#so if i don't get accepted to that one it'll make my choice easier i guess

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

.

[grymmdark]

i applied to 2 campuses of the same university, and one of them would be much better for me academically and socially, but i wouldn't be able to get myself to and from there which fuckin sucks. like if it wasn't for the fact that I'd have to rely on my dad to drive me to/from there it'd basically be my dream school. however i wanna have some amount of independence and that's slightly more important for me than academics are

[edenesth]

The Paradox of Us

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Relationships are rarely as simple as they seem. It becomes heartbreakingly complicated when two souls, bound by a love that still burns bright, come to realise that sometimes, love alone may not be enough to keep them together.

A/N: Seonghwa's 踊り子 (odoriko) cover has been on repeat since the moment it came out. I couldn't get it out of my mind and just knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't write anything inspired by it.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"I don't love you."

Strangely, those words would have been easier to bear. But instead, you heard the ones that shattered you in ways you never thought possible: "I love you so much... but we can't go on like this anymore."

The ache was unbearable, as if your heart was tearing itself apart with every replay of his broken voice in your mind. You would have preferred if he had said his love had faded, that the spark was gone. At least then, you could grieve, accept, and move forward. But no—he still loved you. Deeply. And that cruel truth left you stuck in a purgatory of emotions, unable to let go.

Yet, you understood him. You always did. And perhaps that was the most painful part of all—knowing he was right. You had felt it too, this growing divide neither of you could bridge. But you hadn't been brave enough to say it aloud, to admit that love wasn't enough to hold together two people who simply weren't meant to be.

So, he said it for you. And now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been, and the love that would never quite fade.

"It'll be alright, sweetie. Time heals everything," your mother murmured, her hand gently rubbing your back as you blinked away tears and refused to meet her gaze. Her tone was soft, even comforting, but you couldn't stand it—not when she sat there pretending she hadn't played a pivotal role in this heartbreak. You could almost feel her satisfaction simmering beneath the surface, hidden behind her facade of concern. After all, hadn't she always believed he would never measure up? That he was never good enough for you?

You hated it—hated her.

Hated how she had turned your relationship with him into a battlefield, her disapproval so loud, so ever-present, that it became impossible for him to feel at home in your life. How dare she sit beside you now, feigning sorrow, when her constant criticisms had planted the seed of doubt that grew into the conclusion you dreaded? How dare she, of all people, offer comfort when she had made you believe that love—your greatest love—wasn't enough?

Her words echoed in your mind, the ones she'd repeated time and time again: "Love and compatibility aren't the same. Love is powerful, yes, but relationships are more than just feelings—they require shared values, aligned goals, and practical compatibility." She had said it so often that it became a mantra, one you tried to ignore until it became impossible.

And then there was him.

You hated him too—hated him for giving in, for not fighting harder, for agreeing with everyone else. For being too selfless, too considerate, too good. He'd always told you, "Family comes first. Everything else—including me—comes second." You hated that he meant it. Hated that he let you go because he believed it was the right thing to do, the thing that would hurt the least.

But most of all, you hated yourself.

Hated yourself for knowing, deep down, that they were all right. That maybe love really wasn't enough. You hated yourself for being too afraid to defy them, too afraid to risk it all for him. While he was brave enough to let you go, and your mother was relentless in her convictions, you had been the coward. You let everyone else make the choice for you because you couldn't bear to make it yourself.

And now, you were left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of what-ifs and the haunting ache of knowing you had lost not because you didn't love enough, but because you hadn't been brave enough to fight for that love.

"The right person will come along," she said softly. You pressed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. Without another word, you pushed yourself up from the dining chair, leaving your barely touched meal behind, and headed to your room.

Before you could step through the door, her voice followed you, cutting through the air like a knife. "You'll thank me one day when you meet a man who can give you all the things that boy never could."

Your fists clenched as you slammed the door shut behind you. Sliding down to the floor with your back against the wood, you let her words fester. Maybe she was right. You weren't getting any younger. Around you, friends and cousins were all settling down with partners your mother would call 'suitable.' And you hated it—hated that, in her eyes, Seonghwa could never be that person for you.

But then, the thought struck: you were your mother's daughter. How much of this was truly her fault? At some point, hadn't you begun to believe her? Slowly, insidiously, her words had taken root in your mind. You did this. To him, to yourself.

You remembered watching others build their perfect, storybook lives with partners who ticked every box society demanded. And you wondered—quietly at first, then louder—if you and Seonghwa could ever achieve the same. Could he be that for you? Could you be that for him?

It wasn't fair. Not to him, not to you. You hated yourself for the way doubt crept in, for how your mother's voice echoed in your head, pointing out the cracks and differences you had tried so hard to ignore. You hated yourself for wishing things could be different, for swallowing those thoughts because you loved him too much to ask him to change. He was who he was—his own person.

How could you ask him to mould himself into someone your mother would approve of? Someone society deemed 'right' for you? And if he did, would he even be the man you fell in love with?

It was those questions, those doubts, that began to live rent-free in your mind. Bit by bit, they widened the gap between you. And Seonghwa wasn't blind. He saw it. He felt it.

"You deserve someone better—someone who can give you so much more," he had said that final night, his voice breaking under the weight of goodbye.

It was your fault—your doubts, your actions, your silence. They had pushed him to that conclusion. And now, as the door behind you trembled with your suppressed sobs, you wondered: How dare you blame your mother for what you had done to him? To yourself?

How dare you?

"Gaming at San's place next, you coming?" Wooyoung asked, tossing a napkin onto the table as everyone scrambled to leave. The ridiculous game they'd invented—where the last one to leave had to pay the bill—had everyone laughing and darting for the exit.

Seonghwa's smile barely touched his lips as he shook his head and reached for his wallet. "Go on with them. I'll cover it."

The younger man hesitated, glancing at him before blurting out, "Dude, you can't always give in like this. Your poor financial planning skills are exactly why she left you."

The table fell silent, the air suddenly heavy. Wooyoung's grin faltered as he realised what he'd said, too late to take it back. Seonghwa didn't flinch outwardly, but the words sliced deep because they were true. Partly, at least.

It wasn't like he made much, not compared to the rest of his friends with their steady corporate jobs. And yet, he wasn't careful with what little he had. You had always been the one saving, planning, building a future he could barely contribute to. People his age were buying cars, investing in property, making strides toward a stable life. But he wasn't like them. He had chased his passion as a figurine crafter—a dream that didn't come with a steady paycheck—and he'd known the risks. Your mother was right: you deserved someone who could offer you the stability he never could.

"Hey, man," Wooyoung said quickly, guilt colouring his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I got the bill already, so don't worry about it. Just come with us tonight, yeah? Relax a little."

But the eldest only gave a faint shake of his head. The apology didn't soften the truth of the remark. He was the reason things fell apart. Not because he didn't love you enough—he loved you too much—but because love wasn't enough.

He'd failed you. Failed to provide the kind of life you deserved. He couldn't believe you'd even agreed to be with him in the first place, so different were your worlds. Your family background, your education, your values, your ambitions—they all set you apart. He had nothing to offer someone like you. And yet, he had been selfish enough to hold on, to want you despite knowing he could never measure up.

He should have worked harder. Should have tried to step up and be the man you needed. But he hadn't, because deep down, he knew he couldn't. Perhaps he had always known it wouldn't last. That one day, you'd wake up and realise the same.

You didn't leave right away. You stayed longer than he deserved. And when you finally began pulling away, when the signs became impossible to ignore, he had to let go. It wasn't courage that made him end it—it was inevitability.

"Come with us, hyung," Wooyoung tried again, his voice gentler this time.

But Seonghwa shook his head once more. "You guys go ahead without me. I... I have somewhere to be."

It was a lie, and they all knew it. He had nowhere to be. Nowhere that mattered, at least. Just his empty apartment, where the echoes of your absence would greet him like old, familiar ghosts.

He didn't care if they saw through the lie. What mattered was that he deserved this—the loneliness, the self-pity, the regret. He had almost broken you apart from your family because he was selfish enough to believe his love was enough. He had almost stolen your future because he couldn't face the truth.

But now, it was over. You had given him the courage to do what was right in the end. He was grateful for that. Grateful you'd started pulling away. Grateful you'd given him the signs. Grateful you'd broken his heart with the words he couldn't bear to say himself.

It's time.

Time to stop pretending.

Time to let you go.

Time to let the misery end.

Yes, let it all go. Let the misery end.

He repeated the words in his head like a chant as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each mile. The familiar streets blurred past him, their lights shimmering in his tear-filled eyes. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming, warm and unrelenting. He hated himself for it. Hated that, even now, he could almost see you sitting beside him, your laughter echoing faintly in his memory.

These night drives had been your sanctuary. Just you and him, wrapped in the quiet of the world, as if nothing else mattered. Not the expectations, not the disapproving glances, not the relentless whispers about how you two didn't belong together. It had always been just you and him against everything.

But now, it was just him.

He didn't dare glance at the passenger seat. He couldn't bear the sight of its emptiness, couldn't face the truth of your absence. His mind played cruel tricks on him, filling the silence with phantom conversations, fleeting glimpses of your smile.

Everything around him reminded him of you. The way the streetlights hit the pavement, the faint smell of your favourite perfume lingering in his car, the songs on the radio you'd sing along to when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He wanted to escape it, but he knew going home would only make it worse.

Home.

The word felt hollow now. How could it be home when you weren't there? Every corner of that apartment held traces of you—the books you'd stacked neatly on the shelf, the coffee mug you always left on the counter, the sheets that still carried the faintest scent of your shampoo. He knew he should let those remnants go, pack them away, make it easier to move on. But the thought of erasing you felt like losing you all over again.

As the weight of it all pressed down on him, he slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. His hands trembled as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather grounding him for just a moment.

Is this hurting you too?

He wondered if you were struggling as much as he was. Part of him selfishly hoped you were, that you missed him the way he missed you. But another part—the part that loved you more than he loved himself—hoped you were finding peace. Hoped you were happier without him, that his decision to let you go had given you the chance to find the stability, the life, you deserved.

Clutching a hand to his chest, he finally let the tears fall freely. The ache in his heart felt unbearable, like a piece of him had been ripped away and might never grow back. Would he ever be okay again? Would he ever know happiness without you?

He didn't know.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. But he told himself, over and over, that this was the right thing to do. It didn't matter if he was happy. It didn't matter if he felt whole again. All that mattered was you. And as he sat there, broken and lost, he prayed you were finding the happiness he couldn't give you, even if it meant he would never find it again.

It's okay... she'll find the right person now.

The right person. Who even decided what that meant? Who had the authority to label someone as right or wrong for you?

Maybe it was the lingering ache for Park Seonghwa, the way his name still carried the weight of memories you hadn't yet learned to let go. Or maybe it was the frustration bubbling inside you, resentment toward your parents for tricking you into meeting this man—the son of your father's business partner—the one they couldn't stop praising.

Jung Yunho, the perfect man, as they called him. He was everything they'd ever wanted for you, a textbook example of stability, charm, and success. But the problem wasn't him. It was you. You weren't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever. Years had passed since the breakup, but the ghost of what you had with Seonghwa still clung to you, a shadow that even time couldn't chase away.

"Hey," Yunho's voice pulled you back from your spiralling thoughts. His gaze, warm and sincere, met yours as he leaned in slightly. "You feeling alright?"

Caught off guard, you glanced down at your untouched plate of steak and managed a small nod. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

But he didn't look convinced. Instead, his lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile—the kind that could probably disarm anyone, just not you. "How could I not, when such a pretty lady is sulking before me?" he teased gently. Before you could reply, he reached across the table, taking your plate without hesitation. "Here, let me help you."

With careful precision, he began cutting the steak into neat, bite-sized pieces. The gesture was so thoughtful, so kind, and yet it left you feeling hollow. It wasn't the act itself—it was the way it lacked the weight of familiarity.

Seonghwa used to do the same thing, but it had always been different with him. He'd grumble playfully about how you'd never learn to do it yourself, though he never minded doing it for you. His hands were smaller, more delicate, and you'd always find yourself staring at the faint scars from his crafts. Yunho's hands, while steady and practised, didn't hold the same history.

"All done," Yunho said cheerfully, sliding the plate back to you. "Now you have no excuse not to eat."

You forced a polite smile, murmuring a quiet "thank you" as you picked up your fork. Yunho didn't seem to notice the distant look in your eyes, or perhaps he was kind enough not to point it out.

He was wonderful. Thoughtful, patient, and sincere. By all accounts, he was the right person. But as you sat there, forcing yourself to chew, you couldn't help but wonder:

What if the right person wasn't the one who checked all the boxes? What if they were the one who didn't, but still felt like home?

The rest of the night crawled by like a snail, every passing second stretching unbearably long. You shifted in your seat, wishing you were anywhere but here. Yunho was a great guy—attentive, charming, and genuinely kind. But that only made it worse. He deserved someone who could meet his enthusiasm with equal fervour, someone who didn't have her mind wandering to someone else entirely.

You sighed quietly, pushing your barely touched drink to the side. What the hell was wrong with you? This was what you'd agreed to, wasn't it? This was what you'd sacrificed so much for. Years ago, you walked away from the love of your life because it felt like the right thing to do, to pursue the kind of stability and compatibility everyone insisted was more important than love alone. And now here it was, right in front of you.

The right person.

Yet, as you glanced at Jung Yunho's radiant smile, so effortlessly warm, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him felt less like the happy ending you'd envisioned and more like a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage that offered everything a woman could ever ask for—security, stability, admiration. Everything except the one thing your heart still longed for.

All you could ever find inside yourself was the same man you'd tried so hard to let go of.

Park Seonghwa.

Your chest tightened at the thought of him, your mind betraying you with memories you'd worked so hard to bury. You wondered how he was doing, though it wasn't as if you hadn't heard. Mutual friends kept you updated more than you cared to admit, their words painting glimpses of a life that no longer included you.

You'd heard he was finally making progress with his work, his passion—the very thing you'd once defended but later doubted. He'd opened a small store, modest but filled with so much of himself. It sold various collectable art pieces: action figures, miniatures for tabletop games, and custom character figurines crafted with meticulous care. Fans of Star Wars and Animal Crossing flocked to him, drawn to the detail and love that radiated from every piece he touched.

And you were proud of him. God, you were so proud of him.

He'd stayed true to himself, despite all the judgement, all the whispers about how he'd never make it, how he'd never be good enough. He'd proved them wrong. He'd built something meaningful, something entirely his own. You were happy for him, truly, but beneath that happiness lay an ache you couldn't ignore. You regretted not being there to witness it, to cheer for him when he finally achieved what he'd always dreamed of.

But maybe that wasn't what he wanted. For all you knew, he'd moved on, found someone who stayed by his side through all the highs and lows. Someone who loved him openly and without reservation, who didn't make him feel like he'd never measure up.

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sworn off love entirely after the way things ended between you two.

Either way, you couldn't blame him. You wouldn't blame him. Not after the pain you'd both endured.

Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Is... everything okay? You've been quiet tonight." His concern was genuine, his eyes soft with worry, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

But deep down, you knew you weren't fine. And you didn't know if you ever would be.

"How much for that one?"

The tiny voice drew Seonghwa's attention, and he glanced down at the little girl standing on tiptoes, her small finger pointing eagerly at the figurine encased behind the counter. It was the only one displayed under glass, like a prized treasure—and in a way, it was.

He hummed, his eyes softening as he turned to look at the figure in question. The Kuromi figurine sat proudly on the top shelf, right next to the LED sign that glowed softly with his store's name: Star Mars. The design was intricate, every detail was carefully crafted with love and precision.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "That one's not for sale. It's reserved for someone very special."

The little girl pouted, her lips forming a perfect curve of disappointment, and his heart melted a little. But no amount of adorable pouting—or even persuasive whining—could ever convince him to sell it.

That Kuromi figurine wasn't just a piece of art; it was a promise, a memory frozen in time. It was one of the first figurines he'd perfected, the culmination of years of practice and the relentless pursuit of his passion. He'd made it as a gift for you—his favourite girl.

It still is yours, if only you wanted it.

The child's father stepped forward, lifting her into his arms as he gave Seonghwa an apologetic bow. "Don't worry about her, Mr Park. I'll convince her to go with the Isabelle one instead."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, standing upright as he waved off the father's concern. "No problem at all. Isabelle's a great choice," he said, though his eyes lingered briefly on the Kuromi figurine.

As the father and daughter moved on to browse the other displays, Seonghwa found himself lost in thought. He didn't display that piece out of pride or for show—it was there because it reminded him of you. Of the nights you'd spend sitting cross-legged on the floor of his studio, playfully teasing him about his obsession with getting every detail just right.

"She looks like you," he'd said when he showed it to you for the first time. You'd laughed, brushing it off, but the glint of affection in your eyes told him you secretly loved the comparison.

He'd planned to give it to you on your birthday, but the timing never felt right. And then, before he knew it, you were gone.

The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound slicing through the haze of his thoughts and yanking him back to the present. He straightened up, plastering on the polite smile he reserved for customers, though the weight in his chest never eased.

"Good evening! Welcome to…" His voice faltered mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat as his entire world screeched to a halt.

There you were.

It had been years, but time seemed to melt away the moment his eyes landed on you. You stood there in the soft glow of his store lights, more beautiful than he remembered—if that were even possible. Your silk dress shimmered gently with each subtle movement, an elegant coat draped effortlessly over your shoulders. The once long hair he used to run his fingers through was now cropped to your shoulders, framing your face in a way that made you look older, wiser—but still you.

Even after all this time, his heart betrayed him. It thundered in his chest, each beat screaming your name. He clenched his fist tightly at his side, willing himself to stay rooted where he stood. Every fibre of his being ached to run to you, to close the distance, but he couldn't. He shouldn't.

Slowly, shakily, he mustered a smile, though it felt like his heart might burst from the sheer force of its racing. Then, to his astonishment—and heartbreak—you returned it. A soft, familiar curve of your lips that nearly undid him.

But then, it fell apart.

The moment shattered as a tall, striking man stepped in behind you. He moved with easy confidence, his presence commanding attention as if the universe itself had tilted slightly to make room for him. Without hesitation, his hand found its way to your shoulder, resting there with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

"See anything you like?" the man asked, his deep voice carrying the warmth of intimacy as he looked down at you.

You blinked, startled, as if shaken from a dream. "Oh… I was just…" Your voice trailed off as your gaze flicked back to your ex-boyfriend, lingering for a moment longer than it should have.

Seonghwa's smile faltered, but he quickly schooled his expression, burying the ache that clawed at his chest. He nodded politely, forcing himself to focus on the customer standing in front of him—the both of you.

The Kuromi figurine sat silently on its shelf, bathed in soft light, waiting for a moment that might never come. The air inside the store suddenly felt stifling. Seonghwa stood behind the counter, his hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Welcome to Star Mars," he said, his voice steady but his smile trembling under the weight of emotions. He forced it wider, hoping it would mask the whirlwind within. "It's been a while. How have you been?" His heart clenched as the words left his mouth. He wanted to sound casual, as though you were just another customer, but he couldn't. You weren't just anyone. You never had been.

You gave him a hesitant smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I've been good. How about you?"

Before he could answer, the man beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding warmth—stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "Oh, you two know each other? What a small world!" His voice was friendly, his smile sincere, and Seonghwa's chest tightened further.

He should feel relief. This man, presumably your boyfriend—or worse, your fiancé—seemed perfect for you. He was everything Seonghwa had wanted for you when he stepped away, believing he could never give you the life you deserved. And yet, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, this is Seonghwa. He's... an old friend of mine."

Old friend. The words landed like a punch to his stomach, but he kept his composure.

The man extended a hand toward him, his smile unwavering. "I'm Yunho. It's nice to meet you! Next time my nieces and nephews need new toys, I'll know who to come to."

Seonghwa took his hand, shaking it firmly while managing a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too." His gaze flickered back to you, catching the way you avoided meeting his eyes.

As if on cue, Yunho's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call. For the first time since you'd entered, the air felt heavy with unspoken words.

You turned back to your ex, your eyes meeting his briefly before dropping to the counter. "Congratulations... Seonghwa," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a fragile memory. "It's good to see how far you've come."

He nodded slowly, his smile softer now, though the ache in his eyes remained. "Thank you. And... congratulations to you as well," he said, glancing toward the window where Yunho stood. "He seems amazing."

The kindness in his tone made it hurt even more.

"No," you blurted, shaking your head. "He's not... we're just... friends. I don't..." Your words faltered, your voice trembling. "I'm not with anyone."

His brows lifted in surprise, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. You wished he'd say something, anything, but the way his eyes softened, brimming with a mix of emotions—relief, hesitation, and something deeper—was answer enough.

Your breath hitched when your gaze landed on the figurine behind him. Kuromi. Encased in glass, displayed on the highest shelf. You remembered the countless hours he'd spent perfecting it, the way he'd proudly shown you the finished piece.

He still kept it.

Before you could find the courage to ask why, Yunho reappeared, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hey, sorry to cut your little catch-up session short, but something urgent came up at work, and I—"

Seonghwa straightened, his polite smile snapping back into place. "Of course, don't let me keep you."

Your heart sank as he turned to you, bowing slightly. "It was nice seeing you again."

You forced a smile, though your chest ached with everything left unsaid. "It was nice seeing you too."

As you followed Yunho out, you couldn't resist glancing back one last time. Your eyes met Seonghwa's, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though a thousand words passed between you.

Regret. Longing. Love.

The bell above the door jingled again as you stepped out, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. Yunho was quiet as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence between you felt thick, almost suffocating, but you didn't know what to say. How could you explain the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you without sounding selfish or ungrateful?

"It's him, isn't it?" Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, soft but resolute.

Your head snapped toward him, your heart pounding in panic. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered, the guilt already clawing its way to the surface.

He sighed, pulling the car to a gentle stop in front of your home. Turning to face you, he gave you a small, knowing smile. "The man from the store. Park Seonghwa, right? He's the one you've been thinking about all night. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Your breath caught, your hands fumbling with the seatbelt as you tried to come up with a response. But the look in his eyes told you that lying wasn't an option. "I…" You paused, finally managing to unfasten the seatbelt, but your words seemed caught in your throat. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean for this to happen."

He leaned back with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I knew from the beginning that you weren't exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but I still went along with it, hoping… I don't know, that maybe something would change."

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "You deserve better than this," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Hey." He reached out, his hand covering yours with a comforting warmth. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "This… whatever this was supposed to be, it wouldn't have worked if both of us weren't fully in it. And that's okay. You know why?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. "Why?"

"Because this decision—choosing who you want to be with—it's for you, not for your parents, not for me, and certainly not for anyone else. It should never be about what people think or what they want. It's your life. Live it for yourself."

His words struck you like a bolt of lightning, unravelling years of self-doubt and regret. He was right. How had you allowed yourself to be swept up in everyone else's expectations, losing sight of what truly mattered to you?

You sat back in your seat, letting his words sink in, feeling a strange mix of guilt and liberation. After a long moment, you nodded, your voice steadier now. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."

He smiled, his eyes kind and understanding. "Go on," he said, tilting his head toward your house. "And don't let fear hold you back this time."

As you stepped out of the car, his words echoed in your mind, igniting a spark of courage you hadn't felt in years.

You turned back, watching as Yunho drove away, his figure disappearing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sliver of clarity.

It wasn't too late. You still had a choice to make. And this time, you'd make it for yourself.

The shop was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of paper as Seonghwa meticulously wrapped the Isabelle and Grogu figurines the pair of father and daughter finally agreed on getting. His movements were precise, his focus seemingly sharp, but his mind was elsewhere—stuck on the brief yet piercing encounter that had just walked out of his life again.

"That Kuromi one… it's for the pretty lady earlier, isn't it?"

The father's voice broke through Seonghwa's haze, and his hands froze briefly before resuming their task. He didn't look up, focusing instead on folding the edges of the wrapping paper with unnecessary care. "You might be right," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than intended. "But it doesn't matter if it is."

The man tilted his head, a subtle frown forming as he cradled his daughter closer. "And why's that? It clearly still means a lot to you both."

Seonghwa finally glanced up, forcing a polite smile, though it faltered almost immediately. "You saw it yourself... she's with someone else. Someone better." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, laced with a resignation he didn't quite believe in.

The man sighed, shifting the little girl in his arms so she could hold her new Grogu figurine. He regarded your ex with a look that felt far too knowing. "I also saw how she looked at you," he said softly. "And she didn't look like someone who's better off."

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, but the customer wasn't finished. His gaze drifted toward the cute purple figurine that was not for sale, and for a moment, his expression softened into something fragile—something etched with pain.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "my wife used to love Sanrio too. She had this little Cinnamoroll keychain she carried everywhere." He chuckled faintly, the sound bittersweet. "I always thought I'd have more time to make her smile, to give her the little things that made her happy. But time doesn't wait for anyone. One day, it was just… gone."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Seonghwa felt something tighten in his chest.

The man glanced at him then, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through Seonghwa's carefully built walls. "I don't know what's between you and her, Mr Park. But I do know this: regret is a heavy thing to carry. Don't let it weigh you down, not if you can still do something about it."

He gave Seonghwa a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of lessons learned too late, before taking the bag of purchased items. "Sometimes, all it takes is one step in the right direction. Don't let the chance slip away."

And then he was gone, the bell above the door jingling faintly as father and daughter disappeared into the night.

Seonghwa stood motionless behind the counter, his gaze drifting back to the Kuromi figurine in its glass case. The light reflected off it, casting faint shadows on the shelf behind it. It was meant for you. It had always been for you.

The father's words replayed in his mind, unrelenting in their simplicity and truth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on the figurine made just for you, but his thoughts were elsewhere—back to you, back to all the moments that had led to this one.

Back then, he'd convinced himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could find the happiness he didn't think he could give you. He thought he was being selfless, noble even, sacrificing his own heart so you could find someone better—someone who deserved you. But now, the cracks in that logic were glaringly obvious. What had any of this accomplished? Neither of you had found happiness in the way he'd hoped.

The truth was harsh: he hadn't even tried. He hadn't fought to be better for you, to grow into someone worthy of your love. Instead, he'd accepted the version of himself the world seemed to see—a man with dreams too small and ambitions too impractical. He'd let himself believe that you deserved someone like Yunho, someone who fit the mould of what your parents and society thought was 'right.'

But things were different now. He wasn't that man anymore. He'd worked hard, not for anyone else but for himself. Every step he'd taken to build his store, every figurine he'd crafted with his own hands, every small milestone he'd achieved—it was proof that he could create something meaningful. And if he could do that, maybe he could create a life with you.

His heart clenched at the thought of you with Yunho, not because he doubted the man's worth, but because he knew Yunho could never hold your heart the way he still did. Yunho was everything society said you should want—stable, charming, perfect on paper. But love wasn't about paper. Love was about the way you used to light up whenever he showed you his newest creation, about the quiet nights you'd spent talking about everything and nothing, about the way your hand had always felt right in his.

Suddenly, the idea of the 'right person' seemed so absurd. There was no such thing. The right person wasn't someone who ticked all the boxes. The right person was the one you chose to love, again and again, flaws and all.

And you had chosen him once.

The real question now was whether you still would.

He straightened, his resolve hardening like molten metal cooling into steel. What kind of love was it if he could stand by and watch you settle for less than what you deserved? Not less in status or wealth, but less in the kind of happiness that made life worth living. What kind of love let you spend the rest of your days with someone who could never truly make your heart race?

Seonghwa wouldn't let that happen—not if he could help it.

His gaze lingered on the Kuromi figurine one last time before he moved toward the back room. He needed to think, to plan, to figure out how to tell you everything he should have said years ago.

If there was even the slightest chance that you still felt the same way, he would take it. Because this time, he wasn't letting fear or pride or anyone else's expectations get in the way.

This time, he was going to fight for you.

"Well...? Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" you asked, your voice sharp, as you stepped into the house. Your mother flinched, bowing her head slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She hesitated for a moment before coming up to you slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt.

"Yunho called," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he wishes not to force you."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humour. "Of course, it took an outsider's words for you to finally see how exhausting this has been for me," you said, your tone cutting. "All this talk about marriage, about finding the right man... who is it really for? Who am I doing this for, hm? Is it for my own happiness? Or... oh, right." You smiled grimly. "It never was about my happiness, was it? It was about keeping up appearances, about pleasing everyone but me."

Your mother's face crumpled as her gaze fell to the floor. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.

Your father, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, let out a long, weary sigh. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as though trying to steady himself. "We thought we were doing what was best for you," he said, his voice low, burdened with regret. "We thought... if we guided you toward someone like Yunho, we were ensuring a future where you'd be safe, secure."

"Safe?" you repeated, your voice breaking. "From what? From being myself? From choosing the person who actually makes me happy? You never trusted me to make my own decisions. You never thought I was capable of knowing what I want, what I need."

Your mother reached for your hand, her touch tentative. "It wasn't like that," she said, though her voice wavered. "We were scared. Scared that you'd make a mistake, scared that you'd regret it later, scared that—"

"You mean you were scared," you interrupted, pulling your hand back. "Scared of what people would say. Scared of what the neighbours, the relatives, society would think. But you never stopped to ask me what I thought. What I felt."

Tears glistened in her eyes now, spilling over as she shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're absolutely right. We were selfish. We thought we knew better, but we didn't. We never meant to hurt you, but we see now that we did. We hurt you by not listening, by not trusting you."

Your father stood, his movements deliberate, his face sombre. "If he's the one you want, if he's the one who makes you happy, then we'll support you. No more pushing, no more trying to control your life. It's your choice. It always should've been your choice."

For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension that had loomed for so long finally began to dissipate, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief.

You inhaled shakily, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. It wasn't a perfect resolution—there was still so much to work through—but this was a start. A start you'd been longing for. "Thank you," you said softly, the words fragile but sincere. "Thank you for finally understanding."

And as your mother pulled you into a trembling embrace, you allowed yourself to hope that things could finally change. She smiled softly, brushing a hand against your cheek as if to assure you it was okay now. Your father stood behind her, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper—perhaps the weight of finally letting go.

They exchanged a glance before your father nodded toward the door. "Go," he said quietly, his voice firm but warm. "Go where your heart tells you to. We'll always be here."

You blinked, stunned by their words, and for a moment, you couldn't move. But then, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an urgency that made your pulse race. Without another word, you turned and rushed out, barely remembering to grab your keys on the way.

Your car roared to life as you sped through the streets, your destination clear as day in your mind. Star Mars. The silly name you'd suggested in passing all those years ago, never imagining he'd actually use it. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Would he still want you after all this time? Did it matter? Even if he didn't, you needed him to know. You needed to tell him how you felt—how you still felt.

Parking haphazardly in front of his store, you didn't waste a second before bolting toward it. But as you reached the doors, your heart sank. The store was dark, the lights off, the doors locked. "Closed" hung starkly on the door, though the shops around it buzzed with life.

You froze, staring through the glass, confusion and dread pooling in your stomach. It's not even closing time yet... Had seeing you earlier bothered him that much? Had you pushed him away again, without even realising it?

Slumping against the door, you bit back tears, the overwhelming sense of missed chances clawing at your chest. Sure, you could come back another day. But you'd already lost so much time, wasted so many years pretending you didn't want this, pretending you didn't love him. You didn't want to waste another second.

Your gaze drifted inside the store, scanning the shelves. Your breath caught when you noticed something was missing. The Kuromi figurine—the one you'd lingered on earlier—was gone. You frowned, stepping closer to the glass. It had been there before. Where had it gone?

"Looking for this?"

The familiar voice made you spin around so fast you nearly stumbled. There he was, standing just a few feet away, the Kuromi figurine clutched in his hand, still encased in its protective plastic.

Your breath hitched as tears filled your eyes. "You took her off the shelf?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you took a tentative step toward him. "Where were you planning to take her?"

He smiled softly, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own. "I was going to take her to her rightful owner," he murmured, his voice steady but tender.

Your heart stopped at his words, and you whispered shakily, "Was? So you're not taking her anymore?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Why not?"

He hesitated, the weight of years of longing and regret pressing against his chest. But then, the words of the customer from earlier echoed in his mind. Don't wait until it's too late. He looked at you—really looked at you—and knew, without a doubt, that this moment was the answer he'd been waiting for.

Taking a careful step forward, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing softly against yours. His breath hitched when your fingers instinctively curled around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter everything.

"Because you're already here," he murmured, his voice trembling with unspoken emotion.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your heart felt whole again. The ache of countless nights spent longing for him, convinced you'd never feel his love again, melted away. Here he was—right in front of you—just like all those years ago. Yet, it felt different now. It felt... right. Because this time, neither of you would let fear or doubt stand in the way. This time, you were both ready to fight for it, to grow, to compromise, and to hold on.

"Hwa, I... I need to tell you something," you began, your voice shaking, each word heavy with the weight of years spent in silence. Your eyes searched his, desperate to convey everything your heart had been screaming in his absence. But before you could say more, he smiled—a small, trembling curve of his lips that held every ounce of love and pain he'd been holding back.

His eyes glistened as he leaned in, his forehead gently meeting yours, grounding you, binding you in a way that no words ever could. The moment felt infinite, a pause in time where your souls met in unspoken understanding.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, raw and honest. Before you could process the words, his lips found yours, soft and warm, carrying all the unspoken promises, all the years of longing, all the love you thought you'd lost.

The world blurred and softened around you—the hum of the street and the glow of the city lights dissolving into nothingness. All that remained was him, the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady warmth of his hands cradling your face, the way his heart seemed to beat in perfect rhythm with yours.

In that kiss, you felt everything: the heartbreak, the yearning, the hope, and, most of all, the love that had endured time, separation, and pain. It was as if every broken piece of your heart was mending, every crack filled with the warmth of his love.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet night. His thumb brushed away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen, his touch tender and sure.

"This time," he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion, "I'm not letting you go."

And you knew—you both knew—that this time, nothing would keep you apart.

Istg, this wasn't meant to be so long. I wasn't even sure I wanted to give it a happy ending at first, but then I just kept getting carried away and voila. I swear I am working on Yunho's chapter of By Order of the Black Pirates bit by bit hehe just had to get this out of my system first.

As always, thank you for reading and hope y'all liked this one! Do let me know your thoughts! <3

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[octosan]

No but when I say that the problem isn't that Veilguard is bad (when it is IMO) I'm specifically saying that I would have forgiven so much about this game in a vacuum.

In a vacuum, Veilguard feels like a genuine attempt to release a AAA game that isn't preying on its consumers with live service models, overpaid DLC that should have been in the main game, and obvious gamebreaking glitches that turn average players into unpaid beta-testers. And when I was playing it, in a lot of ways it felt like the most technically finished dragon age game of the series. It's the first dragon age game since Origins that doesn't need to be launched by the actually broken EA App! It actually has accessibility options!

But is it really less predatory to misrepresent the tone and content of the game to longtime fans? To not give so much as a warning that it, at the very least, would not be more in line with the writing and depth-of-lore of previous entries? To baldfacedly and repeatedly lie about the development cycle which shrewd players knew by heart already? Is it really okay, is it really acceptable, to wave our hands and go "well the devs probably signed an NDA that makes it so they can't openly address critique" for a game that is 70+ dollars USD and pushes merch that costs upwards of 150 dollars and is (in my understanding) even more expensive overseas? Should I, an average player, have been expected to research the ins and outs of game development language to read between the lines?

Like there's so many... greedy? decisions in this game. I have such a hard time believing that they redesigned the complex and terrifying red lyrium idol into a generic blue fantasy dagger (a redesign so half-assed they had to include a beat in the game where a character "recognizes it" for players to even know it was the same thing) for any reason other than making it easier to replicate as cosplay merch they can sell in their Rook's Coffers bundle which doesn't even include the game.

I mean the fact that they claimed, in the marketing, that the character designs in Inquisition and Veilguard were both made with cosplayers in mind should have been another red flag to me tbh.

Is this really okay?

Like,

I was (briefly) in the Bioware server, you know? I was surrounded by people who were so excited for this game and how it would follow up on previous installments. And every time someone had misgivings because of what they were seeing in the marketing, the general attitude was "everyone who worked on the game is so excited about releasing it, the writers and the devs and even the voice actors, so I will trust them that it is good." People pre-ordered the game even knowing it might not be good because "It's Dragon Age", to say nothing of people who pre-emptively bought that merch bundle.

I was one of those people. I thought "why would they bring attention to this stuff if it wasn't good? Why would they go on about how deep and rich the lore and characters are, how the story balances grim and light-hearted moments, how good the banter is, how much you can shape your Rook and their feelings on their own backstory in roleplay, how Veilguard is better written than all of the prior games, why would they say that this is the best DA game they've ever worked on, if they, at least, don't believe it? Even if in the end I'll find my tastes are different in regards to the narrative choices, it can't be worse than DA2--very flawed but which I loved--or even Inquisition--which I hated (or thought I did until now) but still get a lot of mileage out of. It will still feel like Dragon Age. So yeah, it'll be worth it to me to spend this money."

My sister dfkgkdfkgfdsk begged me to wait until the game was on sale before buying it, but the thought of waiting months and months for that made me feel depressed and again--I took the developers at their word that it would be good.

This is a joke I know the developers are not literally as bad as Gortash.

Now, though, I feel sick and embarrassed that I spent so much money on this game in a time of my life when money is increasingly becoming an issue. When I actively wish I hadn't played this game at all and had its lore and narrative decisions burned into my brain.

And it's taking me days and days to even unpack and articulate this, every time I think I'm done venting the worst of my grief I realize I have more to say.

I've seen that Jenny Nicholson quote going around lately and it's very poignant, but you know what Jenny Nicholson video reminds me of Veilguard the most?

The Star Wars Galactic Cruise video. If you haven't watched it yet, you really should click the link and check it out because it's a fantastic video, the best example of niche journalism I've personally ever seen.

I think about the ways that every point she makes in her video talking about this atrocious money-sucking Disney attraction reminds me of Veilguard. Right up to the very end where we see what we COULD have gotten and didn't because of corporate greed.

As well as the fact that there is a significant crowd of people who not only enjoy Veilguard (which again, is not an issue and I'm genuinely glad if the decisions the devs made made this a better experience for you than previous games because I would not wish this sheer level of buyer's remorse on anyone) but are claiming that the fans sitting here feeling scammed out of unreasonable amounts of money because of the misleading marketing just had "too high expectations" and "you get what you put into it" as if we don't have previous dragon age games with their shitty development cycles to point to in what we wanted out of this one and what the devs were capable of putting into it.

Exactly the same crowd claiming that people paying for an upwards $6,000 USD LARP experience are being "too nitpicky" when they point out various problems like the game breaks for some people and they didn't even make sure everyone can see the stage at the dinner show.

[unhappy-last-resort]

What Lovers Do (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: non con, implied past non con, smut, no mention of readers genitalia, implied bondage, penetration, use of lubricant, slight spoilers for future chapters but if you don't know then you can't tell

A/N: I started this at 4 AM this morning, apologies if the writing is a bit stiff I kinda wanted to get something quick out.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome and I hope you enjoy.

Status: Edited

"Then...can you tell me if I'm performing or being genuine right now?" The question was thrown at you with a chuckle and a certain glint in his eye, like he was a gambler about to win a bet. That should have been your first warning to say no, or better yet say nothing at all.

"I think..." It was less of a thought and more of a hope at the time. "You're being genuine." You spoke softly, as though you might shatter something if you spoke too loud despite your silly costume and unique setting. The maze you had cleared together now behind you, faux flower petals gently danced in the air above you. Despite the mechanoids of Constellia lacking a complete understanding of human aesthetics and choices, their imitation of them never failed to impress you.

In return, Roland gave a hearty laugh as he closed the distance between you two. "Is that so, Babylonian Commandant?" He reached his hand up and before you could stop him, you were stripped of your Sharksphere-esc head, leaving your face in his full view.

He held your chin gently, yet firm enough to hold you in place as he leaned in close, "Since I'm being genuine, why don't we commit ourselves to one another and do something only lovers do?" He whispered with a small smirk that barely contained his excitement.

While you had momentarily forgotten the differences between constructs and humans, but Roland was quick to remind you as he pulled you towards him, his other hand going straight to your crotch causing you to gasp and swat his hand away, which he ignored in favor of teasing you with his fingers.

"Roland, wha-"

"Shhhh...." He hushed you gently, as if he was consoling an upset child. "It's alright, just follow my lead and everything will be easier." You tried to push him away to no avail, it felt like you were trying to push a wall. Your struggling meant nothing to him as he held you tightly enough to keep you in place, but not so much that it was painful.

Despite yourself, you could feel your body responding in kind to his deceptively gentle touches and the occasional fleeting kiss on your skin as he whispered little words of praise or comfort to you, steadily drawing you into your first unsteady orgasm of the day.

Which led you to now, your costume and pants stripped from you and his artificial cock buried deep inside of you as he held you pinned to the floor, his black coating making him look like a wraith among the sea of pink and purple hues. It was so swift that you hadn't the chance to process what he was doing before your eyes widened and a stilted cry left your lips at the sudden intrusion. His faint scent of roses making your head spin as your walls spasm around him, struggling to adjust to him.

"Shhhh, Mon Chér it'll feel better soon, just wait." Roland held your cheek, making you look into his heterochronic eyes. One the color of the color of the sun and one the color of blood. Both looking at you almost sympathetically, had it not been for the subtle glee in his eyes you might've believed that sympathy to be true.

Before you could muster a reply, he very gently thrusted into you. It was clear now that he had slipped a lubricant on you amidst your earlier distraction of his insistent kisses as he removed your pants, easing your walls into accepting the stretch as each inch slowly sunk into you.

"This isn't..." You shut your eyes tightly as he slowly thrusted into you again, more lubricant this time than the last quickly turning the initial pain into pleasure. "This isn't what lovers do."

Roland raised a brow, his hips pulling back only to steadily push into you once more, reaching deeper with the help of the lubricant as you heaved an unsteady sigh. The sensation wasn't as painful as you'd hoped. "Isn't this what lovers do in a place like this?" Another drag of his cock easily had your body relaxing against the colorful floor of the venue. Empty chairs watching you both from a short distance away.

"They'd say their vows and consummate their love, ensuring they always love one another until the end of time?" His hold on your wrists had a grown a little tighter as a squelching sound filled the silence between you. You could feel arousal heightening your senses and making your body receptive to his actions despite you wishing it wouldn't.

Roland smiles sickeningly sweet as he leans in, your faces mere breaths apart. "You want this too, I can tell." He whispers before placing small kisses on the corner of your mouth. You take in a breath, about to protest before his eyes narrow slightly and a sudden thrust of his hips takes your breath away and leaves your mind buzzing with pleasure.

He kisses your face a few times, humming in satisfaction with your silence as he sets a steady pace inside you. Each thrust making his tip hit that place that had you seeing stars. If you didn't know any better, you would say it was almost with practiced precision, like he knew every inch of you better than you could ever hope to know yourself.

You can feel the smile on his lips as he decorates your neck with kisses, his iron grip on your wrists never once loosening. "You know, I was surprised when you contacted me." He whispers breathlessly, lightly nipping at your skin as your unsteady breaths turn into squeaks and moans. "I was certain this was a mere trap, or something so important it had left you desperate to achieve your goal no matter who you had to do it with." At that moment, a chime sounds and the doors leading to the exit of the maze open and all you can do is stare at it through glossy eyes as pleasure hits you like a wave with every thrust of his hips.

Roland chuckles again as he looks down at you, a gloating smile playing on his lips as he watches you fall apart, your human desires overtaking any protest or fight you might've had. "But when I came here and found out that you were simply naive enough to seek company from your enemy, well..." He drifts off, as his hips start slamming into yours with something that mimicked reckless abandon yet lacked the recklessness, being more akin to something designed for squeezing every little bit of pleasure out of you. "I couldn't help myself. How could an actor like me resist such an interesting plot?"

You jerk suddenly, your eyes seeing white as an orgasm crashes into you, leaving you dizzy in its wake as Roland's thrusts don't slow down or stop for a second. "You are such an interesting human. Like a blooming flower on a battlefield, I can't help wanting to pick it up and keep it for myself." He whispers with an edge, each brutal thrust of his hips making you writhe underneath him as your pleas are reduced to senseless babbling.

He leans in, your foreheads resting against each other and in this moment his expression falls away into something softer, almost loving. "We spent so much time arguing amongst ourselves, but seeing you like this makes everything we've done worth it." His voice sounds soft and raw, like a confession whispered only for his ears.

"C-can't...what..." Roland smiles and cups your cheek with his hand, freeing one of your wrists now that you can't struggle. His thumb brushes your bottom lip and it sickens you how genuinely happy he looks, his eyes full of adoration as the gentlest smile plays on his lips.

"I love you so much, you have no idea how many nights and days I spent on this Earth yearning for something to truly call mine." His pace becomes faster, any embers of your sanity fading with each slap of skin as the body heat of the construct above you rises. "And now, I can finally say..."

He grunts, his body shuddering as his eyes snap closed, a growl reverberating in his chest as he struggles to hold something back. "I can finally say..." His voice module strains as he arches into you, his cock somehow reaching deeper as he places messy kisses along your neck before he brings his face back up to yours again.

"I love you." His whispered words can barely register before his lips crash into yours, his eyes open to drink in every expression you make as he moans into the kiss. Your hips instinctively buck up into his as something hot coats your insides, he gives a final thrust to make sure you take every last drop of what he has to give and the sensation is enough to make your back arch as your second orgasm takes you.

He kisses you again and again, barely letting you breath as his other hand abandons your wrist and settles to hold your hip instead. "You have no clue how long I've wanted this to be true. Even if this is just a dream, or a play, I'm tired of playing to the audience's whims." He sounds ecstatic and desperate as he wraps his arms around and lifts you up as he slowly stands with cock still buried inside you, as if his previous orgasm meant nothing to him.

"Where are..." You slump against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You could barely speak, only just now having been given the privilege of breathing as you're vaguely aware he's walking, colors and light shifting around you in a blur.

"A proper place to continue our act, of course." He says as if it's obvious and kisses your forehead. "I'm not done yet." You're vaguely aware you're indoors again, a small living space greeting you, or perhaps you always were and you were too tired to notice.

"I hope this is to your taste," Roland says with his usual bravado. "Because we'll be here for a while." The bedroom door opens, revealing a bed illuminated by surrounding candles and the glitters of chains tied to its bedposts.

[4dkellysworld]

How do we drop thoughts and habits though? Lester doesn't really give a detailed answer on that and the Sedona method is more on letting go of feelings and emotions. For example I want to practice this by first letting go of the habit of always ordering takeout. I don't have any emotions attached to it, but I want to drop it because it's a bad habit and I can't control it. I tried letting go of it by just deciding that I've let go of this habit but I'm unsure if that's how you do it. Nothing really changed after I did that, but it might have been because I wasn't sure if it'll work.

I know you said you'll come on once a week so I'll work on letting go of feelings and emotions until you get back lol. I feel like most of my thoughts come from habits and tendencies, and even desires so I want to prioritize working on those

I'll answer this before I go back to my hermit cave for the next week or so :D You can start practicing witnessing for this. So maybe you aren't ready to practice witnessing the whole day but at least use the things you want to drop as a cue to witness in those moments. The same steps to dropping a habit can be applied to anything else but if there's any other clarity you want for the other things, feel free to send another ask later.

You let go of a habit by letting the urge to act on the habit to come up and not reinforcing it. Let the urge come up and let yourself feel whatever it is. Remember it is just a feeling and you don't need to act on it. You can choose to not act on it, it's always a choice. Ask yourself, if the body is a car, who is in the driver's seat: you or your mind? You don't need to act on anything the mind says/thinks/feels if you don't want to.

Don't judge or resist its appearance, allow it to be there and accept it for what it is without identifying with it, feeding it with more thoughts or acting on it. Simply just observe it as an unaffected witness. Allow it to be there and it will dissipate on its own. There's no need to make it go away as that only reinforces it more with resistance and keeps it there. Just keep doing this whenever the urge comes up and it will dissolve on its own when you stop giving it reality.

The other way you can go about this (maybe in conjunction to above practice) is Lester's way. You can take responsibility for this habit and ask yourself why this habit exists. Using your example here, why do you want to keep ordering takeout? What is the underlying reason for the desire? If you are simply hungry, why not the food at home, why not get groceries and cook at home instead? Really dig deep, maybe there is some underlying belief that can be dropped and if you drop that, the whole habit might be gone. But if there's none and it's just an automatic response you've gotten used to over time, then witnessing alone should be fine for it.

Give these practices a try and let me know how you go in the next week :)

Here is something from Lester that might be helpful too:

We can always take a small habit and begin changing it. The moment we do that, we are doing away with a bit of ego and therefore the drive in us for the Self becomes a bit stronger. To use this method and to suffer under it is wrong! If I am a habitual smoker, I say “Well, I'm not going to smoke.” And it just bothers me to no end. I would be better off smoking than going through a constant trouble, struggle and negativity of thought of wanting and not having it. It would put me down rather than up. But when I start with small habits such as taking a different street and doing away with it, then I find out that I am capable of breaking a habit. And each time I break one habit it's easier to break the next, then someday I can attack the smoking habit.

[kyoshitargaryen]

Hey, I recently read a post of yours talking about "letting go" and also about people with OCD and such... and I wanted to share a few things if that's okay.

I also have OCD, anxiety, and depression, etc... and it was really hard for me to accept that I loved someone I "created" in my mind, but I believe in the Loa and everything... However, because of OCD, I can't rest or set limits for myself. I know I need psychological treatment, but I'm afraid that the psychologist might hospitalize me or tell me what to do since I'm still underage.

But I do believe that I can get through this, it's just so hard... Can you give me some advice?

Thank you!

hey, anon!! I'm so sorry you're struggling, and I really hope I can help or reassure you somehow. to be honest with you, I really do think you should get help — if not therapy, then psychiatry. for me personally, therapy didn't help since I over-rationalize my experiences and emotions rather than feel them, but psychiatry literally changed my life. I cannot express to you enough how night and day the change was, especially for my ocd and adhd. I promise you that intrusive thoughts are so much easier to handle and brush off when you're being medically supported. the best part is, you don't need therapy to get psychiatry.

I recommend looking into telehealth, as that's what I use.

I hope that one day you reach the point where you can get help in spite of your fear. if you had a broken bone, you'd go to a hospital. if you had a busted engine, you'd go to the mechanic. your brain is the engine of your body, and sometimes it needs a tune-up.

I'm not a psychologist or professional by any means but below I'll list some things that helped me

I totally get your experience with your ocd and anxiety interfering with your overall belief and experience with LOA. I did a few things to help me get over my issues with the same;

immediately invalidate my intrusive thoughts with positive affirmations

I've spoken about this before in other posts, but I'll reiterate here. your brain doesn't recognize when you're doing something ironically or sarcastically, it only records the fact that you're doing it. so when you affirm positively, even when you don't believe in it, you're re-wiring your brain to think positively, and then you end up believing it.

this makes it so even when you do get an intrusive thought, it doesn't shake you as much if at all. the more and more you persist, the easier it gets. you won't be fighting against your brain, it'll come naturally to you. but you have to work towards that to get there.

self-soothing + self-care

some days are worse than others, so it's important that you don't blame yourself for them. do the things that you enjoy, and treat your body softly and kindly. watch a comfort show, listen to music, read.

document your triggers

learning how to recognize your triggers is so important. once I noticed what repeatedly triggered me into an ocd loop, I was able to avoid them until I was in a mentally stronger place, and then teach myself how to act in spite of them or outright invalidate them.

learning nervous system regulation techniques and skills

nervous system regulation, to put it in a very condensed way, is the practice of adjusting to various sensory and emotional information in order to prevent becoming overloaded or stressed.

as for setting limits and allowing rest, I'm not entirely sure how to help you effectively. there are some apps that make you stay off your phone, usually to study, that you could use to give you a set amount of time to decompress, meditate, realign with the LOA, etc.

the last thing I want to say is, you're a kid still — you're not meant to carry this on your own. no one, not even adults, should have so much weighing on them. it's okay to ask for help, and there's no shame in it.

believe me, I know how frustrating it is to have your medical choices in other people's hands, I've been there. but being a teenager means your brain hasn't developed enough to be responsible enough for that kind of power. the best you can do is advocate for yourself and your wants. there's also a job called patient advocate, they're at most hospitals, and you can call on them to act as your defense and to make sure that everything going on is fair.

obviously, I can't give advice on how to trust in the doctors or your family, as I have no idea how that dynamic works. don't put yourself in dangerous positions re: your family. if you have worries about your safety regarding them, it may be best to wait until you are 18, have moved out, or have medical emancipation.

I really hope this helps you, anon <3

yoshi!!

[sabrecrane]

Where to publish your books

Here we go, I'm on a roll here! So there are two ways to go about getting your books published. One of them is traditional publishing and the other is self-publishing. What's the difference? Well, I'm here to help you decide or at least get a better idea of which route you wanna go down so let's get to it!

Traditional Publishing -- What it is and the ups and downs

Traditional publishing is the most famous option to go for. I'm not too sure on the process completely myself but from what I understand and have researched, you find a publishing house and email them. After a bit of back and forth they either accept your manuscript or deny it. Being rejected is a very common thing in the writing industry so please don't get demotivated as it has happened to many famous authors!

So let's say your manuscript gets accepted. Awesome, that's one problem out the way. The publishing house will work closely with you, designers and editors to get your book out there. They will handle mostly everything although you may have to chip in here and there to promote it and when it is out there you'll obviously have to do book signings and whatnot. Before deciding to go down this route you need to be aware of a few things.

A percentage will be taken out of the profit to pay for the work the publishing house has put into making your book a reality.

Publishing houses have rules. Some are less picky than others. This means that characters may be changed, you may not get a choice when it comes to covers, summaries, etc. So pick your publishing house carefully and remember this is still your work.

Now there is one more thing I want to bring awareness too. I'm not sure how likely this is but I have heard of it happening before, I think from one of my classes? Take this small warning with a grain of salt. If your book is targeted at a specific audience but the publishing houses believe the topics discussed are too dark or too controversial, they may ask you to change it or remove it completely.

In conclusion, traditional publishing IS cheaper and it'll be easier to get your book out BUT are you willing to change some aspects of your book?

Self-Publishing -- What it is and the ups and downs

A method I have decided to go with for now at least. This method is a lot more work, a lot more promoting, a lot more expensive (but also could be cheap, depending on what your plan is) and you will have to edit yourself or hire an editor (which could be expensive). So what's the benefits of going through this route? Well, this I'm able to talk confidently about more.

Let me share with you my plan for going down this route. I am personally using an app called Inkitt and have joined TikTok, this app, and several discord servers to both promote my book and hopefully gain profit from TikTok to hire an editor. I love my characters, my world, everything, and I'd prefer to have complete creative control over it all.

Inkitt is a self-publishing app, small company, similar to Wattpad. They have another app that is called Galatea and they transfer stories from Inkitt to that app so authors can get paid. Both apps are brilliant and you can develop an audience before its moved to Galatea. On Inkitt you can also run experiments for summaries, book covers, etc, to see what your audience prefers. Allow me to share a visual example:

The downside is there's a lot of competition but at the same time that's a plus because, to let the developers of Inkitt know what's gaining traction, they have added a 'collected data' section at the very bottom of the 'Analytics' tab. Once that reaches 100%, your book will be passed over to Galatea and you'll work alongside editors. I believe you also keep all profit but I may be incorrect on that one.

I know I'm rambling a lot about this app but bear with me here because there are so many benefits on this app. While you're still creating on Inkitt you can still earn money through subscribers. On each tier you can add benefits to subscribing such as exclusive artwork, content, etc. You can also lock certain books to specific tiers, give early access to chapters for subscribers, etc.

Now going back to the analytics section of this app. Not only can you see how many people are reading each chapter, but there's also graphs to see binge rate and you can even see countries people are reading from. You can also see if you're hitting the right target audience!

While there are so many benefits to self publishing there are also downsides. The obvious ones being profit, having to promote yourself, edit yourself, and having no one to look over your work to check for any plot holes you have missed. But at the same time this means that you can work with other self publishers and read each other's work, building a small community almost which you wouldn't really get with traditional publishing.

Enough about Inkitt. You could also use Amazon KDP and Wattpad. I haven't used the second one in years but do be aware there are lots of ads which drove me away from the app in the first place. Amazon KDP is great but make sure you have your book covers and stuff ready!

[dramatisperscnae]

kyle's first moments as ion in the hand of god arc. i know it's a difficult one, i knkw.

[Send me a scene from my muse's canon to rewrite from their perspective || accepting]

There's so much. So much sensation, so much knowledge, so much power. It nearly ripped me apart, almost did, until I realized.

One is all. All is one.

It's strange, falling back to a line from a manga, but it's also somehow fitting that something so small supports something this huge. A perfect representation.

One is all. All is one. I am a part of everything, and I am everything, everywhere, all at once. The power left behind, growing, recovering, rebuilding in the sun…it feels so natural now. Like breathing. Effortless. Reflexive. Who I was is gone now.

Gone, but not forgotten. He's still here, inside; the old Kyle, unsure and worried, trying to live up to a legend he barely knew. He'll always be here. And that's a good thing, I don't want to lose him. I shouldn't lose him. But he's not who I am now. Green Lantern isn't who I am now. There's another name, a new name, rising to the surface. A name that fits me better, fits what I've become better.

But I should get home. Jen's worried about me. So are the others. I can see them from here; it's strange, how easy that is, how effortless. But I can see them, before I'm even back inside the Earth's atmosphere, let alone back in New York or on the roof of John's building. They're worried. And shocked.

I can't blame them. I would be, too. I was, before I took this power fully. Before I harnessed it. Rode it. Let it fill me the way it always should have. They're not sure what to make of it, either. Hell, I'm not sure how to explain it to them.

So I won't. Not really. How can I, when there aren't words that exist yet to describe what happened? What's still happening? What I am, now? Nero claimed he'd be a god, but that's…that's not what this is. I'm not a god. I'm still a man, I'm still me, I'm just…more, now. I can hear more, see more, do more than I ever could before. It's incredible. And acting on it, using that knowledge, is so much easier than it ever was before. It's like this power I hold wants to help, and I'm just here to guide it along. To be a conduit, not a wielder.

They're scared, when I land. Unsettled. I still can't blame them. The last man to hold this power wasn't exactly the poster-boy for righteousness. No offense, Hal, but even you will admit that's true. It'll take them time to come around. To understand that this is different. That I am different. I'm not trying to use this power, except the way I used to use my ring; I'm just directing it.

It wants to help, to be used, and so I will. I can feel where it needs to go, where I need to go, and there's so many places, but that's not a problem. It's just multitasking. I'm there, where I'm needed, and I'm here where I'm needed too. It's incredible. It would almost be overwhelming - it is overwhelming, a little - except for the mundanities of work. My art, the deadlines I need to meet, food, coffee…they'll keep me grounded.

I'm glad Hal showed me the choice I had, but I know I made the right one. My life as Green Lantern was rough, sure, but worth it. My life as Ion is only just starting.

[the-devil-less-known]

Songs to Write my Muse!

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood ━ pick 10 songs you find to give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write for your muse !

(these aren't in any particular order)

1. take me back // kongos

So, this song holds a special place in my heart (as do a lot on this playlist), and the rising desperation and plea that catches in my throat, when I sing along with this song makes me think of him, crying out with no answer and trapped in the dark, grappling with the hopelessness and inevitably of never being heard

2. cure for a loner // gingergreen mashup

Also heavily resonates with me, the feeling of rising stress, trapped in a fog and overwhelmed as the world goes on and time slips by, this- disconnect of putting on a show of happiness while inside feeling so hollow, and it coming across a bit manic, like a jester in a circus pulled by strings; isolation would be so much easier, safer, better... Everything's too much, but there's no use for it, the show must go on

3. moth to a flame // swedish mafia + the weeknd

Man, I'm just telling on myself at this point, haha; but this one is Lilith to Lucifer; more specifically about anyone he gets close to, and his guilty thoughts about what she would say if she were to find out that he was trying to move on. That desperate attachment and the pain it causes him, to stay alone or try to let go, trapped in limbo and aching... and it being by her grace that anything good happens after, that guilt of betrayal even after being discarded; and never being enough, an amusement that can be useful

4. forgive the world // nessa bennett

It was a hard choice between this song and another one by the same artist (dying on the inside) since they were some of the first songs I listened to that made me think of him; not having any control, desperate to hold onto the people around him, not wanting to be discarded, willing to do anything, it makes me think of his relationship with Charlie and how it hurts to hold on while she drifts further away into what feels like assured death, but needing to maintain the illusion that nothing is wrong, not wanting to burden her or chase her away like Lilith with his dark emotions and history

5. brave // josh groban + peter hollens

A message to both himself and often to Charlie when he was younger; to stay hopeful, brave; I used to play this song often when I went out on late night runs on my grandparent's farm, it kept me strong when everything felt like it was falling apart, and I can see him comforting himself with this

6. fix me up // a firm handshake

So, I couldn't just put the whole album on here, so kept it to just two... But I knew the singer when he was alive, I used to go to school with him when I was a child, and his music left a mark that won't ever leave me; fix me up is about saying goodbye, that nothing will ever change, and there's no saving, but even so to offer comfort... Lucifer cannot die, he will never be free, and there's no consolation for it... But it's alright, it'll be okay, don't cry for him, it can't be changed, so it's okay to accept it

7. sandcastles // a firm handshake

I'm getting emotional here, haha, but this song was definitely something sang to comfort Charlie, helpless to do much else, not even able to promise heaven someday... But isn't nice to dream? Of an Eden? Of a true paradise, someday, to reunite together when all is said and done? It.can never be so for him, but... if there was such a place, it would be in his heart where her memory would rest, everything for her, so don't cry, please, he is here

8. lies // halsey + quavo

Lucifer and Lilith core again, I feel like my heart's being ripped out haha,, the lie was always better than the truth that he could feel coming unstoppably, like a train coming down the tracks, the inevitably, but give him a lie, just one, let him live in the lie if nothing else; he knows his use is running out, she's getting tired of him, but he can't let go...please... tell him lies, let him believe in this lie

9. tired // emily finchum (anne october)

The eternal exhaustion, unable to stop the pain welling up like a fountain and tears flowing out and out, there's nothing left, nothing... left but the ennui of existence that will never end; don't worry, he's just tired, it'll be fine; just fine...

10. the highwayman // loreena mckennet

This one rises the feeling of helplessness and still wanting to fight, even if the end will always be in tragedy, the build up makes me want to scream and struggle, but I know how it ends, it will always end, but left helplessly enraged anyway and that's how Lucifer feels to me, haha, it hurts

11. simmer // hayley williams + violet orlandi

One extra for y'all because it was really genuinely hard to settle on just ten, and I could NOT leave this one out by sheer nature of Lucifer's temper, and how it's barely restrained beneath the surface, buried in his grief and hopelessness, but, but when it comes to anything to do with Charlie that might cause her further harm (Alastor) or with Heaven finding out what she's trying to do, it rises up, blistering and hot, it may be inevitable but like Hell will he let it happen sooner than it must, simmering simmering always, furious

(but these are just the songs I narrowed down and agonized over, haha, honestly anything by a firm handshake, marina and the diamonds early albums, some select songs from halsey and billie ellish, and a bunch of other random songs by various artists if people want, I'll share his playlist)

Tagged by: @radioiaci

Tagging: @gabriel-eveningstar , @brokendreamscreation , @ask-husk-anything , @charliechasingrainbows , @hellborn-princess , @e-m-p-error , @maidsavagery

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Beginning of the Holidays

So, the actual performance review.

First thing I got was: "Oh, no, you shouldn't have filled in your parts of the appraisal form during non-work hours! Take that time at the end of the day!" Thus my break before the little bit of overtime has begun twenty minutes early.

Yeah, basically, no end of thanks for all the work I've put in the last few months. The discussion of "This is taking a toll on my physical and mental health" did come up; he does recognise that I am doing myself a bad. So he was entirely on board with sending me a weekly update of what the staffing situation looks like as far as he can tell, so at least I have something to use to moderate my workload, and there was mention of "getting a couple of temps in". I gather they haven't done that yet because they did just move to a new office and there are apparently a few teething troubles, which would be a bad environment to move a temp into. Also we may be getting at least one of the regular staffers back after the holidays, so that's something.

Beyond that, it was the usual "I will accept the 'exceeds expectations' from my managers because my expectations for myself are unreasonable" thing. My willingness to help out, my attention to detail, my communication, and the general quality of my work all got praised. I apparently excel in all areas and am a credit to the department, and they would not be without me. Which I figure is why the "We'll be getting temps in when we get the office sorted out, so we don't kill you". Not to mention the hardware thing. Because most times, it'll take forever to get a request for new hardware through to IT, and management will try to cheap out if they can. Scruffman and Head Honcho, however, are going, "Seriously, if there's anything you need - anything at all that will make your job easier - please, please tell us and we will get it for you. You don't even have to come in to pick it up; we'll courier it to you!" So I am valued. They just don't have a lot of choices right now.

Of course, they could make Temp and New Girl work a little harder, but that's Scruffman's non-confrontational thing and I don't think we're getting that fixed overnight. Though I have to wonder how their performance reviews looked...

Anyway, quick trip to the corner shop for snacks, and then a little bit of overtime (because the girls were slacking again today), and then I will sit down, roast myself a chicken leg, and watch one of my Christmas-gifts-to-myself - I bought myself Repo! The Genetic Opera on DVD. And then maybe video games, if the pain meds kick in and I stop feeling like death warmed up. But hey, at least I have various warm fuzzies, what with good performance review and friend really enjoying the birthday gift I got them and getting to turn off the alarm for a whole week.

It's the little things.

[ryndicate]

Quick Commissions!! Fund my anime addiction!

TLDR; taxes are fucked and so am I </3

Ok it's not actually funding my addiction. So long story short, apparently(?) the tax forms changed last year and I didn't notice the change until September,,, which meant I went 9 months of the year without paying anything into taxes. I didn't think it would be this bad but now that I've filed, it turns out I owe a laughably high amount and i have until July to pay it back :')

There's no way I'd be able to pay it off on commissions alone so I'm doing little comms to help offset my spending and make it easier to put money towards the debt.

The categories are more for cuteness than they are what I'm actually going to spend them on. Won't lie, it'll probably be going into my food budget or paying for my gas.

ㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤ     ㅤ ㅤㅤ ꘏ Blog Rules Apply ꘏

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤ꘏ Fandom/Characters I will write for ꘏

ㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤ     ㅤ ㅤㅤ ꘏ 1/3 slots taken ꘏

Buy me a blind bag clip — $10

1k-1.5k drabble, all content types are acceptable but this category will be best quality for sfw/suggestive due to limited length

But if you're not looking for a lot of background info and just want something horny, I got you.

Buy me a manga — $15

2k drabble/ficlet, preferably nsfw/dc

Buy me a little figure — $25*

3k-4k fic, nsfw/dc

* Price will mark up to a discussed price if the length passes 4k

Buy me a BIG figure — $60*

7.5k is the max, will not be less than 6k.

* This category is DC only because for me to commit to something of this length, it needs to be something that aligns closely with my interests or I'd worry about getting it done and actually being quality work.

Alternative Commission Options!!

Buy me an actual coffee — $5

I will write you a quick little coffee date/meet cute with a character of your choice! around 500 words

Sponsor a WIP* — $20

Let's say you want to help out but don't really have an idea in mind,, I'll send you a list of my drabble/ficlet wips for you to browse and whichever one you pick will be placed on a higher priority list for me to write and will be dedicated to you!

* Any of my series updates and longfic wips will not be available for this option, sorry!

To request your commission!

Fill out this form! I'll contact you from whatever blog name you provide either from here or my main (@darlingsanzu) and we'll talk a little more your desired price and prompt to make sure I understand what you want and we'll go from there! (Payment will process either through Kofi, or directly from PayPal.)

I will try to be as timely as possible :) starting with 3 commissions, but every time I finish one I'll update the availability

I will be putting as much love as I can into them, like I do with all my writing, but dark content is the winner of my heart so that's where you'll really get the most of your dollar :3

Donations are also okay if you are just that super sweet kind of awesome, here's the link to what I am affectionately dubbing my little cookie jar. Rewarded with nose boops and kisses!

Thank you so much if you read this far! I'm really thankful for your time 💞

ㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤ     ㅤ ㅤㅤ Reblogs are incredibly appreciated!!

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

I cant remember if i already sent in an ask, but i dont know what to do. Seven months ago, my dad relapsed back into his alcoholism. One night he got drunk, left my mom in an empty parking lot where my brother and I had to pick her up, and when we got home he had trashed all her things and threw her stuff out onto the front steps. It isn't the first time he's done this, my whole child it's all I can really remember him doing, but for awhile things were okay. Once he saw us though, he was an animal. He attacked my brother and they fought and we all had to pin my dad down while he screamed he'd kill us all. Once we thought it was okay to let him up, he lunged for my mom and my brother took the hit and they fought again. I had to call his brother, my uncle, to try and reason or stop him.

He nearly starts fighting my uncle, breathing heavily and his eyes just wild. I remember staring him dead in the face while he threatened he'd put a 40 in our skulls and kill us. That night we grabbed what we could and slept at my uncle's. The next morning, he felt guilty and apologized repeatedly but I blocked his number and refused to speak or see him. I still live at home though, meaning I'm still in a way in contact with him.

I'm done. I can't take it anymore, and what's worse is I'm alone in this decision. My dad is by no means a perfect person, I'm not either, nobody is. But this was too much and I've made my choice. My mother keeps trying to convince me to heal and accept my dad because he's an addict and given different circumstances, if I had an addiction or eating disorder, they wouldn't just abandon me right? But it's not the same, it really isn't.

I do have an eating disorder, I have CPTSD, I'm in pain and have been for a long time but I handle it and it's not something I let them see or know. What's his excuse. He's been abusive, manipulative, vile, and I can't forgive him.

I guess recently my dad had a small heart attack, and who knows maybe he'll die soon. But I don't feel anything about it. There's no anger, no sadness, no rage, just nothing. Maybe I'm in shutdown. Regardless, I'm not sure what's right anymore. I'm going to be saving up to move out, and if I don't have enough then I'll live in my car. He can kick me out for all I care. I can't stay anymore, not here.

Rent is insane where I live, I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to save or if I'll even achieve this goal, but I need to do something. Everyday gets worse and I can't keep waiting for another bomb to go off, or for my mother to comfort me by saying "the bomb is okay, accept it." She asked me to go a therapy session with her you know, mother daughter therapy. At first I agreed but after what she said today, she can forget it. Even after all this time, she doesn't understand. She never will.

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry about what you've been through. There is absolutely no obligation to forgive him. It's reasonable to resent him even if his behavior is related to substance abuse or whatever other excuse is given. Even if someone adequately takes accountability for their actions (which it sounds like he doesn't) you still don't have to forgive them, and it doesn't mean you aren't allowed to still feel hurt. It almost sounds like your mom is an enabler. You've seen a long pattern of violent, threatening, and hurtful behavior from your father, and so it makes sense why it's so hard to be convinced that he's something better. It's okay to not worry or even grieve if your dad passes away, especially in context. Do consider that if these violent episodes continue, it may be necessary to call the authorities, though it can definitely be easier said than done.

Although I completely understand your reasons for not wanting to go to therapy with your mom, being able to speak with a therapist could potentially help you a lot in processing these experiences and your feelings surrounding them, regardless of whether or not your mom benefits from it. It could be an opportunity to meet with that therapist individually as well, and they may be able to see the situation for what it truly is.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions feel free to add on, otherwise I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[djarinsbeskar]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! So close, just in time for spooky season 🎃🧙‍♀️😈🔮🕯️

👉🏼👈🏼

Do you mind if I ask… how does it feel to have a work of yours published? It has always seemed so daunting to me. What was hard about it? What was an easier part of the process? Have you thought about publishing before this? I spend hours in front of my computer, researching and going over plot, word choice, sentence structure, etc. etc. Are you relieved for September 22nd to come? I’m curious to peek into publishing as an experience. 🫣

It's so surreal quite frankly! In a manner of speaking, I'm used to having people read my work through here and on AO3, so I was surprised by how nervous I was about putting an entire book out there. Part of me thinks it's because of expectations, if that makes any sense. With fanfic, it's free and it's usually within the confines of a fandom that affords the pieces some leniency. With an original book, you're expecting people to spend hard earned money on it and, it might just be the perfectionist in me, but I want to write something worth spending money on.

I think you bring up some really fantastic questions and I'm all about sharing my experiences to make things easier for others who might want to do the same! So feel free to send in any questions and I'll answer them all as concisely as possible!

I think the first thing you want to be sure about when it comes to publishing, is if you're willing to wear many different hats all at once. You're the writer, the PR person, the marketing person, the advertising person etc etc. You are everything to this book and one thing I discovered is that, you're rarely going to be an expert in all of them!

This is why community is important. Having a group of friends or writers you trust who are in the same situation or are interested in the industry. Because I guarantee, they're going to be the ones you touch base with on everything. From getting a second opinion on a social media post, to understanding a vague or confusing requirement made by a distributor or market you plan to sell your book on, to just the support you need as a writer. Writing a book can be a lonely thing, especially when you're not getting the serial validation and feedback we can grow accustomed to by posting chapters of fics week after week. That makes your inner circle, if you want to call it that, invaluable to your overall experience.

It's always been a dream of mine to be an author, to finish a book and see it bound. So, I knew I had the drive, if my confidence was lacking in other areas. It really wasn't until one of mutuals here asked if I planned to publish, though, that I really gave it some serious thought as an adult (and not just the dreams of a child). I think if you love the story you want to tell, are open and aware that it's not going to be everyone's cup of tea and can accept that, as well as being willing to be your own biggest advocate, you can do it!

Honestly, I cannot WAIT for launch day. It'll be my first, and when I think back to when I first started turning this fic into a book, I knew nothing so I've learned so much along the way that I'm actually excited to get started on the next book to apply all those lessons going forward!

Thank you for getting in touch! This ask really made me think and as a result, made me so super happy to see how far I've come. So don't hesitiate to drop any more questions that you have here, or in my DMs. I'm always happy to chat!

[tonysaintborgi]

Sorry for the heavy question but how do you deal with internalized homophbia? I never realized I had it until very recently and I'm not sure how to come to fully come to terms with it

I'm also trying to come to terms with a lot of other things that are probably related too so maybe someday I'll ask for advice on them too lmao

I think you've made the most important step by acknowledging it. That's the thing about internalized biases of any sort, it's so deep down in ya that it's easy to ignore. They often go unquestioned. But you're questioning it. That's the big thing. You'll find that, the more you question it, the more it will shrink away. it may take time, a war of attrition, but keep at it. You got this. Unfortunately there's no magic spell to get it to go away (or else I'd share), but you're on the right path.

If you're looking for a way to be proactive beyond just challenging your thought patterns, I'd reccomend immersing yourself in the parts of the culture and art that make you uncomfortable. Sit with that discomfort. Yeah, it's not pleasant to unpack, but it'll do you good. Empathy grows as we learn, so go learn.

But, assuming that you're a queer individual, I think it's also important to love yourself. Easier said than done, right, I know. But it's important to know that you're great, whoever you may be now, and whoever you will grow into. The more you learn to be happy with who you are and who you could potentially be, the easier it will be for you to accept your future self, whatever they may become. And the more you're cool with yourself for being who you are, the more you'll be cool with others for being who they are. Not everyone in your life may enjoy the unfiltered you, but you gotta ask yourself, is it better to stifle yourself for the sake of bonds or is it better to unhinder yourself and make new bonds, should any old ones tear? It's your life, you get to make that choice, but you probably already know what the best answer to that question is.

and as a final thought, remember, nobody is perfect and we're all growing. we live in a fucked up society, bro. that's where you got these internalized biases from in the first place. so don't be hard on yourself for not ridding yourself of them yet. in fact, treat yourself with compassion - you're attempting to grow into a better person. Yelling at yourself for not being perfect will just make it more difficult to keep trudging forward.

but you're gonna keep trudging forward, right? here, take my paw. I'll walk with ya.

[animasola86]

I have a question about infatuated…if darling had never been willing right in the beginning, would sir have forcefully taken her anyway? Or tried to lure her in? What if halfway through like now, darling suddenly decides she doesn’t want this anymore? 😭

Good question(s)! Let me ramble a bit under the cut!

Well, if she wouldn't have been willing, this would have been a completely different story, well, to an extent. With how it is right now, I tried to keep the noncon to a minimum, so I made her want it, even if she bit off more than she could chew at the end. Yes, this is still sliding on the edge of noncon and dubcon, I am well aware and won't say it's not, but I wanted it to be more than just "guy takes girl and keeps her as his sex toy", I wanted her to grow into her role and accept it, so I made her submissive from the very beginning.

Let's look back at the scene in the club in chapter 1: Darling looked at him, wanted him to pay attention to her, and he did, they both wanted to meet each other in the middle in a way. So what if he had been the one to initiate the contact? Imagine him seeing her on the dance floor, oblivious to his stares, would he have taken her anyway? Maybe.

I hinted at it before, he had many girls before her, how he got them? I never said, maybe they came to him, maybe he went to them, could be both.

He did drug her once he decided to take her with him, to make it easier for him, so in a way he did take her forcefully. She may have agreed to his advances (wanted him to take her virginity) and later to play along in his schemes and become his submissive, but she never agreed to go with him in the first place.

But, as is the title of this story, she has been very infatuated with him from the very beginning, and she told herself she'd be stupid to deny a guy like him, so she didn't even give herself a choice in potentially denying him.

Also, she is an orphan, lived most of her life alone or under the radar of everyone around her, so to have a rich, hot guy pay her this kind of attention, even if it was for his own benefit and pleasure, is something she never experienced before, and she doesn't want to go back to her shitty little life before she met him.

So technically, with how I built this all up, she wouldn't decide to not want this anymore. She's falling more and more for him, no matter how he treats her, because she doesn't necessarily need him to love her back, she just needs his attention, and she has it if she plays by his rules.

But in the hypothetical case that she does decide she doesn't want this anymore: well, she may try to get away, sneak off somehow, if he allows her the space that is. And if he doesn't, if he keeps going, she'll have to endure because what else can she do? She can't fight him.

Most unrealistic approach: she may try to hurt him back? But I just can't see her do anything like that, not to him, not with how he lured her into his realm. If there would be a contact on the outside of their little bubble, maybe she'll get ideas on what to do to break free, but there is none, she is all alone with him.

So, I don't know, I guess it's up to you to imagine what may happen. As I want her to be happy one day, I won't make her change her mind about him now, it'll only make her miserable, and she already has those moments sometimes anyway.

Interesting question though, and I can only repeat myself: it'd be a very different story, even darker, so much darker. And I need at least a little bit of light in my stories, even if it's just the flickering shine of a damaged neon light XD

Thank you for your ask and for letting me ramble on about my story and characters! <3