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wintrwinchestr · 5 months

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obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot.

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night.

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest.

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him.

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal.

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs.

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

“No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him.

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock.

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?”

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat.

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment.

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer.

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought.

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it.

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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artists-ally · 8 months

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{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien Vanssera {Pt.2}

Welp. Here we are. Didn't know this was gonna happen. I had ZERO INTENTIONS of writing a part two but I basically got cyber bullied into making another so here ya go fuckers. Someone literally threatened to stop taking their meds so to whoever that was I hope you get to keep your kidney! Enjoy! This part is inspired by this song.

Word Count: 6,111

Warnings: ANGST (yall thought you’re gonna get a happy ending? HAHAHAH) Some pretty negative self talk.

Tagging: @bubybubsters @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @anuttellaa @lookingforamissingpage @thehighlordishere @crazylokonugget

Summary: In the days and weeks that follow your downfall with Lucien, he has no fucking clue how to go about life without you. He can’t cope. And he desperately wants to fix everything with you.

~~~~~~~

LUCIEN’S POV

I have made the biggest mistake of my entire life. I thought that would be reserved for not being able to protect Jesminda. No. This… this is… I don’t even know.

I’m just standing on the sidewalk, staring at our- her home. At the rustic, auburn door we painted. At its brass knob, at the rusty, creaking hinges that would ring through the house when someone came in. At the little potted plant in the corner, the vines spilling out of it.

I’ll never be back here again.

I’ll never get to hear her laugh.

I’ll never get to taste her new recipes.

I will never be able to take all that I said back. That is the most haunting feeling of it all.

I’m an awful person. After all she’s done for me. After saving my life– on more than one occasion– I went and did nothing in return. I gave her nothing for her endless kindness. All I was capable of doing was destroying the one person in my life who has given me everything I’ve ever wanted.

Unconditionally. She always loved me unconditionally. How could I have been so blind and naive to it? How did I never see it?

Gods every single time she made me something to eat, a recipe to try… she was basically shoving the bond in my face, hoping I would see it. And I never ever considered it. I was so lost in Elain. Lost in the fact that I finally had feelings for someone after Jesminda… Not once did I think it could be Yn.

I don’t deserve her. I never did. I was a bitter, rotten shell of a man when she met me. She dragged me by the arms to her house to fix me. She thought I was worthy of being saved when my own father thought the opposite. Yn put me back together. She made me who I am. And this is the thanks I give her?

Elain has said all of ten sentences to me in the past year. I haven’t been able to do anything but replay every single one of them in my head. A thousand times– a hundred thousand times. I wish I couldn’t. It’s exhausting. Constantly thinking of her. But I don’t have a choice.

I like the feeling of being able to feel again. But at the cost of Yn? At the complete sacrifice of all I’ve known for the past century? My rock? My best friend? Nothing is worth more.

But it is far too late to do anything about it. I’ve lost her.

I want her back.

Yn did things to me that no one else could. She just seemed to know when things were wrong. She always knows what to say, when to say it, and how. She never tells you what you want to hear, it’s always what you need. She is the most well rounded person I’ve ever met. She’s never afraid to feel her emotions.

I envy that skill.

I’ve always hid my feelings deep down. It took years to decipher them again. But it was Yn who made me do it. She always fought for me, fought me for me. Yn never let me do it alone. Refused to, actually. Was there every step of the way and never told me I was taking too long or wasting her time.

I get it now.

And there is nothing I can do. I have nowhere to go. Tears scald my eyes as I trudge down the little path that we beat into the grass. Day in and day out.

I remember when we picked this place. We had only been in Velaris for a week or two when we stumbled across it. It was run down and needed a new roof. As a thank you for keeping Feyre safe on our journey across the Courts, Rhysand gifted it to us. Complete with a new roof, new furniture, a new kitchen for Yn to cook in. And he let us be. Well, let her be. I still had my debts to pay off.

And then I met Elain and… fuck. Everything went to shit after that.

There is no way of processing all of these emotions at once. These very real feelings I still have for Elain. And these all-of-a-sudden very fucking real feelings I now have for Yn. It’s how I imagine imploding feels like. My body wants to cave into itself and never fold back out.

I pray to the Cauldron that I do self destruct. This feeling, a mixture between irrational rage and betrayal… I don’t wish it upon another living soul. And Gods know I’d sell mine to change everything I’ve just done.

I don’t even know how I ended up at the Town House. All of a sudden I was just standing in front of it. I normally resent coming here, but for some reason I was relieved to see the bricks and busted up cobblestone sidewalk. Maybe no one would be here; Rhys was more often than not at the River House with Feyre and Nyx, indulging in the life of parenthood. Nesta and Cassian were probably somewhere in the House of Wind with Elain, Mor at Rita’s, Amren with Varian, and who the hell knows where Azriel is.

I can’t wait to be alone to scream.

Fuck, the door is locked. Of course the door is locked, no one’s here. It takes every bit of control in my shiver-ridden body to not rip the door off its hinges. And it takes even more control to not collapse against the door and break down for the whole street to see.

The lock clicks and the door opens.

I force myself to appear relaxed. I wipe my tears and brush away my loose strands of hair. No use. My face is probably as red as the burning self hatred inside my twisted heart.

“What are you doing here Lucien?” The High Lord asks.

I gulp. Of all the people, it had to be him? At least it’s not Azriel, I think. I might hate him more than I hate myself. For actually getting Elain’s attention. Yn was right, I am selfish. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were in.”

“Did you leave something?” I don’t move, and I stay deathly still. Rhys looks me head to toe, and I know he can scent me from a mile away. “Lucien, what the fuck did you do?”

“Stay the fuck out of my head,” I snarled, pointing a finger at his chest.

“I don’t need to read your thoughts. Your face says it all.” Rhys crosses his arms over his chest, “Look, we’ve all told you that Elain is hard to reach these days. She isn’t worth-”

“This… this doesn’t have anything to do with Elain.” I lied. He seemed to know it. “Can I just come in?”

Rhys just steps aside, shutting the door behind me. “I don’t really have time for-”

“I fucked up.”

“Clearly.”

“Rhysand,” I said. So full of disgust. He looked at me with a blank expression. One I have seen too many times to not know what comes next. I eased up my tone. “Is anyone else here?”

“No,” he answers, moving around me and heading into a study on the other side of the living room.

I can’t help but think of how we all gathered in that living room a few months ago for Solstice. Exchanging gifts and drinks and smiles and stories. I vividly remember making Yn laugh so hard she tipped her head over the arm of the couch, sending her wine tumbling to the ground. The stain still on the small rug almost makes me smile, and it almost makes me burst into tears.

“I ruined everything in my life. Yn’s gone.” I could feel the air freeze around me. “Not like, gone gone but she’s… I don’t think I’ll ever be seeing her again.”

“So this is because of Elain.”

I bit my tongue so hard I thought I’d bite it off completely. But I sighed, the tears coming with it. “Yes.” A really long pause. “She told me I’m-”

“You’re Yn’s mate?”

“Yes.”

“And you never knew because you were so focused on Elain.” “Is that supposed to be a question?”

“It was, but you just gave me your answer,” Rhys sat. “Do you want me to keep guessing or are you going to tell me what happened?”

I took the biggest breath I could, steading my words. “I missed the opening of her restaurant because I was with Elain.”

Rhysand looked at me with such revulsion that I thought he might put me through a wall. Those wicked, violet eyes could’ve boiled my bones. For a split second I wished he would. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I don’t think there were enough words in the world for how much of an awful person I was.

“There are things in this world that we sacrifice in this world Lucien,” Rhys said.

Hesitantly, “I know.”

“And Yn gave up the biggest of them all. She shut her mouth to let you be happy. She did what I did for Feyre until she realized what situation she was in. You are one spineless bastard for doing anything but giving your life to her.”

“I know.”

“Have you any idea what you’ve done to her? She gave you everything you could ever ask for. From the moment the two of you stepped in my Court I could tell she only had eyes for you. When you are in the room you’re the only one she looks at. How could you have not known?”

“I don’t know…” “Yes, you do.”

I plunged my nails into my palms. “For Cauldron's sake Rhysand of course I know.”

“Then why did you continue to ignore Yn?”

“Because I couldn’t ever let myself think a female like her would like such a broken, dismantled and lost soul like mine.” Rhysand stared at me. “When Yn pulled me from the border to fix me, she spent every waking moment of her life stringing my mind and body into one piece. If I let myself think for even a second that it was anything other than kindness, I would’ve gone mad.”

“Would it have been so terrible to love her?”

“I’ve always loved her. I just never thought I’d be allowed to love her the way she loves me.”

“Because of Elain?” “Because of Elain.”

Rhys blew out a breath, sitting down on the corner of his desk. “So, let me see if I have all of this correct. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for Yn because you thought you were unworthy. Instead, you sabotaged both of your happiness for Elain simply because she was your mate and you just wanted to feel something?”

“It sounds so much more fucked when you say it outloud.” I rubbed my hands over my tired, burning eyes. “And it’s not just because she’s my mate, Rhys. I genuinely like her. She’s… she has the potential to be so sweet. I’ve seen glimpses of it, heard stories from Feyre and Nesta. Why won’t she let me see?”

“You are still clueless, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Here you are, a ruined man because you drove away your best friend, and you’re still worried about someone who doesn’t want you. Pathetic. You are a selfish son of a bitch.”

“I can’t just ignore Elain. It’s impossible to think of anything else but her and how I can help her.” “Lucien,” Rhysand stopped me from going on another tangent. “Maybe start considering that she doesn’t want you.”

“What?” My lip trembled. “N-No she… we have a bond. It’s there she just needs time. I’m her mate, she’ll want one eventually.”

“Just like Yn will want one?” His eyes were as viscous as the tone of his voice. “You are doing the same thing to Yn that Elain is doing to you. You understand how that feels. Now imagine that Elain was the one you found on the border of the Spring Court and you spent decades nursing her mind back into her body. Recreating her personality and passions. Wouldn’t you be a little fucking irate if she started showing interest in another male after all you did for her?”

I froze.

This was so much deeper than I ever thought it could be. But I could see it. Bringing Elain back to herself all for it to be thrown away by another male. Azriel filled that roll, and I was filled with raw fury at the mere thought of that happening.

“So now you see what Yn has been dealing with. And Gods, Lucien, she has been dealing with it for a long while. What you did was wrong, unjust, and unfair. And for you to be with Elain on the day of her grand opening, where all of us just were, is… that may be unforgivable.”

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven for what I’ve just done…”

My shoulder hunch, and my chest cracks. I am a bleeding mess of tears. I can barely stand as I openly sob in front of Rhys. I’m surprised when he shoves a chair under me instead of letting me crumble to the floor in my self induced agony. And I’m even more surprised when he puts a hand on my shoulder.

It’s Yn. It’s always been Yn. There is nothing in this world that can compare to her or her kindness or her love. What a fool I have been to not take the hand that was given me. What a selfish, self-serving waste of a man I have been to her.

I can’t take it. I have to have her back. I have to fix this. I have to. I have to. I have to.

I stand. “Woah, what are you doing?” Rhys tried to get me to sit down.

“Yn- I have to fix this with Yn-”

“No,” Rhys slams me back into the chair. “You are not going to march back over there.”

“I have to,” I yelled. “I can’t let her kick me out without her knowing that I’m sorry. That I’ll do anything she wants me to to win her back. I can’t be without her, I need her.”

“She kicked you out?” I nodded. “You’re not going anywhere. She clearly doesn’t want to see you. Nothing you could say to her would suffice. Especially right now. She needs time. She needs space. If I find out that you go back to your- her house, I’ll drop you back in the Spring Court, do you understand me?”

I nod viciously.

“Good,” Rhys let out a heavy breath. “You can have your old room back. Nothing in it but a few storage boxes. Everything is otherwise untouched.” Great. My old memories to haunt me. Just what I needed. For a very short week we stayed here. Yn’s room was right across from mine. Just another reminder of everything that’s happened between now and then.

I slump in the seat, letting tears trickle down my nose and onto my knee. Watching them evaporate and dry, just for the material to be soaked again. “I’m so sorry Yn…”

I heard Rhys whirl around, and I could feel the tension across the room. He probably thinks I’m mad. I might as well be.

More footsteps sounded than people in the house and Cassian walked in the room. Luckily I was facing away from him. “Don’t tell me he’s a part of our special detachment.”

I rolled my eyes. Cassian, ever the charming.

“No, he’s… well, he’ll be living here for a little while.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“It’s none of your business,” I snapped. No one spoke. I sighed for what felt like the billionth time today. “Sorry.”

“What happened?” Cassian asked, coming to stand next to me, his body reeking of sweat and dirt. All I had to do was lift my head and I think he understood enough. That or Rhys told him. “I won’t say anything cause I’ll probably just make it worse.”

“Probably,” Rhys nodded.

“Probably.” My eyes burned, so did my skin. “I have to get all my stuff out tomorrow. She told me to.”

“Then you’ll do it tomorrow. Not tonight, tomorrow. Respect her wishes, or I will make you.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“We’ll be back,” Rhys grabbed a few things from his desk then ushered Cassian out the door. “Don’t do anything. Just stay here.”

It could’ve been twenty minutes or two hours until I finally moved upstairs. Forcing myself to not go to Yn’s room was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. All the conversations we had, all the plans we made. It’s where she first got the idea of her restaurant. She literally had a dream and made it a reality.

I’d be lying if I said I told her how proud of her I was. I never have. Why have I never told her that? Could I really have been that caught up in Elain that… Wow. It’s funny how you only realize after the fact.

My bed caught me as I collapsed into it, tucking my knees into my chest. I am such a loser. Pathetic. Just like Rhys said. My heart would burn up and die at this rate. It was a mystery how I hadn’t burst into flames yet.

There are so many things I need, and Yn takes the top of the list. She had always been everything I needed. When I needed comfort, I went to Yn. When I needed solutions, I went to Yn. When I needed answers, to be heard, to be validated, to be loved… who was I supposed to go to now? Definitely not Rhys or Cassian, and certainly not Elain.

Maybe for the first time ever I wanted nothing to do with Elain. I didn’t want to see her. I couldn’t care less if I ever saw her again. Her presence in my life has done nothing but tear my other relationships apart.

She’s the reason I’m here in this mess.

_____

At some ridiculous hour of the night– morning? Is that the sun?– I heard the door open. I shot up, then deflated down. I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t at home. And that wasn’t Yn walking in the door.

Every thought and emotion rushed back into my head, creating an endless tangle of thoughts. The next more horrid and self destructive than the last. I deserve it.

Missing the opening of her restaurant, Latibule–an ancient word for refuge or safe place–was the biggest mistake of my life. I will never be able to make that up to her. I turned her biggest accomplishment into a slimy, diseased memory. I ruined what was supposed to be the best night of her life.

I’ve let her down in a way I’ll never be able to repair.

Even Rhys and Feyre were there last night. And I wasn’t. Nesta and Cassian. Azriel, Amren, Mor… they were all there, supporting her. And I was with Elain. She probably wanted to go, and I was there, holding her back.

I need to get out of this room before it crushes me whole.

I could see the sun just barely peeking over the Sidra when I stepped outside, cloak wrapped tightly around my head and shoulders to keep out the early morning bite.

There wasn’t a soul around, Velaris still blissfully asleep besides this one small corner store that sold hot tea and pastries all hours of the day. Rustling in my pocket was just enough for a peach turnover and a cherry blossom tea.

The bell chimed above the door as I walked in, knocking my boots against the step to not track dirt in.

“Early start to the day, Luc?” Ms. Immy smiled from behind the counter, polishing a few mugs before moving to come to the display case, packed full of delicious goods, savory and sweet.

“Unfortunately,” I sighed. “Couldn’t really sleep.”

“Well I am glad to have you in, the usual?”

“That would be great, Ms. Immy.”

The lovely owner of the bakery was Ms. Immy. One of the older members of the Night Court but as wise as they come. She’s the kindest, most gentle fae to roam Prythian. With her soft, sage green eyes and long, slender ears adorn with piercings, Ms. Immy was by far one of my favorites here.

The kettles whistled behind her as she dipped a tea bag into my mug. Ms. Immy always had designated mugs for her regular customers. Mine was made of green clay, mostly green with a white oval on the front with two lines of flowers. In the center of it all was a simple fox. She once told me that I had the spirit of one of those extinct creatures in the human lands. That I was reserved, and at my core I fiercely protected those I cared about.

If only I had been able to protect Yn from myself.

Her mug had been one crafted of the moon and the stars. With all the constellations of the Gods being lifted into the air by the magic of the Cauldron. Ms. Immy had told her it was a visual representation that Yn was a great reminder of the past to the current world. That she was lost art that was to never be forgotten.

There is nothing I want more than for the rest of the world to be loved as fiercely as she had loved me.

“Here is your tea, Lucien,” Ms. Immy set the mug on the counter, pushing up the glass case and plucking a peach turnover out. “And for you as well.”

“Thank you,” I tried to smile. I stared at the blackberry tart next to the peach turnovers. Yn’s go-to. It made my blood run cold.

I put the coins in her hand before I could begin to cry again and scooted out the door as another person was coming in.

The table and chairs outside were hard and covered in a light mist. It creaked as I sat, just as it always did. I should've sat anywhere else, but my body naturally drifted to this exact spot. It had a good view of the street so Yn and I could watch the people walk by. Pretending we know every bit of their personal lives and beyond. Make up extravagant stories and adventures for the most boring looking individuals in hopes they may one day get to go on them in another lifetime.

Gods she is everywhere. She’s in the tavern across the street, in the stones on the ground that we used to kick on our walks. She’s in the sunrise, the same color of her heated cheeks filling the sky. There is no escaping what used to be my whole world.

Silently, I let a few tears roll down my cheeks. I ought to be ashamed of showing so much emotion in public, but for some reason I can’t find the will to care.

The door chimes and footsteps go back down the street. The door chimes again.

“My fox boy,” Ms. Immy says so softly I almost don’t hear it over the roar in my ears. “What troubles you so badly you can’t sleep?”

I bite my lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. “I don’t know how to fix something that I’ve done.”

“You missed the opening of Yn’s restaurant.” She says.

I nod. “How did you know?”

“Because I did not see you there, fox boy.”

“She kicked me out, Ms. Immy. I deserved it, every bit of what she said was true.”

“I think that is true, Lucien,” Ms. Immy came and sat in Yn’s spot, folding her hands in her lap, letting out a breath of air as she extended her old, feeble legs. “Nobody is happy with what you’ve done but-”

“I didn’t mean to blow her off Ms. Immy I just-”

“But,” she cuts me off with a pointed look. “I think you are a very lost soul. For the first time in your life you are truly free. No High Lord to obey, no throne to fight for, no war to fight in. Just a High Lord to serve and to respect. You have everything you could ask for, and yet you have no idea what to do with it.”

She’s right. She’s always right. “I want to fix it. I have to.”

“I am afraid that may not be what the spirit of the Gods wants.” Why is it that I get called fox boy and Yn get’s called something as majestic as ‘spirit of the Gods’? “If those are her wishes, you are going to respect them. Eternally.”

“I will go mad. If I don’t have her by my side for the rest of my life I will go mad.” “So you share a bond with her as well?” She asks.

“I don’t know. All I do is that I haven’t stopped crying and shaking at every reminder of her. No matter how small. Life without her in it is meaningless to me. Afterall, she is the one who gave it back to me.”

“And a good job she did, fox boy,” Ms. Immy smiled softly. “You are a good male who has been blinded by instincts. While it is not your fault, it has become your problem. And by the looks of you, it seems like it has become quite the ordeal.”

My shoulders dropped as I put my head in my palms. I breathed. “I don’t know how to function without her. She has been there, every day of my life, for nearly seventy years, Ms. Immy. We did everything together. Our mornings were spent as one, our evenings, all the restaurant planning and-and brunches here with you-”

“Breathe, Lucien-”

“How am I supposed to just pack up my things today and move on? H-How am I supposed to just carry on as if she never existed in my life? The thought of not being able to see her every day makes me want to peel the skin off my flesh.”

Ms. Immy looked at me, the hard lines in her face becoming more defined. “Listen to me very carefully, fox boy. What’s done is done. You cannot go back in time and take back what you said. The worst of it is over. Now comes the long process of trying to piece your life together. Whether Yn will be able to help you will depend on what you decide to do in the next several days. If you follow her wishes of moving out and staying clear, there could be a chance in the future. But, if you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope.”

If you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope… Words have never stunned me quite as forcefully as Ms. Immy’s had. The true gravity of the situation has set in, if it hadn’t already. One wrong move and she’s gone. For good.

“There is a reason why you are my little fox, Lucien,” Ms. Immy stood, taking my cold mug that I hadn’t touched. “They were intelligent, cunning creatures, just as you are. Do not let your instincts guide you to a decision. Let your heart and the facts do it for you.”

“The facts? What facts?” “The fact that you have screwed up. The fact that Yn has made a decision for you since you were incapable of doing it yourself. It is truth, and it hurts, but it has to for change to come.” And then she went inside.

I sat with those final words for far longer than I anticipated. It was long enough for people to begin leaving their homes, the streets beginning to fill with people.

Yn would be out of the house by now, opening for the restaurant’s breakfast hours. I could go now. Or I could stay here and try to blend into the hundreds of faces passing in and out. But I need to move. Yn might come in for her apple cider and blackberry tart. If I saw her right now I’d surely do something stupid.

As I walked, the clouds blocked out the sun and it began to drizzle. The drizzle turned into a steady rain, then a downpour. I was soaked through my cloak and boots, water seeping in and out with every step. My hair stuck to the back of my neck.

I kept my head down as I walked, afraid of being recognized. If Ms. Immy had been there to not see me at Latibule, who else?

The cobblestone ended and mud replaced it. I knew where I was.

The old, beaten path dared me to go up to the house. It beckoned me. From here, at the bottom of the hill, I could see several boxes stacked up outside the door, the disposable brown material soaked through with the rain. She was serious…

Some part of me– the extremely selfish part– has been secretly hoping that she’ll tell me she made a mistake and that she wants me back. But I think those boxes are a not-so-gentle-shove in the opposite direction.

The key in my pocket might as well have been the key to another universe, because when I opened the door it was like I entered a whole new world. One without me in it. All the pictures of us, all the paintings Feyre had done for us, were off the walls. All the plants and trinkets and decorations I gifter here were piled in the corner for me to collect.

How could so much damage have been done in just a few hours?

One by one, I packed away the things into the soggy boxes. I moved from room to room. Silently. Hoping this was all a dream only to be launched back into reality with every memory that surfaced. Every possession I had given her in the last seventy years was piled here for me to take.

She wanted no trace of me here. And I didn’t blame her. I don’t want any trace of me either.

I must’ve stayed there for hours– crying, packing, reliving moments I had long forgotten only to cry again– because it was close to sunset now. Every trace of me was packed up; all those pictures, all those trinkets, all my clothes and bathing goods… everything I owned fit into these boxes. Everything except for the one person I didn’t want to do life without.

But Rhys and Ms. Immy are right. If I try to do something now, to get her back, I’ll ruin any real chance. That is something I can’t afford.

To an immortal, a few months or years equivalates to just a few minutes of human life. But if it takes years for Yn to accept me back in her life…

Besides the clothes and membranes from the Autumn and Spring Courts, I discard everything. I will tear myself to bits if I don’t get rid of them. Will I regret it down the road, probably, but I can’t have them.

The two boxes and bag of clothes I carry from her house to the Town House are water logged and falling apart. It’s a miracle they didn’t unravel completely. Just add more humiliation to a High Lords son dragging boxes and bags through the street. I deserve all the stare’s and hushed questions.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sights of Rhys and Cassian helping me carry them up the stairs.

“I don’t know how you’re feeling but-”

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Just… just don’t. I don’t want your pity, Cassian.”

“I am probably the last person besides Azriel who would pity you, Lucien. And I had no intentions to belittle you for what you did. I was going to offer you a spot in my training ring if you ever needed an escape.”

His kindness shocked me. I can’t say I know the Illyrian well, but this gesture spoke a lot to his character. So I sighed, of course I thought he was going to be hostile to me. Everyone should. “Oh.”

“Training starts at eight and goes to one. Come well fed and in something warm. The top of the House is colder.”

Neither of us said anything else as he left me to unpack.

______

Some weeks later I had taken Cassian up on his offer. Him and Nesta were great at kicking my ass and telling me about it. This side of both of them was far different than the ones I had seen. Here, Cassian wasn’t a prick. He was an instructor, teaching me how to defend my life and my honor. Nesta was… less Nesat. She channeled this otherworldly presence and became one with her weapon.

Me on the other hand… it was far more difficult. Fighting and battle wasn’t rooted in my blood like it was for Cassian. It was much harder for me to get it but I sorta did. Sorta.

“Just keep working on that footwork and it’ll help with the sword placement. If you’re solid by the end of the week, I’ll put a real one in your hands,” Cassian grinned, chucking me my practice weapon.

It brought a quick smile to my face. As fast as it was there it was gone. Like most these days.

When I got home, I rifled through my closet. Brown and green and cream colored shirts after another. Where was that Night Court Blue one I had gotten a long time ago? I could’ve sworn I plucked it from the pile on the floor- no, that was a towel. I was planning on wearing it to dinner at the River House tonight for Mor’s birthday.

Oh, Yn has it. I had given it to her to wear for a meeting with a realtor when looking at properties. She had tucked it into this black leather skirt.

I’ll swing by on my way to the party to get it. Mor always liked the color on me, and said it brought out the fire in my hair. She’ll appreciate the gesture.

After a shower and some other outfit choices, I can’t help but want that blue shirt. I’ll just go get it.

Through the falling leaves, I make my way down the street, across it, and to the meadow. There are six or seven houses with smoke billowing out of their chimneys. But there, right in the distance, is her house. She’ll be at her restaurant tonight so I know I’m safe.

I scurry up the path, still worried about being seen for some reason.

Has it been easy these past couple weeks? No. I haven’t been able to think of anything but her. Or dream of anything but her. It’s awful. Not her, but the fact that somehow, someway, she is still everywhere I am. In those memories in the darkest part of the night. The darkest part of my mind reserved for her and her only.

I hadn’t dared to go visit Elain. I don’t feel the need anymore. Which is relieving and frightening at the same time. It’s like there is a gaping hole in my heart that nothing will fill. Not even training. It proves a good secondary distraction, but nothing can suppress the primary guilt I feel every waking–

What is that smell? I stopped just shy of the door, key in hand. It wants to smell like the rest of the smoke and ash wafting into the air from the nearby cabins, but it’s… more alive? What if she left the stove on? Or a candle? There are hints of woods mixed into it, but not the type of woodsy scent from pine or maple logs.

I jam the key in as fast as I can to unlock the door. What if she left the fireplace burning or had an electrical fire or-

In the span of five seconds, three things happened. One: Yn was here. And she looked so beautiful. Her eyes are bright and full of color. Two: she was being held by someone, his hands on her cheeks. Three: boiling rage shot through when I realized who it was.

Eris.

~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

#acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #lucien x you #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #acotar #acotar fandom

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hispanthicc · 3 months

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I'm glad to hear you're feeling better now after your break up. I love guys like you whose weight gain has a direct landing in their bellies. Everything else on them is normal size, back, face, legs, feet, arms, hands. But when they turn around, there's this great big belly. Your watermelon belly looks astounding!

Well, I wouldn’t say that I feel better even though it was a few years ago. it was a 5 yr relationship and I was 100% planning to be with him for the rest of my life. Then he just threw me away lol. I’ll never get that time back and I still struggle with a lot of the harsh things he’s said to me and also a lot of his actions afterwards. In fact I got triggered a few days ago cuz I was going through my blocked list on a certain site and I saw him. His pfp pic was changed to a pic that showed his face. 1. I always had to beg him to send me a selfie. 2. He’s always been kinda ashamed of what he’s into and definitely was embarrassed to be seen with me or take pictures with me, especially in the end. So it kinda hurt my feelings I guess, but I’m just sensitive. I also feel terrible for even having any feelings about him at all but it takes a while to fully get over things. But he’s blocked on everything and I wish him the best. Every once in a while the photo cloud will show me a pic of him and I get triggered all over again. But at this point I’ve deleted everything.

I’ve mostly moved on and even my mom said that the best way to get over it and forget is to find someone else and that definitely was good advice. Unfortunately, though that hasn’t completely worked the way I would’ve liked and the past week has been a lot emotionally. I’ve been feeling lonely and horny, I’ve also just felt very left out. Some of it’s my fault cuz anxiety and sometimes just funds lol. I also suck at getting close to people. Abandonment issues or whatever. I also don’t just dive into anything it takes me a long time to just be like I’m okay and ready but I can’t and don’t expect anyone to wait for me to be ready and of course the consequence of that is they move on lol. Which is fine and dandy or whatever but I’m just experiencing a lot of emotions lately that I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to handle any of it.

Anyways gaining and focusing on my body has definitely helped a little cuz I do feel a little more confident sometimes. I lost a lot after the break up and that definitely made me hate myself but I also thought maybe he’d come back if I did but he said I didn’t match his aesthetic (LOL) but he didn’t come back in fact after he dumped me he went to London lol. Literally within weeks. Didn’t even tell me which I guess he didn’t have to in retrospect but he kinda led me on for months making me think we’d get back together. Idk I was ignoring a lot because I wanted to be with him so bad.

Anyways fast forward I went to a film festival in Canada which got me inspired by life again. Enrolled in grad school the following year. Finished the first year and here we are.

I think I noticed I started to gain again during my first semester back in school. Like one day I just woke up and I was bigger. I noticed it in my face write away. It’s kinda hard gaining on a student budget lol but I did the best I could.

I’m not like super big or anything but I’m more filled out all over. Most importantly though, I feel very cute and pretty.

Sorry for this long ass post I know you probably didn’t want to hear the personal stuff. But it’s the internet. The land of over sharing.

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annasinterests · 11 months

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I See Fire

|| main masterlist ||

a/n: i'm dedicating this to my love @tinygarbage because the percy brainrot has been unreal for both of us. i thought this up after watching a tiktok (pls don't ask me i literally watched it once, swiped out of the app, then threw my phone across the room) and so this is what we got fellers. ALSO, one line is directly inspired by/from the D&D movie, so i give credit to my boy edgin because honestly the scene about him being so unapologetically honest about his mistakes was everything to me (i also guessed his dialogue word-for-word that entire time and was RIGHT). honestly thinking ab whether or not if i wanna make a part 2 to this..

divider by @saradika ! ❤️‍🔥

word count: 682 words (who knew i could actually write under 1k)

pairings: percy de rolo x reader

warnings & tags: angst, past trauma, arguing, cursing, miscommunication, unresolved ending

“No!-” You seethe, hands balling into fists at your sides, “Don’t you get it?”

Percy scoffed, “You ask that like I should know, and I don’t!” He raised a pointed finger to you, “How can I when all you ever do is leave us in the dark!”

Your jaw clenches as you turn away. White-hot anger blazed your body and blotted out everything else, even the tears that brimmed your eyes and streaked your cheeks.

“Always putting yourself at an arm’s distance, acting like you have the biggest burden to carry– well, guess what? We all have shit of our own!” His rigid tone made your face scrunch up. “You push away every single person that tries to get under the surface, including us! We’re supposed to be a team, damn it!”

You hated him. His pompous attitude and sense of entitlement, as if he’s somehow better than everyone else, or deserves explanations for things that don’t concern him. You hated his stupid glasses that made him look pretentious as hell, and that unnecessary trench coat he wore at all times. And the way he constantly whips out some sort of contraption that leaves the others in awe, stroking his ego, but you wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.

But what you really hated, arguably most of all, was that he saw you. Right through all the acts and walls you put up to protect yourself– a promise that there’d be no more pain and tears for as long as you lived out your days.

A promise now shattered.

“Without trust, we are nothing.” The words are venomous, so full of exasperation that it strains his voice on the last word.

A sigh and some shuffling follows a moment or two after, and all you can think is how he’s undeniably soothing the crease between his brows while his other hand rests on his hip, a classic pose of his in high-stress situations. Not that you ever paid attention…

“Believe me, it’s not worth living life that way.” His voice was softer, almost apologetic, “It’s… lonely.”

Had you been completely blinded by your own emotions, you would’ve taken the opportunity to tell him to shove it and kick rocks, but you spared him.

“I, too, thought it was easier. I’d seen my loved ones hunted like game, my own sister betrayed our family name, Whitestone had been–”

“Whitestone still stands,” you snap harshly, abruptly cutting him off. “My home does not.”

It’s then you finally turn back to him with a chilling glare and darkened features. His expression drops to widened eyes and slightly raised brows, clear that he’d not been expecting that response. But now it started, and you couldn’t stop.

“My friends do not– my family does not.” The words are registering at higher decibels that burn your throat after each word, “My life– everything!”

You march up to him, squaring up before his infuriatingly tall frame, locking eyes with his. You were shouting in his face, reaching a point of zenith you didn’t know you had, your vocal cords raw and sore that you were sure they could snap at any moment.

“I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me and it was all my fault!”

Your body is trembling from the sheer force of the confession, and the air isn’t getting to your lungs the way you need it to right now. Your eyes, narrowed and fierce, fight to maintain their focus, but that buried, broken part of you is clawing its way out with a strength you can’t compete against.

His eyes flicker between yours, his face softened by a frown. You force yourself to look anywhere but his pitying gaze; you don’t need or want it, especially from him. You hastily wipe away the tears with the back of your hand, take a sharp breath in, and then exhale deeply. Out of all people, you couldn’t believe the one person to break you down would be none other than fucking Percival Fredrickstein von Mu—

“You don’t really believe that… do you?”

Yes, of course I do.

#percy de rolo x reader #percy de rolo x f!reader #percy de rolo #percival de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x f!reader #percival de rolo #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo III #vox machina #the legend of vox machina

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noxturnalpascal · 4 months

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Life Update

It feels to be like I've been pretty absent on here and that bums me out. I had to step back a little for my mental health because the negativity in this fandom does affect me. But stepping back also bums me out because this site can be SO fun when I'm interacting with my moots and making new moots and all of us are squealing about new pics of our boyfriend together.

That being said - the MAJOR reason I have been absent in the past 2 weeks is because of travel. And oh boy.... is this a whopper of a story. So, if you're interested in a tale of insanity, read below the cut.

[TL;DR] I'm back (not that I went anywhere)

sorry I couldn't resist TUWOMT reference, I actually went a lot of places and some of them were good and some were terrible but I really am back now. (Also, I posted this at 2am apparently but did not mean to do that then, so I am reposting now)

So first of all, I was in my hometown in upstate NY last week visiting my family because we are planning to move to the West Coast after our lease is up here so we wanted to visit again before we moved across the country. I live in Florida and we drove 2 days - with our cat in tow - (because my anxiety is so bad it makes it impossible for me to step on an airplane). While I was home I took the train with my bff to Manhattan for 3 days and we hung out there, didn't get to meet Pedro Pascal even once, and took the train back to my hometown. My husband and I drove the 2 days back home and got back Sunday night. It was exhausting and I was only home for like 38 hours and then Tuesday at 1pm I began my next trip. Started with an 18 hour bus ride from Orlando to Lafayette, Louisiana to get a train from Lafayette to Los Angeles, CA. I was planning on being there 12 days before getting the train back to Lafayette and then a bus back to Orlando.

So as I've said I have a terrible fear of flying and I am also the owner of a very bad back (and since my husband and I share a car) I didn’t want to do all that driving alone (dangerous/stressful and bad back) and couldn’t fly cuz of my mental illness. So this is by no means meant to be offensive, but I’m apparently too much of a babygirl to be a bus person. I did not know this. I thought I was tough. Nope. 2.5 hours in on the bus ride and I’ve been listening to this man 2 rows in front of me play instagram reels on his phone the whole time even though the driver said 5 times (FIVE TIMES) to wear headphones….. Well the driver gets sick of it, pulls over at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and tells the guy to leave. He won't so the cops are called. The cops show up and he finally gets off the bus after a 30 min delay. I’m like….. WHAT THE FUCK? IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS??? I didn't know if this man was gonna get mad and start swinging on the bus driver or the cops..... it was scary.

The first station I was at in Orlando I almost threw up cuz I was so nervous. Before I got on the bus I went to pee and to wash my hands and there wasn’t any fucking soap in the bathroom. I thought that was bad. AND YET SOMEHOW.... every subsequent stop was somehow worse. Literally, I kept saying to myself “this can’t get any worse” ....and it kept getting worse. These are the sketchiest, dirtiest fucking places you can imagine. I was staring at this toothless old white dude behind the counter at one of their convenience stores and thought to myself “this has got to be a movie set cuz this can’t be real.” Kind of waiting for someone to jump out and say "PSYCH this is all a joke. I know the floors here look like they were mopped with literal dirt, and everyone looks angry or drugged out, but this is all fake. It's all a joke meant to make you lose your mind." But that didn't happen. I've just never experienced anything like it. I’ve never seen anything so disgusting in my life. The 2nd to last stop only had doors on 2 of the 7 bathroom stalls. One of the stations had a TV on that just played old reruns of a Jaime Fox show while every child in the building cried and coughed at alternating intervals. Yes, this was 3am, and they made three busses full of people cram into a station with not enough seats and wait around for an hour... This is not a joke.

I felt so fucking unsafe the whole time but I had to get off the bus at the stops and walk around (cuz they made you) but also cuz I was VIOLENTLY motion sick the whole fucking ride on the bus. Like clutching a barf bag with a pounding head and miserable. Also on the bus almost everyone else had two seats to themselves and I had a seat partner the entire time, but it kept changing. First it was a girl and then a kid and they were cool but then it was cigarette smelling guy and then guy who literally wouldn’t stop accidentally touching me, including putting his elbow in my back multiple times (I have fucking herniated discs so this did NOT feel good).

And when I tell you that my back hurt, i mean i couldn’t spread out or anything cuz someone was fucking next to me the whole time so my back was on fire. I was in so much pain I cried 3 separate times. So I couldn’t sleep cuz people kept talking and I was in pain and the ride was rough and guy kept touching me. And I just kept telling myself, ok countdown cuz you’re almost there you're almost there. And by now I told myself - this final stop - the bus/train station in Lafayette - is not going to be clean but it’s okay, because you’re going to be off the bus and it’s going to be okay.

WRONG....

When I tell you that they pulled up to a dark parking lot at 4:50am next to a building with gates drawn down over the doors and dropped me off - I was in fucking shock. “Is this building closed?” i shouted at the bus driver. “yeah,” he says, getting back on the bus. “Ummmm, where do i go?” I’m fucking starting to panic. “You can go sit on the platform till they open in a few hours.” and he’s gone.

I’m alone in the dark with my luggage at the fucking bus station in downtown Lafayette.

Oh except I’m not alone because there are 3 men milling about, one of them keeps asking me my name, two of them ride bikes past me back and forth. I go to sit on the platform and this alarm goes off and this voice comes over the loudspeaker shouting “THERE IS NO LOITERING ALLOWED HERE. PLEASE LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.” and repeats non-stop. One of the guys goes “why is it doing that? Is it gonna call the police?” HOW THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW?? I FUCKING WISH IT WOULD MY DUDE, ARE YOU SERIOUS?

I tell him my name to be nice and he keeps telling me i should come sit with him and this other guy cuz it’s “safer” and I’m like…. IS IT THO?!?!?!? and he keeps saying “youve never been here? Do you wanna go see downtown? It’s a short walk, i’ll help you roll your suitcase.” BRO WE’RE NOT GOING COURTING IT’S FUCKING FIVE IN THE MORNING. This man wants to go on a fucking stroll with me and I am just envisioning what my Forensic Files episode is gonna be like and hoping the re-enactment actor they get to play me isn't too ugly.

I’m desperately trying to call a lyft to take me literally anywhere else, and no one is accepting my ride request. FINALLY someone accepts, and after 45 minutes of sitting in the dark, trembling out of fear and cold in only a tshirt with my bags hunched around me, I get my ride. The lyft driver takes me to a Hilton hotel by the airport. I walk in, and I’m mid panic attack and crying and tell the employees there at 6am my story and ask if I can pay for a room so I have somewhere safe to hang out. They refuse to make me pay and offer me the lobby (lots of outlets and large, plush couches) for as long as I need it and tell me to help myself to the hot breakfast and coffee. Fucking Angels.

Does it stop there? No it doesn’t. Cuz I still have to go back to the train station for my train to California, which leaves at 12:30pm. So I spend HOURS in the hotel lobby, chilling and eating and it’s nice and I feel safe. I schedule a lyft to pick me up at 11:15 so I can get back to the train station with an hour before I’m scheduled to depart.

BUT OH WAIT.

10:45am I get a text that my train has been canceled. CANCELED.... Apparently, there are storms affecting the route, so my train will not be running between New Orleans and San Antonio, TX (I’m 2 stops after NO). But they will provide me BUS ACCOMMODATIONS to get me to San Antonio so I can continue my journey there.

Wrong word, my dude. BUS??? I’m fucking triggered. I start bawling like an insane person. The girls who let me stay in the lobby at this point are probably like “oh shit we thought she was normal but she’s crazy.” I call my husband, I call my mom, I call a couple friends. I’m a fucking mess. I just want to go home at this point but I’m still a 12 hour drive away (with no car of course) and OH YEAH I haven’t fucking slept!

So first thing’s first - I ask the hotel for a room and they feel terrible for me (cuz i’m a crying sniveling mess) and give me a discount on a suite and let me check in right away. I call Amtrak and cancel my train, sobbing on the phone with them (and it’s a man so he’s very awkward about it) but they give me a FULL refund. I most likely won’t get refunded at all for the VRBO rental I got for Los Angeles though. I got to the room and booked a rental car for the next day from the airport that I was like right next to, and so the plan was to sleep there overnight and get a lyft to the airport and drive back towards home the next day.

My husband offered to take off work and drive to meet me at an airport along the watly so I wouldn't have to drive the whole 12 hours with my terrible back. I ended up getting a Malibu which was such a nice ride and it had a lumbar support in the seat and my back felt FUCKING GREAT. I met up with my husband at our planned location and we drove home. Between the time change, massive rain storms, and construction traffic, we didn't get home till 10:30 but I fucking made it home. (Because of course with all my bad luck I was terrified that I was going to die on the way home.)

BUT IM HOME SAFE IF NOT A LITTLE WORSE FOR WEAR (mentally and physically exhausted). I will make a post later today with my plans for my writing updates. I have a new WIP I want to share and I know some of you are waiting on my current series as well.

TY always for your love and support ✌️💖🫂

#noxturnalpascal #personal

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4ragon · 2 months

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For the writer asks! 2, 10, 14, 22, and 30 please :D

I FOUND IT SORRY

2. a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

I’m trying to write a Pearl Fey fic? I don’t write enough about Pearl. She’s my little guy. She’s so important.

10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

I mean Like Sand In An Hourglass will definitely be there when I finish it, considering it’s been at least 2 years. Other than that……I dunno, my longfics sometimes would have month gaps, I think Vacation took me a full year

14. where do you get your inspiration?

I mean, plenty of fics have had inspiration from my own life. Many other fics are just me finishing a piece of media and being like I Need More. And to be fair, there have been some fics that were inspired by other fics that I THOUGHT would scratch an itch, and when they didn’t I had to do it myself, you know?

22. do you ever worry about public reaction to what your writing? how do you get past that?

Constantly. Always. There is a perpetual voice in my brain screaming any time I put myself out there. Sometimes it’s weird things like “what if something sensitive I wrote upsets someone?” Sometimes it is just “will people actually like it? Will this be the one that someone finds and decides to swear eternal vengeance upon my soul?”

Quite literally, every time I’ve ever posted anything, I had to close my eyes, should “NO SHAME” and hit the post button. It’s all taken, like, slowly working on myself so that my self-worth isn’t completely tied to my creativity. That took 10 years at minimum and I’m still working on it.

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of

Don’t make me choose between my children!!!!

See part of the issue is that despite my anxiety I also love all of my fics, every single one is something I personally wanted to bring into the world. I guess recently my most rereads have been The First Day of the Rest of Your Life but I also reread Mysterious Disappearance of Phoenix Wright and was like how the fuck did I write this whole thing???

#SORRY I MISSED THIS ASK I LOVE WRITER ASKS #maybe I’ll reblog the thing again hold on

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maxverstepponme · 1 month

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steppy i just wanna fill you in on some hilarious nonsense that’s been going on if you want some entertainment over some stupidity. btw as i was typing this i am a CHRONIC over explainer so this accidentally got long as fuck.

so, alex has a close friend, estelle, who has been pretty popular on tiktok the past few years (has over 90k followers). i’ve been following her on tiktok since feb 2023, before i even knew she was friends with alex. the whole time estelle has had her ig private, but she recently made it public. naturally, alex haters have to stalk every single bit and piece of her life, so they had a field day scrolling through estelle’s account.

these haters somehow came to the conclusion that alex copies estelle? because they have a similar aesthetic 💀 i saw ONE photo that was probably inspired by estelle. like what? y’all have never been inspired by a friend or even a random photo? because they’re both pretty girls with good fashion sense with a similar vibe, people went crazy. friends are going to be similar 💀

anyway, like i said the haters went crazy and became “token estelle fans” aka becoming her “fan” just to have an excuse to hate on alex. there were like 2-3 comments on every single estelle tiktok since the one she posted wearing the brown dress. however, most people weren’t being obvious and just saying cryptic shit like “the original” “the real one”. but then an alex hater who i see in the comments of every post about alex says “you are the ORIGINAL and your friend alex is copying you”.

and estelle’s response to this was to straight up delete their comment. or block them. idk. but i know that hater didn’t delete it because they hate alex so bad 💀 and then estelle i guess realized why people were commenting those things on all her videos, so she deleted all of those comments on every video even alluding to the “situation”. went through video by video to delete every single one. LMFAO. she said nah get your wack asses off my account. she then decided to double down more and go onto her ig and unarchive a post with alex which she had private when she opened her account. this especially stands out because she only has one other post with other people in it (at least on the cover photo) besides herself so its quite noticeable.

i mean estelle likes and comments on almost all of alex’s posts since she made her account (and vice versa), they used to have a lot of tiktoks together on estelle’s account which were mostly deleted probably due to people being weird stalkers of everyone alex speaks to, estelle posted a video in april where she had at least two that i saw photos with alex hanging on her wall, she also used to have a tiktok (now deleted - she deleted a lot of tiktoks over the past few months) where she talked about how loyal and ride or die she is to those she loves. idk why they thought estelle would gaf what they have to say over her close friend 💀 dude this happens so many times it’s hilarious. people claim someone has a problem with alex and then the whole time they actually love her.

I literally saw an edit about that and I was like the fuck?

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rivetgoth · 7 months

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Over on Twitter there was a meme that was like “Post 10 bands you've obsessed about at some point in your life,” so I decided to list the first 10 that came to mind 🤔🤔 Note that this isn’t my current or all-time top 10 bands ever, but 10 that I can remember being obsessed with at some significant point in my life.

1. Skinny Puppy — Duh.

2. Culture Club — A landmark band for me, Culture Club was my entry into 80s pop which would evolve into developing my adoration for the New Romantics, 80s alternative, and eventually industrial and goth music. Also the second band I ever actively went to see live!

3. IAMX — One of my favorite bands of all time since around 9th grade, over a decade now!! One of the only bands I have a tattoo for. I could fill an entire post (or two, or three, or…) on just my adoration for IAMX alone, but I’ll leave it at that for now.

4. Ministry — Inescapable, isn’t it? Regardless of the eternal love-hate relationship I have with this band there’s no denying the incredibly significant effect they’ve had on my life unfortunately. The first industrial band I got into post-Skinny Puppy.

5. The Velvet Underground — TVU (along with TBP, below) was arguably the band that got me into music. Period. I’ll never forget hearing “Venus In Furs” and “The Black Angel’s Death Song” for the first time and just thinking it was like nothing else I’d ever heard before. It was everything to me as a teen.

6. Severed Heads — Another one of my favorites to this day, though I’ve had obsessive periods in phases. They kinda baffle and excite me like literally no other band. Like a puzzle I’m always trying to solve. Love love love them.

7. The Birthday Party — Ditto with TVU. “Mutiny In Heaven” shaped me into the music lover I am today, it gave me a taste for something that was like nothing I’d ever heard before and “like nothing else” has been a significant staple of the most evocative songs/bands for me ever since.

8. Joy Division — Community college circa 2017 I had Joy Division on constant rotation, they really got me through it lol. One of the first GOTH bands that I dove really deep into. I was already listening to goth music at that point but at that point in time Joy Division really resonated. I wore my Unknown Pleasures shirt everywhere seconds before it was cool. I still voted for The Cure on the recent “best goth band” poll tho LMAO.

9. Magazine — A more recent addition, Magazine fucking saved my life when I got COVID in 2021 and subsequent relatively severe psychotic symptoms shortly after. Literally just spent every quiet moment listening to ‘em to fight off some of the worst thought patterns I’ve ever had in my life, for months.

10. Steam Powered Giraffe — My middle school heartthrobs 🖤🖤🖤 A bit dated now but man, SPG was everythinggggg to me for a short moment and I think this secret part of my past explains some of my music taste to this day tbh lol 😭 They were thee FIRST band I ever actively saw live, and the most significant connection is that Bunny Bennett’s coming out was genuinely the thing that spurred me to soul search and realize I was trans within the same year :’)

What are yours??

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minimalist-daydream · 5 months

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April Recap

Hello all! (I don't know if I have real followers or if everyone on here is just a bot... but in any case, I wanted to try something new with this semi-neglected blog.)

I don't know if anyone else here has recently experienced a wave of social media fatigue. The sheer amount of content online - mostly exhorting you to buy more things to fix imaginary problems - lately feels overwhelming. The other day I had a sudden wave of nostalgia for early 2000s social media, especially how things felt a little more curated - how you would seek out a handful of individuals who matched your interests. These days, with algorithms pushing hundreds of new influencers your way every day, it feels impossible to pick out the signal from the noise.

In that spirit, I thought I would start writing a little monthly recap of things that I tried and loved. This will range from everything from books, to fashion, to skincare, to hobbies... I hope to maybe start a bit of a dialogue online, to share some things that I enjoy, and to try to cultivate a lifestyle full of things that I truly love, instead of mindlessly following the latest trend I've seen online.

So without further ado, here's the April recap of Things I Tried and Loved.

Deleting social media apps for a few days

By which I mean any apps with short-form videos, i.e. Instagram and Youtube. I’ve never had Tiktok as I know I would be hopelessly addicted to it, but have managed to justify keeping Instagram and Youtube on my phone for social and “educational” purposes. The problem is, whenever I’m busy or stressed, my coping mechanism is to lie in bed and spend literally hours scrolling through Instagram Reels, until my mind feels simultaneously numb and overstimulated.

It’s usually in such a state of social media-hangover that I decide to stop spending so much time online and delete these apps from my phone. This usually lasts for a few days before, in an itchy state of withdrawal, I cave and reinstall them. But so far I’ve lasted about a week, and the longer I go on, the less I want to go back on them. It’s amazing how much time is freed up when you’re no longer spending 1-2 hours a day scrolling on your phone.

Tumblr, of course, does not count amongst the aforementioned apps. I consider it to be a more evolved form of social media.

Sizing up in jeans

I’m not sure at what point my life I decided that jeans were meant to be inherently uncomfortable. Even though I’ve eschewed skinny jeans for a while now, like a good reformed Millennial, I’ve never let go of the mentality that jeans should still be snug around the hips and waist to be “flattering”.

Now, at long last, I have come to the simple realization that I can wear whatever jeans I want. By simply going up one size from your true waist size, you can have jeans that don’t: 1) require small, awkward jumps to pull on 2) take your underwear along for a ride every time you take them off and 3) cut off your circulation every time you sit down. A miracle.

Clinique Black Honey lipstick

I am not a lipstick wearer. I have tried to embrace the “French girl” look, wherein a dash of lipstick somehow pulls your entire look together, but the truth is when you otherwise look completely haggard, wearing a bright red lipstick actually makes you look a bit insane. I’ve actually had the Clinique Black Honey Lipstick for a while, but rediscovered it kicking around in the bottom of a purse the other day. And wow, I forgot how much I love this simple product. It provides just a little bit of color without making it obvious I’m wearing a color. It does not dry out my permanently chapped lips (though I still wear some Vaseline on top of it). It feels very elegant to slip the little silver tube into my bag or purse. 5/5.

Reading about etiquette

After reading Jane Austen’s Emma and laughing at the various social mishaps that the characters get into, I went on a journey of reading about etiquette and what the hell happened to it over the past two hundred years. Not that I miss the strict dress comportment expected of men and women back then, or women in general being banned from a variety of activities, but I do think there were some romantic tendencies which we lost and were never satisfyingly replaced. Like formal balls. Handwritten letters. Ladies wearing gloves. I know that some people still write letters to their friends in fits of nostalgia, but in an age of instant communication I feel that this would probably be a one-sided effort and met with some confusion before eventually petering off.

Paying for things with cash

Like many North Americans, I am mildly irritated by the influx of tipping requests for things that we used to not tip for, like buying ice cream at a counter or getting an oil change. There is a very simple solution to this, which is to carry cash for these types of services. I haven’t carried cash in so long that I somehow forgot about this workaround. Paying with cash removes the awkward moment where the machine is tilted towards you and the cashier watches as you punch in the minimum suggested 18% tip for scooping ice cream into a cup. If you hand over exact change or the minimum amount of cash required, they cannot judge you for not reaching into your pocket and pulling out extra cash for a tip. Somehow, this feels totally different than selecting “No tip” on a machine. I don’t know why, but it does.

#social media #blog

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golbrocklovely · 7 months

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haven't done one of these in months, so i thought it was the perfect time to bring this back

here’s some of colby’s tweets from 2021.

if it’s bold and italicized, it’s someone’s tweet to him.

if it’s in (), that’s just me commenting lol

added bonus: if they have a * next to them, that means it’s been deleted

~~~~~~~~~~~

April 1 - just wanna make things right

April 4 - happy easter i’m hungover goodnight ?

@/mannymua733: 30 flirty and thriving

happy birthday!!! @/mannymua733: thank you my love!

fan: all manny wants from colby is this (video of colby grinding)

@mannymua733: that’s all i’m asking for colby if this is your b day wish i gotchu

hey if any of you guys have a semi truck could you please run me over with it thanks

@/deefizzy: Can i join the more the merrier !

April 7 - watch the time go by

there’s an angry squirrel in our backyard that tries to kill me every night

April 9 - i can admit that i have big commitment issues when it comes to relationships

April 11 - to the two girls i just met at chipotle … you made my day thank you for lifting my spirits i’m so grateful

April 13 - sometimes life just feels like a big dream to me it’s so hard to explain.

April 15 - who’s your comfort person?

April 19 - it’s hard to find things that excite me as much as they use to and i find that kinda sad. i miss being stoked about every little thing. wanna get that back

learning to let go

no matter what changes in the future .. just know i’ll remember the past

April 20 - i know you don’t believe it but i’d do anything for ya

April 27 - @/ohkailno: when im vaccinated im coming for u @/ColbyBrock

😈

May 2 - i got a PCR test yesterday that literally felt like they were trying to tickle the back of my Cranium

May 11 - fan: So you just gonna leave us hanging like that @/ColbyBrock (photo of him with the caption "it's time")

😏🖤

May 13 - @/katstuartmusic: should i make colby bald

May 17 - i hope you’re happy today i love you

May 23 - someone broke into our rental car in San Fransisco and they stole everything. but i’m most upset about my journal i’ve been writing in daily for the past 6 months… all my emotions, memories, details of life just gone. my 2021 story i can’t get back .. i’m heartbroken

@/lukewaale: duuude what :( that's messed up man, i'm sorry it’s all good man 💔 thanks for sayin something. gotta look at the bright side .. everything’s replaceable

May 28 - you can’t miss what you forget

(it's so clear to me now that this man was clearly going thru so much. this is when things really changed for him and how he interacted with us. it's sad to look back on this now)

June 19 - feels good to be back.

June 28 - fan: I FORGOT @/ColbyBrock IS AN UNUS ANNUS FAN SIR EHAT WAS UR FAV VIDEO

the one where they have a staring contest ! hahahah

#colby brock #cb tweets #text #personal

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khaire-traveler · 9 months

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you get enough asks of people with similar questions and i told myself i wouldn’t add to the list, but i’m rly struggling rn.

i’ve been an active hellenistic polytheist for 3 years now, and an apollo worshiper for around 2.

yet, i haven’t really felt a connection to apollo for a year now. anytime i pray to him, it feels hollow.

i know that the advice people typically give is to move on, but i feel like then it’d be a waste. its quite terrible of me to say, but ive spent so much money and time setting up such a dedicated altar just for it to collect dust.

any ideas or advice? no worries if not. have a lovely day my friend :]

Hey, Max, thank you for the ask! I apologize for the delay.

So, I originally wrote a whole ass post that had paragraphs of information, suggestions, and advice, but Tumblr hates me and decided to just crash and not save literally any of it. 🙃 I'm hoping I can give you good information regardless of this setback. Also, please don't feel bad about asking questions; I honestly enjoy it, especially since some information can be hard to come by. All my information is merely advice and suggestions based on my own experience, but I hope it's helpful to you - and maybe even others - regardless.

The first thing I'll do is share some links that could be helpful for you. This one talks a bit about Deity Disconnect™ - something that I feel I can safely say has happened to every pagan and polytheist. Sometimes faith and spirituality come in waves, ebbing in and out as naturally as the ocean, but it doesn't always mean that a deity has left us. If you'd like to try reconnecting with Apollo through bonding activities and the like, this link and that link both lead to posts that mention some ways you can bond with a deity. Although I'm not sure if any of these will be helpful to you, I hope that they are. 🧡

I feel it's also important to mention that many devotees of Apollo find it difficult to connect with him during the winter. For me, I feel the feeling of disconnect begin as early as the middle of Fall and stay as late as the very beginning of Spring. Many attribute this to the myth of Apollo leaving for Hyperborea and leaving his seat in Delphi for Dionysus to temporarily take over. If you've been trying to reconnect during Winter, or even potentially Fall, the disconnect from Apollo may feel even stronger than usual because of this. I would wait to readdress this issue with him until Spring rolls around, personally, just in case this disconnect could be contributing to your problem at all.

Along with all that, I'm inclined to ask whether you've addressed this topic with him directly. Have you been able to communicate with Apollo directly about this and get his thoughts? In my experience, deities will typically let you know if they're stepping away, rather than yoinking away super suddenly and without a given cause (or at the very least, they are more than willing to provide a reason if you ask them); this tends to be especially true when it comes to deities you've been very close with in the past. If you haven't already, I'd highly encourage you to speak with Apollo in a format that allows him to provide a response to your questions, such as divination or meditation.

I do also have to say that sometimes deities leave but return later. It's entirely possible he is simply taking a break or stepping away temporarily. Maybe he feels you need to focus on other deities more at this time or he has simply taught all he can (or all that's relevant) at the moment. He could return full force later on in your life, be it a few days from now or a few years. This is something I'd ask him about specifically in order to clarify his intentions.

Ok, but what if he really is leaving and doing so in a more permanent fashion? Well, in that case, I encourage you to do whatever feels right for you. Take down his altar, or leave it up; it's entirely your choice. Even when deities leave our lives, they never truly leave, and most of the time, if we need a deity's help, we are still welcome to call upon their aid, even if they've "left". It's also possible that he is still ok with you worshipping or venerating him, even if he does choose to step away. There are some deities that I mostly just venerate but don't do much else past that, and that's perfectly ok. Sometimes it just feels nice to acknowledge a deity and show them appreciation, even if you're not particularly close to them. These are all things you need to have a direct conversation with Apollo about, however, as I cannot speak for him or what he is comfortable with.

Although it can feel like a waste of time, energy, and hell even money, please do remember that it is never truly a waste if your relationship to Apollo meant something - and still means something - to you. You put genuine time, love, and care into the altar you created, and regardless of what happens going forward, I'm sure he still appreciates that. It's important to know that when a deity feels the need to step away, it's not because they stop caring for you or the time you've spent together; they simply feel it's in your best interest for them to be more distant for the time being, but regardless, they are still there. They are still present in the world and life around you. Apollo can still be felt in the warmth of the sun on your skin and the rush of excitement you feel when the beat of music reverberates in your chest. He is still near, even if he feels far. He is still there, even if he feels absent. These are not things you're required to focus on or even acknowledge, however, if it makes you uncomfortable or you'd rather terminate your relationship with Apollo. I just figure it may be comforting to hear.

If the following doesn't apply to you at all or you simply disagree with my perspective, please feel free to completely disregard all this; it's heavily based on my own personal experience and beliefs. Do you work with Apollo or worship him? I know it sounds rather silly and somewhat ridiculous to ask, but I have personally noticed a significant change in my deity relationships when I focused more on worship than work. I have noticed that, a lot of times, deity work can end in that deity eventually departing because the things you're working on can eventually be resolved or improved enough that you no longer need them. To me, personally, deity worship often has a more permanent meaning, although that obviously doesn't ring true for everyone. If you were doing deity work with Apollo, it's entirely possible that he feels he's helped you the best he can with whatever you originally reached out about and has decided that you no longer need his assistance or guidance. If that's the case (which it obviously could not be), then you can absolutely ask him if he's comfortable switching your relationship to something that is more long-term worship based rather than short-term "please assist me with this specific thing" based. And since I'm sure someone will mention it, I do want to acknowledge that there is nuance in every type of deity relationship, and you can absolutely have a long-term "deity work" based relationship and a short-term "deity worship" based relationship. There are exceptions to everything, and everything contains nuance and complexity. I don't want to discount either of those things; this is just me sharing something based on my personal understanding, and no one has to take me at face-value.

Anyway, I hope I was able to answer your question and give you some suggestions or advice that helps. Regardless, I hope you're able to figure this situation out and that Apollo can address you more directly about it. I wish you the best on your spiritual journey. Take care, and have a good day/night. 🧡

#asks #answered asks #deity worship #apollo deity #apollon deity

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nothums-from-tj · 8 months

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Hi I’ve had this PPG Foster Care AU running in my head and I’m finally putting it out

(just notes/refs/background until I actually have the time/energy to go further)

I’d like to note first and foremost that I’m doing everything I can to research while making these details and I know I can always use more—I’ll come back and edit with any inaccuracies or plot holes another day! I’ve been inspired to just put the idea out even if it’s not a perfectly well-done fic or comic or whatever

Trigger/content warnings (no graphic details, all mentioned): domestic violence, incarceration, unstable parent, severe depression, suicidal ideation, mental hospital (ever so slight mention), family separation, parental death, child neglect, food instability

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to write this in past or present tense and I’m at work as I’m finishing this so. I’m sorry

Ok so the whole point of this is to say the girls are not biological sisters—they’re all foster sisters with varying different bio families (with no powers) and backgrounds (they’re all in the same grade/age group), and so different reasons they’re in the system. Professor looks into fostering for similar reasons to making them in canon: to give some kids a home where they might not have anywhere else, to provide some kind of safe space where it’s needed and he wants to do what he can to make the world a little better in that sense. Besides, he’s got 3 spare rooms he’s not using anyhow. For convenience’s sake, I’m gonna say he starts fostering in 2005, where his first foster kid also happens to be one of his only 3 “long term” kids

Blossom:

- age 5 when she meets Professor and is brought into his home

- comes from a home with domestic abuse, taught that there are extreme consequences if something is not done “perfectly”

- she herself has never been hit, she’s just seen it happen to her mom few too many times

- that said she develops a habit of doing everything “perfectly” especially under the mindset of “I haven’t been hit bc I’ve done everything right” and carries a small part of that with her throughout her life

- I want to say it’s OCD but is it really an intrusive thought when you’ve known it to happen

- maybe develops DID too which is to be explored at a later date

- even still, every time Professor would raise a hand a little too close or too quickly it’d send her into a fit of tears and he learned to be much slower and more cautious around her in the time being

- unfortunately for Blossom, she got some of the worst of his inexperience and got to witness and go through all of his mistakes given she was literally his first foster and he does everything he can to make up for it after he’s learned/been experienced enough

- she entered the system when her father was finally incarcerated, which also meant her mother wasn’t financially able to support the two of them as a housewife

- she’s also incredibly depressed and keeps having bouts of suicidality and they just can’t keep a child around that too much, not with the risk of her waking up to having no guardian

- as much as she loves and misses her mom, she’s incredibly grateful that someone was willing to take her in and take care of her before visits

- she bonds with Professor almost instantly when she gets curious about his science experiments and he shows her some child-safe ones and they end up doing that together, at least once a week

- after he learned about her interests in reading and when she really started getting interested in science with him he does what he can to introduce new reading suggestions for her age level and things of the sort

- after Blossom there was a few months period of kids only needing a place for a few nights to about 2 weeks before getting sent back home or with another family member, so she tried not to get attached to any other foster siblings until the second long-term kid

- she still wanted a playmate for the few times that she would pick up dolls or whatever, just didn’t really ask for the fear of being “needy” (issues with trauma) or rely on since it’s out of her control

- by the time she’s 12 her mother has been kind of in and out of a mental hospital, so visitation days are wary and sometimes it’s literally just sitting in the room(???? gotta look into how mental hospital visitations work) with her for a few hours

- the second long-term kid is introduced to her about 9 months after being taken in, around 3 months after her 6th birthday

Bubbles:

- had only just recently turned 6 when Professor takes her in

- cried more than any of the other kids Professor had worked with by that time and didn’t really know how to take it

- her parents died suddenly, horrifically, and only had her 16-year-old brother left to take care of her

- since he’s also a minor, he went into the system too, and they got separated along the way (he was placed first)

- she misses him every day, and Professor would often try to get in contact with her brother’s foster home/family to get him to reunite with her

- unfortunately, her brother isn’t as well off as Bubbles is, and there’d be either strict rules from the home or his foster family would refuse to meet

- the last time he tried calling, they had his number blocked, and Bubbles cried for 3 days straight

- she still absolutely adores Blossom, and was always more than happy to color/draw or play with her

- they’re an amazing support system for one another, especially during school

- Bubbles is later adopted providing there’s not much of anywhere else for her to go

- about a year after is when her brother is on his own and is finally able to make contact with Professor again, and he’s not financially able to support Bubbles and himself so he just stops by whenever he can or will babysit or bring the kids to/from school whenever possible

- he’s a good boy

- the period of kids still kinda coming in and out lessens significantly with one room now being filled

- she misses it, a little bit, since it meant she got to make a new friend

- she misses the way her life used to be, her parents and her brother, although she’s still incredibly happy to have Blossom and Professor and to still see her brother every so often

- a year or two after she’s adopted comes a third placed with them, and it takes them a little while to readapt and even longer with someone they don’t have a near-immediate connection with

Buttercup:

- introduced to the Utonium fam about a month after her 10th birthday

- expected to be like a mini adult by the age of like 6

- she’s sheltered and clothed so it took forever for the right people to find out she’s been neglected

- eventually her parents would kinda forget to bathe her or sometimes provide meals so that’s how she got removed from them (I guess like a less drastic/severe “Opal” situation???) (linked: short film by Jack Stauber)

- her mother’s voice is sweet like honey, somehow even more so when asking her to stop screaming for a need to be met (“The whole neighborhood’s going to think I’m a bad mother.”) (0:16) (linked: clip from “Moral Orel”)

- her father’s voice is stern and reflective, he could be a great speaker or narrator so long as no one listens to a word he says (“It’s your problem. I trust you know how to deal with it.” “I’m only 9!” “That’s no excuse.”) (0:43) (linked: same “Moral Orel” clip)

- poor volume control also gets her in a bit of trouble with Professor just of course not nearly as bad/much, even less so when he realizes she can’t control it

- some behavioral issues as well which kinda come with being neglected

- absolutely hates visitations, always comes back in a horrid mood and usually slams the door and won’t leave/allow anyone in for a day and a half if she can allow it

- it gets even worse after she starts getting used to/comfortable with the treatment she gets with Professor vs at home

- it takes a while for the other two to warm up to her, mostly with Bubbles pushing hardest to find ways they can all hang out together

- plus when her brother met her when picking them up from from school one day they got along almost instantly so she wanted to see that charm of her more often

- near constant arguments with Blossom bc negative attention is still attention

- especially when Blossom has to do everything “the right way” and Buttercup likes getting that blow-up reaction (again: negative attention is still attention) when she doesn’t follow her rules/patterns

- anyway after a few months she was looking for a volleyball opponent and so taught her how to play and ended up really liking it so their relationship started improving

- she’d also have some dance parties with Bubbles so their relationship improved too

- otherwise she’d draw/color with them once in a while and played some pretend games on the rare occasion so things started getting easier

- especially when Professor got them (1 to share) an Xbox or PlayStation or something for Buttercup’s first Christmas with them and they all started playing video games together

- her parents have also taught her that she’s just dumb since she struggles to read and quite literally gave up once she started kindergarten and her teachers have had very little say other than that they hope whatever is happening improves (gotta love the educational neglect /s)

- her grades/participation goes up while with rest and Professor actually gets her tested with dyslexia so she can get the help she needs

- it takes a while to learn that she can ask nicely for a need to be met, positive attention can be acquired, she’s not stupid, she can ask for help, and she’s allowed to feel her feelings

I’ve yet to decide if their names are as they are in canon or I might go with the names in the ep “Oops, I Did It Again!” (Bubbles as Bertha, Buttercup as Betty, I don’t remember Blossom’s) or if Blossom and Buttercup get adopted as well. I’ll have to look more into reunification and qualifications for that, and even then develop more of a storyline with each of their families to really get a good idea. Hope it’s ok so far though!! I’ll come back another day to edit/update with any other research or ideas to fill in any gaps

#ppg #powerpuff girls #the powerpuff girls #ppg au #powerpuff girls au #blossom ppg #bubbles ppg #buttercup ppg #blossom utonium #bubbles utonium #buttercup utonium #professor utonium #long post #fppg au

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