she doesnt know how. So later when my dad was awake i told him the problem and she was there. My dad was trying to figure it out and she asked if she could see my phone. The thing is whenever she asks to see my phone to fix something i end up seeing something and realising i might know how to fix it so i ask if i can have it back to try the thing and sge always yells at me and rips my phone out of my hand and says i have no right to touch it because its not really my phone. So i asked her what she was going to do on it because i think I've tried everything and i don't think it's going to help especially if shes not the one talking to the support people (my dad was). She got mad and said to stop complaining and give her the phone i calmly explained what i just did hiw when she tries to help it isn't helpful and it always ends in fights because she never allows my input (very calmly like i was literally just explaining my thought process and why i think it would do more bad than good) she interuppted my yelling and said that if when people ask to help me and i just call them mean and whatever then people aren't going to want to happen (side note the difference is everyone else who offers me help i am allowed to say no and choose wether or not to explain why as well) and then said if i dont accept help graciously then i don't deserve anything. (I have bad mental health and she knows that to an extent) so now im crying

And i KNOW if i were to bring this up in the future she would say "i dont remember that. That didnt happen. Youre making that up"

Every time i try to communicate how im feeling and why i feel that some things she does or says may be hurtful and damaging she takes it as a personal attack. I've been trying to get better at communicating my needs and feeling but everytime i do she makes me feel like im doing something wrong.

Sometimes i get so overwhelmed I'll start crying out of nowhere or yell or something and she'll either say im being dramatic or literally laugh in my face.

Thank you and sorry for punctuation and spelling mistakes i probably made a ton

Hi!

I can relate to this SO much, omg. My mom is just like this, and it makes you feel so crazy, right?

Please know you have a right to your feelings and if you communicated the way you say you did, you did nothing wrong! Unfortunately it sounds like your mom has some things to work out about not taking things personally.

As someone who also deals with this, I have to say that sometimes picking your battles is key. While in a healthy relationship, sharing your feelings is super important, with a relationship like this, it could just make things worse. So a lot of times I just ask myself- 'is it worth the potential fallout?' sometimes, if it's something really hurtful, it is. But sometimes, I just let her make stupid decisions. SO like in this case, maybe next time you could give her your phone, let her realize she can't help, and then move on to whatever the next step is. Because she's probably not going to listen to you, you know?

It sucks to have to think like this, especially as the child in the relationship, but it might be reality.

Sending love! Naming you duolingo anon

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/739224380667772928/hi-j-can-i-talk-ab-smth-thats-making-me-sad?source=share

thank you🫶🏻. i read this reply earlier and it made me cry bc you’re the only one who actually cares. thanks for letting me talk. also this is long and i’m v sorry but i just wanted to share w someone. part of it gets deep but i swear u don’t have to reply to that part, i fr just wanna make one point ab guys fighting

i hate violence so much. the jokes ab men punching walls don’t make me laugh and men beating the shit out of other guys to protect their girl isn’t attractive to me. i just hate all of it

it used to be funny and attractive until it wasn’t. my dad was so mad at me yesterday bc he was drunk and i wouldn’t give him more alc, that he punched a wall. i took a pic of the hole in my bedroom door and sent it my friends in our gc and we were laughing so hard at it bc white men and punching walls yk? It was so funny and we kept making jokes/memes ab it til i realised he punched the wall bc he couldn’t punch me (i closed my door and he couldn’t get in) and that’s a weird fucking realisation.

i just don’t like any of it and i’m having a v bad day. i told my mum and brother and nobody gets it. they both blame me. it’s ridiculous. and now i’m convincing myself that i DID do something wrong, when i know i didnt. it’s fucking crazy. he could beat the shit out of me (he wouldn’t) and they’d still find a way to make it my fault.

im gna send u my mums response (english is her 3rd language so ignore the mistakes) and she’s literally blaming me.

for context, my dad has a history of abuse (against my mum, yet she still defends him) and my mum is just as bad.

this is what she texted me:

“Ppl have limitations. If you push them they do things or say things and you turn and call names to those can’t bare any more. You should be a bit more patient and a bit more respectful to your parents

You shouldn’t keep shouting at him. We’re both doing our best even we are not the best I know, but as a return I thing we deserve to be respected , if you are better than us then you should understand what I am saying”

i just feel so alone. i stg it’s like no one understands.

anyways long story short i don’t like violence and i don’t find it attractive. i don’t shame anyone / any girls bc i’m a girls girl at heart, but i hate how people have romanticised violence bc it really does send the wrong message to guys and younger boys growing up and hearing “fights are so hot” and “it’s so sexy when guys beat the shit out of other guys” even if they deserved it. like even tho they wouldn’t do that to you, the reminder that they can makes me sick. i just don’t like it and i feel like i’m the only one :/ violence just makes me icky and anxious and scared even if it’s not directed to me/supposed to “protect me” (when it’s at another guy at a bar or whatever).

thanks for listening to my rant. ur legit my bestie. i have an anon emoji & we’re mutuals/we talk on here like all the time but i don’t wanna use it on this

ily

i don’t think you’re wrong for having this opinion or have it belong in an unpopular opinion category. i think the issue is that violence (esp w. men) has been so desensitized that it’s “normal.”

i also don’t like violence and grew up with an angry man in my home. i will never be an angry man and i will never be with one for that reason. but when i read something fictional i feel like im taking control back (? if that makes sense.) because i can “control” the violence.

your dad was wrong, and it was wrong of your mom to try and protect him. you deserve to feel safe and i’m sorry you don’t. i’m here always <3