#who are angsty and just need all the love

[callipraxia]

Lots of interesting stuff here; the one point, aside from how I love the phrase “ship of Theseus-ing himself,” I can comment on…somewhat succinctly is the “learning that maybe it’s just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him.” I think it partially was as a self-defense measure…but also partially due to his shift toward “mission-oriented” behavior.

We know Stan is a social creature. He craves connection. Not all that long before he went to Gravity Falls, we saw him trying to befriend his cellmates in a Colombian prison. It’s also well-established that he likes women and has had (tumultuous) relationships with them in the past, but by the time the Lazy Susan B-Plot happens in s1, he’s clearly been out of the game for a while. We see no evidence, in fact, that he ever had any relationships in GF in thirty years of living there…because how could he? He couldn’t tell a love interest who he was or what he was doing with his free time, because if that relationship didn’t work out, that person would have epic blackmail material. And if he had a love interest and let her continue to believe he was Stanford Pines, well, that was going to get awkward when he definitely rescued the real one any day now, wasn’t it? So, between needing to lie about who he was and the simple fact that dating would take up time which could otherwise be spent on his mission, having even a girlfriend, never mind a wife, would have been tantamount to giving up, which is…not an option in his world usually, because the “stubborn” bit stuck no matter what else about him changed. Having friends would also introduce the same problems, to a probably lesser extent. So, therefore, there was nothing to do but shut himself off from the world, which became a self-reinforcing habit that progressively made him more and more cynical and bitter about his position in life as everyone learned he was emotionally isolated from other people and therefore not someone they liked or trusted….

Aaah, this reminds me of a fic I never wrote. We know a little about Carla McCorkle and Marilyn, but the rhyme at the end of “Roadside Attraction” also mentions a “Beatrice” who “slapped him for being a cad.” We never hear anything else about Beatrice, which made her fair game, so a plot idea I had involved Stan - since this was early into his career, before he had fully shifted the public idea of Stanford Pines away from “the science guy in the woods” - more or less accidentally getting recruited to help judge the science fair, despite how he knew relatively little science at that time and also really, really hates science fairs in particular. Cue light romantic comedy with a Beatrice also associated with this event during the lead-up to it/his efforts to sabotage it so it doesn’t ever happen…which then, of course, naturally all has a bad ending when he realizes that oh, yeah, right…his life is fake and he has a top-secret, all-important mission in his basement, time to deliberately behave badly until Beatrice breaks up with him and the ending is discordantly sad and angsty. Never wrote it because I could never figure out how to write and pace the romantic comedy bits, though.

Something I think about so much is just how different the Stanley Pines we see in ATOTS is from the Grunkle Stan we know in the rest of the show.

Like, have you ever noticed just how much more expressive Stan is in 1983? The guy wears his heart on his sleeve so much more than he does later on. At almost every moment you can tell exactly what he's thinking and feeling just from his face, something that will become a lot rarer for him. Even setting aside the portal incident scene itself, have y'all ever watched the Dusk 2 Dawn scene and just watched Stan's face? He looks so… openly sad.

It's not just his expressions. Here's a detail that only just occurred to me: you guys ever think it's weird that Stan doesn't just try to steal the bread from Dusk 2 Dawn? Like, you'd think his stealing habit would've originated from his years on the street stealing to survive, but no— he tries to pay for the bread, and then when he doesn't have any money, he figures out how to get some. It's surprisingly honest.

And just like… I don't know, his whole vibe is so different. He's come from this life of hardship completely willing to talk things through. He's emotional, he's open, and not exactly what you'd expect to see when you imagine what a younger Grunkle Stan might have been like. In fact, his vibe is so different that, in Journal 3, Ford writes that when he first saw Stan, he assumed he was just in another alternate dimension rather than the one he came from.

Anyway, it just makes me think about the transition of how, exactly, he went from one to the other. How we go from the "stubborn, frostbitten vagabond" to the "carnival barker" he is by the show's present. I think about that in-between Stan a lot. Realizing that the hole in his heart, the one he thought was caused by his circumstance for so long, hadn't disappeared even now that he had money and a steady place to live. Growing more bitter and grumpy by the day, learning that maybe it's just better if he shuts himself off from the world so nobody has a chance to hurt him. Seeing himself aging and finding himself no closer to saving Ford. Ship of Theseus-ing himself into the carefully curated asshole that maybe even he thinks he is.

[cxrsed-angel]

Once Bitten and Twice Shy

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, 18+

summary: Joel is uninterested in holdiday festitvies until he reunites with a familiar face who loves to spread the holiday spirit. Alternatively, Joel the Grinch is reunited with his Martha May Whohiver.

wc: 4k

warnings: Jackson!Joel, unspecified big age gap, smut (unprotected piv sex), fingering, a bit angsty, (sad and lonely old man Joel) the timeline kinda doesn't make sense but its not that important so just ignore it.

a/n: Here's a holiday fic for my last fic of 2024 <3.

Joe hated this time of year. The twinkling of Christmas lights decorated on almost every home and roof in Jackson, lights decorated around light poles, bows around the light poles. The community hosts holiday events for the children, people putting up their homemade holiday decor, and the whole town covered in snow, making it look like a scene from a Christmas movie. It's a time that’s supposed to be joyful, cheerful, and merry, but it was never that for Joel. Not since ‘03, Christmas hasn't felt happy around this time of year. It was always filled with pain, regret, memories he couldn't seem to forget, and mourning the things he’d never experienced.

At first, Christmas and the holiday season, in general, were hard for him after he had lost Sarah. He couldn’t help but think about all the times he had gotten her letters to Santa she had written when she was 3 and 4 or when she was “subtly” hinting at something for Christmas when she got too old for Santa. Or the time she saved up money to buy him a cologne and a new tool belt with the help of Tommy.

After that day, the day he lost her, he ignored anything having to do with the holiday, and this time of year, which wasn't hard to do in QZ, there’s barely any holiday spirit or festive decor, but that was increasingly difficult until he met you. You had gotten paired together for a run because Tess was sick, and ever since then, you were something he couldn’t shake, and you grew closer. For the two and half years he knew you, you had made the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes. He’d never say it, but you'd had let him allow himself to enjoy this time of year.  

You always hung up whatever festive Christmas decorations and winter decor you could find all over your shitty FEDRA apartment. Joel tried too hard to fight it, but the more time he spent with you, the harder that was. He often joked you were one of Santa’s last remaining elves on earth. He spent two Christmases with you. He remembers helping you hang up whatever you couldn’t reach.

“Joel… can you help me hang this nail.. it won't go into this shitty door!… he sees you holding the red, green, and white wreath you had found somewhere, trying to mount it on the shitty, broken, falling apart apartment door. “well I think you need might wreath hanger sweetheart…” he sees confusion flash across your face but only momentarily,” I can't just hang it on a nail…” Joel sighs before taking the wreath and hanging it up. He pretends he doesn’t enjoy your holiday spirit like he doesn't get happy when he hears the records and CDs of whatever holiday music you could scrounge up, like he doesn’t look forward to seeing your festive apartment every time he visits you. 

But that was before. Now, he can't stand the music, the smell of holiday baking, and warm homemade candles. Ellie would joke and call him the Grinch or Scrouge, but that was when Ellie talked to him. Now, he’s lucky if Ellie glances in his direction. But he had no one now, and he could spend time with Tommy and Maria, but since the baby had arrived, it had been hard for him to see Tommy as a dad. Luckily, Tommy knows his brother and tends to give him things to work on to distract himself, especially after he and Elie drifted apart. 

Tommy comes into Joel’s workshop. He sees Joel working, an old Linda Ronstadt CD playing barely audible due to the sound of Joel's woodcutter. Tommy bangs on another table lightly, grabbing Joel’s attention. He stops the woodcutter, looking up at his brother. 

“If it’s about the broken window for Mrs Anderson, I'm working on it,” Joel mutters from behind the woodcutter, starting it again but stopping when Tommy speaks again. 

“No...no, it's not about the window. I need you to do me a favor. Can you show someone to her place? She just got here; it's house #40. I would, but Maria is doing some town stuff, and I gotta watch the baby.” 

Joel sighs, taking off his protective glasses and trading them for his regular black-framed corrective lenses. He moves away from his woodworking table, looking at his younger brother with an unsatisfied stare.

“Now?” Joel grumbles under his breath, obviously annoyed.

“Yes, Joel, now... please,” Tommy asks, begging. He knows that asking Joel to do anything he didn’t want to do after November was a challenge. But Tommy really didn’t have anyone else, and Joel happened to be the closest person to ask for help. 

Joel once again lets out a sigh, once again showing his reaction to being unconvinced. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but now, whenever he's near the front gates, near the most decorated parts of Jackson, it gets hard to breathe. He gets the aching feeling in his heart. He thinks of you more and more, and he wonders if he made a mistake. He starts getting up to follow Tommy out of his shed.

 “Wow got a lady waiting in the snow? Such a gentleman, Tommy.” His voice full of sarcasm as he looks at his brother. 

Tommy lets out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes at Joel’s sarcasm, choosing to ignore it. “After this, you can go back to your woodworking hole for the rest of the day, I promise. It's just one girl; she should be waiting by the front gate. It should take a few minutes. Just be nice and welcoming, and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the month.”

“Rest of the damn year,” Joel mutters under his breath, putting on his brown jacket, hat, and gloves, preparing to brace the snow and cold weather. “Gotta be a damn welcoming committee in fucking below 30-something-degree weather,” he mumbles as he walks out of the shed.

Tommy rolls his eyes yet again, hearing Joel's comment, before going in the opposite direction towards his house. As Joel walks down towards the entrance, he sees the decorations filled along Jackson's main road. His thoughts immediately go to you. 

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye. 

Joel tried his best not to fall for you. He couldn’t love you. Not just because he was afraid of losing you but because you were too young and didn't need his baggage. But that got harder the more time he spent with you, and it worsened around December. Your cheerful smile was contagious. Hope gave him something he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak. Hope. Hope for a future with you. Even if it was in the QZ, you made it look brighter and more positive than it was. It made him love you; if he loves you, it's only a matter of time before he fails you.

One way or another, he can't lose you. Losing Sarah still felt fresh and recent, not 20 years ago. He doesn’t know if he could handle losing you, too, especially because of him. But Joel knows he can't hope, not in this world. It's easier to push you away and make you hate him. When Joel felt these feelings, he did the one thing he knew how to do: create distance. He went from seeing you multiple times a day to maybe once a week. Barely talking to you, he stopped kissing your lips and touched you less, but you still found a way to be around him. You still held his hand, sleeping in the bed next to him. 

“This…ain’t working.” Joel sighs, looking down still. Your back is turned, trying to warm hot chocolate; you managed to persuade him to get on one of his smuggling runs, up on the shitty stove in the QZ. An Ella Fitzgerald Christmas album playing on a CD occasionally having to skip a song cause of its skipping. 

“It's a paper snowflake, Joel. What are you talking about? How hard can it be? If you don’t want to do it, you don’t.” You sound confused but are still focusing on the stove.

 Joel sighed again before looking up at your back. “I ain’t talking about the damn snowflake.” 

It's the tone of his voice that causes you to turn around, the sense of dread in his words, the way he seems almost scared to say them. You turn, looking at him, and he can't even look up to make eye contact.

 “Then what are you talking about, Joel.” 

Joel finally looked up at you, and you knew exactly what he meant wasn't working, "Us. This. Whatever this is, it ain't working.” He got up from the small round wooden dining table.

What do you mean this isn't working? It's been working fine for almost two years, Joel!” 

“Well, it's not working anymore.” 

You look at him before taking the attempt at hot chocolate off the stove, last thing you needed was a fire, but you go back to looking at him for any explanation or further clarification about why this wasn’t working out for him when it felt so right for you. But he never offered one. 

“I can't. It's not….working,” he says slowly, tired. Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows this isn’t easy, but Joel cannot do this anymore. He can't let himself get attached to you. He convinced himself it would be easier in the long run.

He never said anything else. All he did was leave you in your apartment. Leaving you speechless and heartbroken. After that, Joel avoided you, or you were avoiding him, but each day, he saw you less and less until around the first week of January, when he noticed he hadn't seen you around at all. He asked around, even bribing FEDRA guards, and finally, one told him that you had escaped and left town with a group of a few other women. Joel had the realization that he’d probably never see you again. He knew you were strong and capable, especially if you had a group. He wasn't worried about you dying, but he had to kill you off in his brain to move on. Because if you weren't dead, then it gave him hope. 

Losing Sarah felt like strike one for him. The first time he felt his heart became cold and isolated, he lost the ability to smile, laugh, and even care. Until he met you at the QZ, it was hard not to smile around you. For the first time, he felt genuinely happy near you. He enjoyed your presence, the jokes you’d make about his age, and the warmth you brought back into his life. Then he ruined it and messed it up again like he failed Sarah. He failed you and lost it all again. Then Ellie brought it back with her jokes and outlook on life. Then again, he lost it. After that, he decided to give up and live the rest of his life in Jackson, mainly alone. 

Joel finally reached the front gate but didn't see anybody waiting. He looked around until he saw a figure in the barns, near the horses.

 “Tommy’s bright idea of leaving a girl out damn in the cold. Forcing me to be the goddamn welcoming committee, Jackson is small, but it ain't that small. Tommy could've found someone to do this…” He mutters to himself as he approaches the barn. 

Snow crunching under his boots causes you to jump at the sound, accidentally scaring you. He sees the girl turn around and instantly recognizes you before you remember him. He sees your eyes still shining, still young, still….hopeful. Not much has changed physically, but at the same time, he can tell something changed. 

Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?.”

It has been 3 years since you left the QZ since he had broken your heart and made his own even colder. He doesn't know what to say and realizes you don't even recognize him. His hair is longer and grayer now than it was. He has more wrinkles and glasses now. Probably put on more pounds now, having access to meals more consistently, not going on runs,  and having to walk miles every day. He can only imagine your thoughts on why this old man was looking at you in such a way, almost on the verge of tears. 

You reach a hand out to greet him and introduce yourself, hearing your name for the first time outside of his head in years, but he doesn't speak. He knew his voice would give away who he was, and he was scared of your reaction. He didn't know if you would be happy to be reunited or slap him because of the last time you spoke. He takes a deep breath before looking at your hand and then back at your face. Three years later, you didn't change much. You still looked just as beautiful to him as you did those years ago. 

“We…um... have met before.” He speaks slowly, knowing that once you hear his voice, you’ll recognize him. 

The second you hear his voice, you suddenly recognize the man in front of you, and shortly after, all the memories return. Memories of sleeping in Joel’s apartment in the QZ when you would get nightmares, memories of him teaching you how to properly shoot in the woods, memories of the first time you had kissed him. Memories of him ending whatever you two had back in the QZ. It all came back flooding your mind. You didn’t know what to say, react, or feel. You look at him for a bit, unsure what to say, so you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Joel? You have….um, you have glasses... Now. .” Those were the only words that came out of your mouth, the only sentence your brain could make. He let out a small laugh, happy you didn't slap him and cuss him out. He reaches for the frames. “Yea. It got hard to read tiny fonts, so… found a pair of readers, and there's an old eye doctor here,” Joel says painfully awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do next. A part of him wants to pull you into his arms and apologize for being an idiot all those years ago. More than anything, he wants to kiss you and tell you that he loved you then and never really stopped. 

“Well, um, I can show you to your new place.” He walks you over to the smaller houses since it's just you. 

“So, how long have you been here.” You ask as the two of you continue to walk in the snow. “About not that long, El- um, I had a girl I had to look after, but she’s an adult now and doesn't need me anymore, but it's safe, so I decided to stay.” Joel walks down, noticing the holiday decor. He can't help but point it out. 

“Bet you’d fit right in here and come at the perfect time.” You nod, agreeing, taking in the town's scenery, the lights, the homemade decor, and the children’s drawings, and you smile a bit. 

“Wow, it’s really pretty, much nicer than the QZ. You must be like a Grinch up on top of the mountain around here, huh? " Your joke makes Joel feel at ease. He laughs, looking at you, feeling like no time has passed. He walks further, approaching his house, snow covering the roof, absent of any lights or holiday decorations that the other houses in Jackson have.  

“No, I…join in…occasionally.”  Joel replies very unconvincingly, which makes you laugh as he opens the door, letting you in. 

“Sure, I bet you join all the festivities, Joel.” He leads you into his house, which looks how you would imagine a middle-aged man living alone to look.  You stand a bit awkwardly in his living room, unsure what to do or say, and find it hard to believe Joel was in front of you after all these years. “But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again.”

You don’t know who started it, who leaned in first, who kissed who first. It feels like both lips were drawn to each other like magnets. Joel places his hands around your lower back as you close your eyes. His kiss immediately feels like home, safe and warm. Joel pulls away softly. He looks at you, afraid, like he was dreaming. You look back at him, just unsure. You were half expecting him to say something similar to what he said all those years ago, that he couldn’t do this again, yet your lips clash against each other, messily and desperate for each other. Your hands came to his face, holding his greying beard and pulling him as close as possible. 

He lays you down on his bed, hovering over you, kissing down your neck, pulling your shirt over your head, temporarily removing his lips from yours to take off your shirt. You shift, taking off your old sports bra you’ve had since God knows when. Joel feels what you’re attempting to do. He pulls off it, over your head, before his lips return to yours again. Your hands reach, grabbing up to his brown and grey curls.

“Joel….” you moan on his lips. His hands travel up your chest grabbing, squeezing your boobs, making another moan slip. His hand runs down to your stomach, down to your clothed core, rubbing it slowly.

“Joel, I've missed you so much.” He looks down, nods, and softly raises his hand to your face. He looks at you, and you can still tell he’s hesitated, nervous, even scared. 

“I've missed you too, more than you could know.” He kisses you again, but you pull away, sitting up a bit. He takes off his jacket, tossing it somewhere. His green flannel is next. You start unbuttoning it, but you feel his hands on your wrist, stopping you. Your eyes meet his.

“What…” You look confused as to why he stopped you. He had taken your pants off and wanted to have sex, or so you thought. You look at him, waiting for him to say something, but he never does.

“What, Joel? do you not want to-?” Your eyebrows frown, anxious, worried you had read into something. You had misunderstood. But he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. 

“No, I do. I do. Believe me, I do. It's just been a while since we’ve…since you’ve seen me?” Joel tries to explain, but you still don’t see the problem.

“Okay, but we did have sex back at the QZ….many times, so.. I did see you shirtless. What's wrong?” You sit up fully in his bed. Joel sighs, moving off from on top of you and sitting beside you.

“Yeah, well, that was years ago…when I was probably a few pounds lighter, sweetheart.” You suddenly realize what’s wrong. 

You raise your eyebrows, confused. “Seriously, Joel… you really think I’d judge your body because you're actually getting hot meals daily?” Joel looks at you, and your hands go back to the buttons on his flannel. This time, he lets you. 

“I'm serious, Joel. I really don't give a shit…about any of that.” You reassure him as you push his flannel off his shoulders, seeing the white t-shirt underneath it. Your hands go to the bottom of the shirt. 

“I'm just glad I found you again, and you’re not injured or…” You take a deep breath, thinking about the worst-case scenario. You lift the bottom of his shirt, and he helps you remove it.

He nods as you take his shirt off and kiss his chest. “Just glad you're safe, Joel. I don’t really give a shit if you look a bit different.” 

He lays on his bed, pulling you down on top of him, kissing you, his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Glad you’re safe too, babygirl,” he speaks softly in between kisses, his voice is deep.

He reaches between your two bodies, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside. Your hands goes to his jeans, unzipping them and tugging them off. Joel kicks the jeans off the bed. You feel his cock through his boxer shorts against you. You look down seeing the sizable bulge, you can’t remember if he’s always been this big, but he looks very big. Borderline massive, honestly. 

“Did your dick..grow, or is my memory just that bad?” you ask Joel. He laughs a bit, thinking you’re joking. But you’re not trying to rack your brain to remember if he’s always been this…thick.

 You hear him chuckle a bit. “Last I checked, it was the same, sweetheart.” you reach your hand on the waistband, slowly pulling his boxers down his thighs, watching his hard cock spring onto his stomach.  

Joel's larger hand reaches over yours, guiding it to his cock to jerk him off. You kiss his lips as you move your hand a bit faster. Joel moans against your lips before he moves away. Joel slowly tugs your underwear down your legs, and you kick them off, watching him grab the fabric off, tossing it with the gathering piles of clothes forming onto his bedroom floor.  Joel moves his hand off of his cock 

“Sweetheart, can I fuck you? Please, honey, I gotta be inside you.”

Joel slowly inserts his fingers inside you, feeling the wetness. His fingers curl up, fucking his fingers deep inside. Your head goes back against his pillow, feeling his finger's pleasure in ways yours haven't been able to, reaching places that you haven't been able to reach since you left. His fingers are larger and thicker than yours, making your eyes roll back. You moan out his name, missing the feeling of his name on your lips. You nod repeatedly. 

“ Please. Please. Joel. Please fuck me. I need you.” You moan, grabbing his arm as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Yea? Want me to fuck you.” His fingers slow down, and he presses his nose against your neck. You nod again, letting a moan slip out as he kisses down your neck. 

He moves his fingers, moving you closer and slowly pushing his thick cock inside of you. Slowly pushing the tip of his dick further inside.

You've slept with Joel numerous times in the QZ, he’s fucked you more than he can count, but this was different. You feel him slowly thrusting deeper inside you. Your nails dig into his back as you he fucks you, his cock reaching deeper inside you. This was passionate and slow. The making love you’ve read about. 

” Joel.. Joel. You feel so good.” you moan, feeling him fuck you deep and hard but still slow, like he was savoring, enjoying this moment.

“Missed you, baby. Missed you so fucking much thought I… 'd never see you again.” he looks at you watching your face frown, scrunching up in pleasure. Your eyes close, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a moment, miss any more time of being with you, seeing you, touching you. It feels like no time has passed. He still knows your body like the back of his hand. Your moans fill the room. He’s memorized by you. he feels as if he closes his eyes, he’ll open them, and you’ll be gone, that this was a dream.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at Joel, pulling him closer. He looks down at you fucking deeper inside, and you feel the pleasure building up until you reach your release gripping onto his shoulders, your moans grow louder. 

“So close. Please, Joel, wanna come. Wanna come with you.” You whine, pleading with Joel as he fucks you deeper, nodding.

“Can tell you’re close, baby. Look so pretty like this full my cock.”

 He reaches between the two of you, rubbing your clit until you cum, moaning, crying out his name loudly. Joel is glad he didn't have any neighbors close enough to hear.

“Joel! Joel!” Fuck!” Joel watches are you come undone on his dick, the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. His thrusts speed up, not far behind you. Surprised he even lasted this long, considering he can't remember the last time he had fucked anything that wasn't his hand. “Where you want it darling,” he grunts between his moans. You barely register what he’s asking you properly fucked out. You whine at the overstimulating sensation of his cock fucking your sensitive hole. You open your eyes, looking up at him. 

“Inside…please, Joel want it inside me.” Joel uses every inch of his restraint to not come to the sound of your words, your begging. He shakes his head no. He had no intention of becoming a father of a newborn again in this lifetime, especially at this age. 

“You know I can't.” You whine, disappointed a bit, minds still a bit foggy from your orgasms. You look at Joel. 

“Don’t care, Joel.” He nods again, thrusting a few more times, moaning more before pulling out, cumming onto your stomach. He breathes heavily, looking at you, and he slowly moves from on top of you going to his bathroom. He grabs a towel, cleaning you off before joining you back in his bed. You instantly move closer, laying against his chest, and he puts an arm around you, kissing your lips once again. He looks at you for a bit before breaking the silence. 

“I love you.” The second he says those three words, you feel the air come out of your lungs. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond. You look at Joel, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. He was telling the truth. You look back at him, trying to start your brain back up. You smile, nodding, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to say those words. God knows it’s probably been 20 years since, yet here he was saying it to you.

“I love you too, Joel. I always have. I have never stopped.” You look back at him. He softly kisses your lips.

“I think they’re having hot chocolate and cookies or something in the square, " Joel says nonchalantly, sounding uninterested. Looking at you, he pauses before continuing. Maybe even an old holiday movie or…something like that.”

You can't help but smile widely as he mentions the holiday activity going on in Jackson. Was Joel actually mentioning something holiday-related?

You look at him, still smiling. “If you want to ask me, old man, you gotta say it.” You tease. All he manages is an eye roll before sighing. 

“Would. You like to. get hot chocolate and watch an holiday movie sweetheart.” joel asks cracking a smile as his hands rubs your back softly. 

“I'll give it to someone special.” 

[kaminocasey]

Hey! I'm gonna take advantage of your charity and incredible talent and ask me some Silco stuff, and I will make it very personal.

Im just a sucker for angsty fluff, so I was thinking something in the lines of reader works either in some restaurant where Silco goes or actually works in the last drop. And she's just having a rough couple of days and Silco finds out about it and just wants to help (maybe he gets frustrated because of it all, and goes all Silco, you know what I mean? Damn I'm gonna shut up now). But we all know Silco is not the most affectionate man, or at least shows it in weird (?) ways. I feel like it would be better (?) if they didn't have a relationship yet. But I'll leave it to your brilliance to do as you please, I have complete trust in your skills.

But remember, you don't have to do this if you don't feel like it of course.

Anyway, to much information already. So good luck, love your work, that brain of yours and you in general ❤️💙💛🤍

PS- do not allow me to make more requests, I will make them long, weird and I'll keep remembering more stuff to add and the next thing you know it's a full blown fic 🤣

Take All Your Sins

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, love!!! I was excited to do this one!!! This is going to be a two parter or MORE for SURE. <3 ilysm thank you again for your trust in me!!!

Summary: You work in the Last Drop and very close to Vander. What happens if Silco comes along and ruins that?

Pairing: Silco x Reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, sweet Silco, protective Vander, alcohol

Taglist Form | Arcane Masterlist

“If you have something else to do, I can finish those.” You come into the doorway of the kitchen, nodding toward the dishes that he’s doing. 

“I got ‘em. Almost done.” The older man smiles at you.

A few years ago, Vander gave you a place to stay when he found you out on the streets and ever since then, you were basically inseparable. His kids were like your own. 

“Rough night, huh?” Vander asks as you lean in the doorway, keeping an eye on the place in case more patrons came in. 

The Last Drop is usually busy this time of night, especially on this day of the week. But it’s like a ghost town right now and you can’t seem to figure out why.

“Rough week.” You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“Do you need a couple days off?” Vander asks, genuinely.

He always made sure you were taken care of, which you appreciate, but sometimes it feels like he does too much for others, and never lets anyone do anything for him. You’re bound to change that though. His birthday is coming up and you’ve been saving up for something special that will be from you and the kids. 

“Nah, I’m-” You start but hear the door open.

“You got it?” Vander asks and you nod with a grin and turn around to greet the customer, letting the kitchen door swing shut.

“What can I get ya?” You smile at the older man, who makes you do a subtle double take.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.” He smiles. 

He’s got dark hair, a partially scarred face, one blue eye and the other dark black with an orange iris that makes him look incredibly menacing. He’s wearing an open, fancy peacoat with a buttoned vest and tie. Who the hell is this guy?

His eyes rake over you as you approach the bar where he sits. 

“Haven’t seen you before.” You smile, politely. 

“I don’t get out much.” He takes his coat off and sits it down on the stool next to him. “I… work a lot.” 

His voice is silky and you can’t help but want to hear him say more. 

“What do you do?” You ask as you pour his drink. 

“I own my own business.” He tells you and takes the drink when you slide it to him. 

The way he says it, makes you think he doesn’t want to answer anymore questions about himself. 

“What’s your name?” He asks softly. 

You tell him and he takes a sip, keeping his blue eye on you. You smile softly, unsure of what to say.

“Pretty name.” He tells you, after he finishes off his drink. 

You go to pour him another but he puts his hand over his drink and shakes his head.

“Thanks.” You put the bottle back down and then take the empty glass from him, sitting it in the sink. “What’s yours?” 

“Silco. Do you like working here?” He asks, not missing a beat. 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And you like Vander?” 

You nod. “Who doesn’t?” 

He chuckles, glancing around subtly. “Who doesn’t, indeed?”

“What are you doing after work?” He asks. 

Oh… of course. He thinks you’re going to put out- 

“I’m not trying to fuck you.” He tells you, as if he can read your mind while he stands up and puts his coat back on.

“You’re not?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to, but that’s not why I asked.” He smirks.

You both stare at each other for a moment. His eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes.

“So… the real reason is?” You cross your arms.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’ve not been on a proper date in years.” Silco shrugs, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. 

You go warm in the face before looking down at his slender fingers and immediately can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like inside-

“I’ll be by at 11.” He tells you, snapping your thoughts back to the present as he places a few cogs onto the bar. 

“Um. Alright.” You nod, giving a kind smile. 

He stares at you for another short moment before giving you a smile back and then leaving. Just as the door closes, Vander walks out and sees you staring at the door, breaking you out of the trance that Silco seemed to have put you in.

“Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him, smiling a little dreamily. It’s not something you’re used to. Normally, when customers ask you out, you brush them off and pay them no mind. But Silco… he managed to get you to pay attention. 

“All good. Um… I have a date after work.” You go warm in the face at the word ‘date’. 

It’s not like you don’t date… you do… just not consistently. The last date you went on was a year ago. It didn’t go well so you decided to just focus on work.

“With the customer that just came in? Who is he?” Vander’s eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing that you haven’t gone out with someone in a long time.

“Just… some guy.” You shrug, starting to wipe down the bar. 

Vander chuckles. “Alright. Keep your secrets. I was young once, too.”

You laugh with him, your thoughts immediately going back to Silco’s unmatching eyes and the way they softened at the sight of you. 

“You can go get ready if you want. I can finish here.” Vander smirks. 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. I owe you.” 

“Nah. Get outta here.” He nods toward the door that leads to the upstairs. 

You pat him on the shoulder as you walk past him, heading upstairs to go shower. You look at the clock and see that it reads 9:30. That should give you plenty of time to get ready. You don’t take particularly long showers. 

As you turn on the water, you climb into the shower, letting the water flow over your body as you stand there for a moment before starting to wash your body and hair. You still can’t stop thinking about the older man. He had to be about Vander’s age, right? You wonder if they know each other. Perhaps after you get to know Silco a little more, you’ll introduce them. 

After your shower, you dry your hair the best you can and then settle on a dress that you’d saved up forever to buy just because. What better excuse to wear it than on a date with an extremely attractive, slightly intimidating, man? 

At ten til 11, you make your way back down to the bar. Vander and Benzo both let out a whistle at the sight of you.

“Don’t you clean up nice?” Vander grins. 

You shrug, going warm in the face from the attention. “I guess.” 

You sit up on the bar stool next to Benzo. You glance over at the door and then back at Vander. 

“Do you want something to loosen your nerves?” Vander teases. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You roll your eyes, amused.

“Who’s this hot date with?” Benzo nudges you with his elbow. 

You go warm in the face all over again, thinking about Silco. “Just some older guy… he’ll be here any minute.” 

They accept that answer and continue their conversation from before about business stuff that you don’t really mind yourself with. You pretty much just show up and do your job and do exactly what Vander tells you to do and then go back upstairs and sleep. And then repeat. 

The door opens moments later, and the three of you look up to find Silco walking in. You can’t help but give him a sweet smile. He smirks at you and pauses by the door.

“Are you ready-” He starts.

“Silco.” Vander growls. 

“Hello, Vander.” Silco’s eyes fall past you to the man behind you. “Lovely establishment you have here.”

You turn to Vander, confused. “You know each other?”

“Oh yes, we do.” Silco walks toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, looking you up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Vander comes around the bar and starts toward Silco but Benzo gets up quickly from the stool and stops him. 

You look between Silco and Vander, still confused.

“I think that’s for her to decide.” Silco smirks up at Vander who stands almost a foot above him.

You turn to Vander, with furrowed brows. This man is the one who gave you life again, the man who is like a father to you. The man you owe your life to. If he says you shouldn’t go… then shouldn’t you listen to him?

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

But I'm not much of anything (but you're everything to me)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: sirius black x reader (gender neutral), implied poly marauders x reader

length: 1.8k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort

warnings: winter break angst I suppose, you're so young you don't have to be everything you want yet, you have time you learn and you grow and you become blah blah blah lol

a/n: me ?? posting a fic ?? wooow wowow anyway this is in the poly marauders series but it can totally be read stand alone

"I brought you your jacket." Your voice is quiet as it floats through the crisp night air, the sound hushed as Sirius cranes his head around to see you slipping through the back door and shutting it gently behind you. 

"You didn't need to do that."

"It's cold out here," you point out. There's a sort of familiarity that Sirius can't help but find some level of comfort in when he shrugs the heavy jacket on, the dark shine of the leather stark against the pale skin of his neck.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" he asks a bit sullenly, wincing and brushing a stray hair out of your face as if to make up for his bluntness. But you just wrinkle your nose and lean against the porch railing, looking out toward the rolling white lawn of James's family home.

"Oh," you shrug lightly. "Just needed some fresh air." Sirius fixes you with a stare at your words, though, and you smile a bit sheepishly. "James pulled out the board games," you admit. "I was looking for an escape."

"Oh, so that's all I am to you?" Sirius quips, but the softness in your returning smile catches him a bit too off guard and he feels his heart thump rather painfully in his chest.

"No," you respond sweetly. "If all I was looking for was a quick exit, I would've gone for climbing out the window. I'm out here for you, I'm afraid."

"How awful of me, then," he jokes weakly, and you look at him like it's the funniest thing you've heard all day. Sirius clenches his fists where he leans on the railing, letting the rings that adorn his fingers pinch his skin and press against his palms as he looks out into the night. You're standing close enough that he can feel your arm brushing against his - close enough that he feels something that seems strangely like love rolling off of you in waves.

"What are you doing out here?" He says it again, like a whisper, like a plea that he knows will be unheard. You look at him steadily as he shakes and you smile and he kind of wishes you really had climbed out the window instead of coming after him. Just for a moment. Just for a second, before the guilt sets in and he -

"Remus, uh, he said that you…"

"Had a breakdown?"

"No," you respond easily. "He didn't quite put it like that."

"But you get the idea," Sirius huffs. You lean closer to knock your shoulder against his.

"I do, baby," you offer gently. "I do."

Somewhere inside, James's boisterous laugh can be heard as Remus swears and shouts something about how cheating ruins the game. Sirius's fists clench tight enough that his knuckles whiten and you tap a nail against the wooden railing in thought. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask lightly. Then you watch the muscles in his jaw flex as he clenches his teeth.

"Is there anything to talk about?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Usually a bit more than you think." He sighs at that, a defeated sort of thing as he slumps down just a bit, sinking into the warmth of his jacket as a wicked winter wind blows through. 

"I just really thought, for a little bit - I guess I really believed I'd be someone someday." He whispers it like a prayer, like a confession before some sort of altar. You answer like he's the one who should be prayed to.

"You are someone."

"No - but… you know what I mean, yea?"

"I do," you concede, sighing a bit. "I - I really do." The words come out in a sort of rush as you say them, tumbling out of you and into the frozen air as Sirius shoots you a peculiar look.

"I don't know how you do it, love," he admits in that slow, low timbre of his. You perk up a bit and glance over to him with your brows raised.

"Do what?"

"What… what I never could." You're still looking at him, he's sure, but he's avoiding your gaze in the wake of his confession, tipping his head back to stare up at the endless stars, instead. 

"Oh, Sirius, I -" You cut yourself off with a laugh and it's a hollow, pitchy sort of thing - off and different and wholly unnatural coming from you. It makes him snap his gaze back down to look at you and when he sees the tremble in your face he wonders, not for the first time, how he manages to fuck it all up so often. 

But then you smile at him like the stars shine down on the two of you because he hung them there. You smile and you look up, yourself, into the endless vastness.

"I'm not, uh… well, I'm not really much of anything these days," you admit quietly, the words halting and slow as they leave you.

"That's bullshit, babe," Sirius responds, the words tugged from him as soon as he hears the tremor in your voice. "You're everything."

"Aw, see how easy it is?" you sigh, leaning back and hanging onto the railing as your voice wavers just a touch. 

"What?" Sirius asks quietly - because he knows, he thinks. He's knows what's going on.

"How easy it is to see yourself in someone else," you clarify. It makes him frown, makes his brows bunch together as he stares down at you. More wind blows through, the beginnings of snowy flurries fluttering through the air and makes you shiver, your sweater doing little to protect you from the incoming storm.

"You should've brought your own jacket out here," Sirius huffs, pointedly derailing the conversation as he shrugs off his own dark leather to drape it over your shoulders.

"I only had time to grab one," you murmur in response as you let him manhandle you into his jacket, the weight of it settling heavily on yout shoulders as you curl your hands into the too-long sleeves.

"What's that thing you always say?" Sirius mumbles as he smooths his hands down your arms, his fingers cold against the fabric. "Something about putting your own oxygen mask on first?"

"Aw," you tease, turning to lean against the railing again and bump your shoulder against him. "But then how would I get you to look after me, huh?"

It's a joke, of course - Sirius knows it's a joke, recognizes the quip in your words. But he can't help himself. He grabs onto your shoulders gently and spins you around to face him once more, his face sombre and lips pressed together as he tilts his head down to look you in the eye. 

"I'll always look after you," he says sternly. "You know that, right? Always, I - you deserve that much, you know? You deserve to have someone find you out in the cold and give you a jacket."

There's a strange quality in your returning smile as you listen to him speak and Sirius, somewhere distant and safe, gets the feeling that you know something that he doesn't.

"I know you do," you say sweetly when he's done his rambling, and the words make a frown tug further on his face as he shakes your shoulders ever so gently.

"Not me," he clarifies sternly. "You - you deserve it. We're talking about you." But then there's that smile from you again, sweet and loving and shining up at him like he's the only warmth you need. It makes him stumble, just a bit, makes him lose his footing as he looks down at you in his jacket, the necklace he gave you last year shining against your neck and the hickey that he'd given you yesterday just barely hidden under your hair.

He lets go of you - he can't help it. He lets go of you and takes a step back to cross his arms over his chest, instead, like he's curling into himself somehow.

"What do you think?" you muse quietly. "Do I look like you?" Sirius thinks, for a queasy sort of moment, that you sort of do. 

"No," he says shortly, the irritation in his voice so surface-level and fake that you grin a bit. "You look like you."

"Well," you say easily as you rock back on your heels a bit and your grin widens. "I'll take that, I suppose."

"You should," he quips back, shivering as the wind blows through and a golden warmth filters onto the two of you as someone turns on another light inside. "What a thing to be, hm?"

"Aw," you tease, but you lean up on your toes and grip onto Sirius's shoulders as you tilt your head to look at him. "You love me, huh?"

"Against my better judgement, yes," Sirius murmurs back, smoothing a hand over your lower back as he leans down to press his lips against yours. It's familiar by now, the feeling of you pressed against him. He knows the shape of you and the feel of your warmth radiating into him. He knows the way that your lips move against his and the way you smile into the kiss. He knows the way that this love feels, he realizes, and it makes him tangle a hand into your hair and tug ever so gently as he nips at your lower lip.

"The others will start to feel left out if we stay out here for too long," you murmur quietly, your lips brushing against Sirius's as he chases after you.

"Just a few more minutes."

"You'll also freeze to death," you point out. That makes him laugh, makes him tilt his head back and look up at the stars and feel how close they are between the two of you. You smooth a hand over his chest as he looks up, placing your palm against his shirt to feel the steady thump of his heart under his skin. And how odd, you think, to feel it beat like that for you. 

"Thanks, sweet thing," Sirius says eventually, his voice quiet as he moves slowly to look down at you once more.

"For what?" you ask simply. The kiss that he presses against your nose is so gentle you almost don't feel it. But you always feel Sirius. You always know where he is.

"For coming out into the cold for me," he says quietly, and if his voice wavers and cracks, you take no notice. "For - for bringing me something warm."

"It's a nice jacket," you respond easily, but your fingers thump against his chest as you echo the beating rhythm of his heart. "It deserves to be worn."

"Yea," Sirius sighs, his shoulders, he finds, lifting a bit with a lightness that's so difficult to find in the dark. "It is a nice jacket."

[heartmix]

baby please come home - CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warning: bit angsty with happy ending of course, sad carlos

Twelve Fics Of Christmas - Christmas (baby please come home)

A/N: based on Christmas (baby please come home) by various artist but my favorite is Micheal Buble, Mariah is a very close second!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

The difficult thing about dating an athlete was that he was gone half of the year, what made the relationship more challenging was that you were gone when it was his turn to be home. At first, he didn't mind because that meant you could come with him to a handful of races. He loved showing his job off and more importantly, he loved showing you off. 

In times like this, he wishes he could trade it all. It was Christmas and he was missing you. Christmas was meant to be spent with loved ones, not having them in another country. For weeks you've been away on business, the busiest year for your job. This was the slowest season for his job. Offseason was meant to be spending time with you, but he forgot this is the season you made your money.

He couldn't help but be jealous of his sisters. Each one of them brings their other half home and shows them off to the family, the first time all Sainz siblings were in a relationship at the same time. He wanted to do that with you, he needed to do that with you. It was hard to enjoy the festive activities that his parents had planned, how could he enjoy the most joyful time of year without you here?

'I'm about to go m.i.a for a while but I wanted to be the first to tell you Merry Christmas. I love you!'

That text alone could have had him breaking down. He was envious of everyone who got to kiss their other half Merry Christmas. He wanted to text you to quit your job and that he was going to provide for you, but knew that you would never accept that. So instead he settled for an

'I miss you, Merry Christmas my love' 

It was now nearing midnight and everyone was hanging around watching A Christmas Carol waiting for midnight to strike when everyone would open their presents. Carlos couldn't even get into the movie, his mind was trailing back to you. He was sitting on the single-seater armchair scrolling through pictures of you and him through the year. Might as well call him the scrooge for not wanting to celebrate Christmas. 

"Carlos honey?" A voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked over at his mom who was calling him.

"Sorry ma. What did you say?" Quickly he tucked his phone away but not before looking at you on his lock screen. 

"It's midnight, Merry Christmas." She smiled sadly at the boy. She and the rest of the family knew he was down in the dumps. He tried to get into the spirit, he really did, but missing you consumed him. 

"Merry Christmas Ma." He smiled back at her before wishing everyone else a Merry Christmas. 

"Let's open presents, shall we?"

Each sibling and their other half sat around as their parents started sorting the gifts. At this, he couldn't help but see the one you left for everyone being passed around. He remembers you giving him clear instructions to make sure it traveled safely in the suitcase. 

One by one everyone opened their presents, which was a lot considering they were all adults at this point. Most were from him because he tended to go all out for his family like he remembers his parents doing for them. When it got to the last round of presents Blanca immediately stood up surprising everyone at the action.

"I left your present in my suitcase Carlos, I'll be right back." She said with a smirk before rushing out of the living room. He gave a confused look to his mom who only shrugged at her daughters out burst. 

It wasn't a moment later that she poked her head into the doorway making him even more suspicious. "Close your eyes, I couldn't exactly wrap it."

"Blanca..." He warned not liking her intentions. After making fun of her for years he wouldn't put it past her for pulling a prank at Christmas. 

"Just do it." She begged making him give in. The faster he followed her order the faster this night would be over.

Once she was satisfied with him, giving him a middle finger just for reassurance, she giggled before pulling his gift into the room. Carlos was ready for anything, mainly for something to be thrown at his head. Knowing his dad, he would let it happen. What he wasn't ready for was for weight on his lap. He swore it was you. He knew what you weighed to a tee from all the times having you in his lap. Opening his eyes he saw you with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He couldn't believe it it was really you. 

"Amor?" He asked barely above a whisper, he needed you to say something to make it real. 

"Hi baby." You matched his tone.

Before you knew it he picked you up spinning you around in a death grip of a hug. He still couldn't believe you were he, he needed to squeeze you and hear that pretty giggles that emerged from your lips. Soon enough he heard it. It was real, you were here with him on Christmas.

"Baby! You're going to break something!" You shrieked as he still spun you around. 

"You're here! You're actually here!" He chanted over and over. He couldn't help it. 

Seeing as you were getting dizzy, he stopped his movements but still kept you in his arms, making sure you still had your legs wrapped around him. He didn't care if he was in the middle of the room in front of the Christmas tree with his family staring at him. As far as he was concerned, the only people in the room were you and him.

"How?" he breathed out once he got a good look at you. 

"Finished early and I took the next flight home. I knew you were pouty without me." You smirked as you ran yours hands through his hair. 

"Looks like my wish came true." He mumbled out before smashing his lips against you.    

[atsro-slut]

Hey hey astro! I was thinking about reader that turned into a fox (or other, if you prefer) animagus with the help of the marauders and joined Remus on a full moon? You can make it angsty, fluffy, spicy, ... whatever you prefer!! 🫶

Whisper of the Full Moon

Hi, hun!! I hope you enjoy, I loved writing this one!!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Y/N becomes an Animagus with the Marauders' help, transforming into a fox to stand by Remus Lupin during his werewolf transformations. Together, they face the full moon, their bond stronger than ever.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

Y/N had always known that she was different. From a young age, there had been something about her that set her apart from the other students at Hogwarts. But it wasn’t until she met Remus Lupin and the Marauders that she truly understood what that difference was.

At first, it had seemed like any other school year. Y/N had been a bright student, excelling in her classes and making friends effortlessly. But when she found herself drawn to Remus, a shy and mysterious boy in her year, her life began to change in ways she hadn’t expected. Remus was different from the other boys—quiet, reserved, and often absent from school due to unexplained illnesses. It was only when she got closer to him that she learned the truth: Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

The revelation had shaken Y/N to her core. She had heard the rumors—whispers in the hallways about the strange boy who would disappear once a month and return looking drained and sick. But Remus had trusted her enough to tell her the truth, and in that moment, something inside her clicked. She loved him, and nothing would ever change that.

It wasn’t long before she became entwined with the Marauders—James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and of course, Remus. The Marauders had their own secret: they were Animagi, wizards who could transform into animals at will. James was a stag, Sirius was a dog, and Peter, though not as skilled, was a rat. But there was something about Y/N that made them believe she could join them.

“You’re strong, Y/N,” James had told her one night after a particularly intense study session in the common room. “You’ve got the magic in you. You just need to unlock it.”

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure what they meant. But the Marauders were persistent, especially Sirius, who had a way of convincing people that they could do anything. They had been working on their Animagus transformations for years, and they believed that Y/N could do it too. After all, if they could become animals, why couldn’t she?

And so, under the cover of darkness and the guidance of the Marauders, Y/N began her training. It was a grueling process, filled with trial and error, but Y/N was determined. She wanted to be part of their world, to stand by Remus during the full moon, to support him in ways that no one else could.

It took months of hard work. There were times when Y/N felt like giving up, when the transformation seemed impossible. But the Marauders were patient. James taught her how to focus her magic, how to connect with the animal inside her. Sirius helped her embrace her inner strength, while Peter provided encouragement when things seemed bleak. And, of course, Remus was always there to support her, his eyes filled with pride whenever she made progress.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day arrived. Y/N stood in the middle of the Marauders’ secret hideout, her heart racing as she focused all of her energy on the transformation. She could feel it—her magic humming inside her, pushing against the walls of her human form. With a deep breath, she let go, allowing herself to fall into the magic.

The change was almost instantaneous. Her body shifted, fur sprouting from her skin, her limbs shrinking and elongating as she became the animal she had always known herself to be. She was a fox—quick, agile, and clever. Her senses were heightened, and the world around her seemed more vibrant, more alive.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the Marauders standing in front of her, grinning from ear to ear.

“You did it!” James exclaimed, his voice filled with pride.

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Welcome to the pack, Y/N.”

Peter beamed, his eyes wide. “You’re amazing.”

But it was Remus who stood closest to her, his eyes soft with admiration. “You did it, love. I knew you could.”

Y/N could hardly contain her joy. She had done it—she had become an Animagus, just like the Marauders. But more than that, she had done it for Remus. She had done it so that she could stand by him, so that she could be there for him when the full moon came.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The full moon was approaching, and Y/N could feel the tension in the air. Remus had been quiet, more withdrawn than usual. The days leading up to the full moon were always difficult for him, and though he never complained, Y/N could see the toll it took on him.

She knew the full moon was coming, and with it, the transformation that Remus dreaded. But this time, things would be different. This time, she would be there by his side, in her fox form, ready to help him through the night.

The Marauders had made special arrangements for the night of the full moon. They had found a safe place in the Forbidden Forest, far from the castle and the prying eyes of anyone who might stumble upon them. James, Sirius, and Peter would stay with Remus, watching over him in their animal forms, while Y/N would be there too, a silent companion, offering her support.

When the night finally arrived, Y/N met the Marauders at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, her heart pounding in her chest. Remus was already there, standing alone beneath the trees, his eyes haunted by the knowledge of what was to come.

“Hey, love,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and comforting. She stepped forward, nuzzling her head against his leg in her fox form.

Remus looked down at her, his lips curling into a faint smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to do this. It’s dangerous.”

Y/N shook her head, her fox tail flicking back and forth in determination. She was here for him, and nothing would make her leave. She had trained for this moment. She was ready.

The transformation was starting, and Remus’s body began to shake. His breath quickened, his eyes widening in pain as the change overtook him. Y/N could feel his distress, the rawness of his emotions, but she stayed close to him, a steady presence in the midst of the chaos.

The Marauders were already in their animal forms—James’s stag, Sirius’s dog, and Peter’s rat—surrounding Remus, offering their silent support. But Y/N was the one who stayed closest, never leaving his side. She could feel his fear, his shame, and she knew that he needed her more than ever.

As the full moon rose high in the sky, Remus completed his transformation into the werewolf. His body twisted and contorted, his eyes glowing with an eerie yellow light. But Y/N wasn’t afraid. She had seen this before, and though it was always a terrifying sight, she knew that she was safe as long as she stayed by his side.

The night was long, and it was difficult to watch Remus struggle against his instincts. But Y/N never left him, never faltered. She stayed close, her fox form darting around him, offering comfort in the only way she knew how.

When the sun finally began to rise, signaling the end of the full moon, Remus’s transformation began to reverse. His body slowly returned to its human form, and as the last of the werewolf’s fury faded, he collapsed onto the forest floor, exhausted.

Y/N was there, as always, nuzzling his face with her fox muzzle, her eyes filled with concern. She stayed with him, offering her warmth and her presence as he recovered from the ordeal.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Y/N wagged her tail, her heart swelling with love. She had done it—she had been there for him, just as she had promised. Together, they had made it through the night.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

From that night on, Y/N knew that her place was with Remus. She was no longer just his girlfriend—she was his partner, his equal, and his constant companion. The Marauders had welcomed her into their circle, but it was with Remus that she found her true purpose.

Though the full moon would always be a challenge, Y/N knew that they would face it together. With the help of the Marauders, the support of her friends, and the love she shared with Remus, she was ready for whatever came next.

In the end, it wasn’t about being an Animagus or having the ability to transform into a fox. It was about the people you loved and the sacrifices you were willing to make for them. And for Y/N, that was all that mattered.

She had found her place in the world, and it was by Remus’s side, through every challenge, every full moon, and every new beginning. Together, they would face whatever came their way, knowing that they were stronger than they had ever been before.

And with that, Y/N knew that no matter what the future held, she would always be there for Remus. Through the full moon and beyond.

[wickjump]

What's ur opinion on ink neglecting/forgetting his children (paperjam, gradient)?

I personally hate it

awful. you are so right, asker. everyone be more like katyalice they know what’s up. its literally the worst thing this fandom has made and im only partly exaggerating. do you think he wouldn’t be fucking ecstatic to have made something alive? if ink can remember the names of his parents whom he doesn’t see every day he would remember the names of his kids who he raises. even if the other parent isn’t in the picture he would try to be the best parent he could be.

like. kids come with so much possibilities. he’d go overboard making the best room he could even if they’re an infant who doesn’t need that many clothes or decorations. he would have a calendar in every room so he has something to remind him of events like birthdays and holidays he otherwise wouldn’t remember to celebrate. kids are interesting, they’re something he would spend so much time adoring. he gets to participate in the life of something he created? he would fucking love that!!!!!

he would be so involved in their lives because he probably didn’t even think he’d ever get this chance. he can’t create aus, he can’t create life. and then suddenly this baby exists?? and it’s HIS??? he’d love being a parent. he would have photos of his kids on him and brag about them even if he might mix up names from time to time. he would be ink-level of weird about it—a kid would come home being all angsty and ink would clap and say “ooh, now we’re in the edgy phase!!! i mean. go to your room.” he treats the kid more ‘real’ than he treats people from aus because this kid, in his eyes, is just like him. there’s no au that made them, no script, they were born outside of the multiverse with no story planned for them as far as he is aware!!! this kid is real.

and im not saying his memory loss just wouldn’t exist. i can see him mixing up names and/or faces. i can see him occasionally missing events or mixing up dates. i can see him forgetting that his kids, unlike him, need to eat until they remind him and then making food for them later than normal. but if he has an other parent there (which would definitely be the case with dream or swap, 50/50 for error depending on interpretation) they would help him with those things. they would help because that’s what partners and parents who give a shit do. his memory loss being portrayed as the trait of a villain is weird to me.

if he has kids and his memory issues are so severe that he cannot remember they exist or to take care of him, then he also shouldn’t remember the names or faces of friends or his parents or literally anyone else. his memory would not suddenly fail for specifically his kids because you want shipchild angst. it’s just. not good writing to completely mischaracterize one character for the sake of building up another.

and making ink abusive is just. no??? in his faq it says he tries to solve issues with words first and this would not change especially in a home environment??? if he doesn’t attack strangers because he wants to see if there’s another way to get around this, then he is definitely not someone who would hit his kids or partners. who do you think he is because your ink privileges should be taken away if you think this

[kyrumption]

🍉💚 follow @eslammsaidd 💚🍉

Today I learned that Gilmore Girls is one of Eslam’s favourite shows. Another thing we have in common! She’s a teenager in Gaza, I’m a 20-something in New Zealand; but despite the physical distance, and all the privileges I have grown up with that she has never known, she is like a sister to me. I’m reminded of my decade and a half of friendship with my beloved Alyssa @tilyoutryit who was (and still is, I’m just no longer a teenager 👵🏼) like a big sister to me, during my angsty teenage years. Alyssa and I finally met IRL after several years of talking online. I am so hopeful that I can meet Eslam one day, but it’s obviously a far more complicated situation. Even if the crossing were to open tomorrow, Eslam and her family would be unable to escape. Any money they have raised so far has been spent on rent, food, medicine and blankets, aka SURVIVAL.

Eslam’s family is safe from eviction for another month 🙏🏻 this is basically a miracle; but here I am asking for another one! Because they are forced to pay $2000/month in rent, this makes it impossible to save any money for evacuation fees. the cut-off age for ‘adult’ fees is 16. this means they need to raise almost $50,000 to pay the necessary evacuation fees. I have been talking to Eslam about making a tumblr, she loves photography and making videos, I think she would love this community, unfortunately her phone has been broken for weeks, which leaves her having to borrow her sisters phone, to share her campaign on Twitter/X, and talk to me and her other friends and family. Today she is going to try downloading the app on her sisters phone, and sharing her story with you beautiful people who support Palestine 🇵🇸

Please give her a follow❤️💚

[vanillarosekiss]

Hi lovie! May i request something? Can you write angst to comfort with simon or john? Love me some ex to lover or just like another chance romance where the boys are grovelling teehee

Of course I can, angel!♡ I hope you like this, I'm so sorry that it's late. I really wanted to make it more angsty at the beginning and sweet at the end so enjoy.

What Remains ₊˚⊹♡

Warnings: angsty, simon being a bit of a prick tbh, fluff at the end.

The dreaded knock came late—sharp and deliberate, breaking the silence of your small apartment. You weren’t expecting anyone at this time, but the minute you opened the door and saw him standing there, everything froze.

Simon.

He looked the same, but so different. The mask was gone, but his darkening aura stayed the same. He didn’t say anything; he stared at you like he wasn’t sure you’d let him speak.

“What do you want?” you said, voice harsher than you expected.

“I came to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, almost hesitant, “To apologise.”

You let out a harsh laugh and crossed your arms.

“Talk? Now? After you walked out of my life without a word? Months, Simon. Months. And now you want to talk?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his tone defensive, as if bracing for impact.

“I know I fucked up.”

“Fucked up?” You stepped back, gesturing wildly, “No, Simon. You didn’t just ‘fuck up.’ You destroyed me. Do you even get that?”

He winced, his lips pressing into a hard line. “I left to keep you safe. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” you snapped. “You always have a choice. You just didn’t want to deal with me, so you made the easiest one. Don’t pretend you did it for me.”

His head snapped up at that, and for the first time, you saw something crack in him.

“You think it was easy? Leaving you? That it didn’t tear me apart every time i thought about it?”

“Sure looked easy from where I was standing,” you fired back. You knew it wasn’t like that, but you had lost it with him now.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said, voice harder now, colder. It was like he went back to who he was in the field, merciless and cruel.

“Do you have any idea the kind of shit that follows me? The kind of danger I drag around? I left because I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. You know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Protect me?” You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich, Simon. Did you ever stop to think about how it felt on my end? Not knowing if you were dead, alive, or just done with me? You didn’t protect me. You abandoned me.”

That word hit him like a slap. His jaw clenched, and something in his expression shifted, turning darker. “You think I wanted to do that? That it didn’t fucking kill me to walk away? I was trying to do the right thing.”

“Yeah, well, you failed,” you shot back. “Congratulations. All you did was prove I meant nothing to you.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You think you meant nothing? Christ, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I thought about you every fucking day. Do you know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone? To come back? But I couldn’t.”

“Why? Why couldn’t you?” you demanded, your voice breaking. You didn’t want to get emotional with him but you couldn’t help it.

“What stopped you? What could possibly be worse than what you did to me?”

Simon’s voice dropped, “Because I was scared, alright? Scared I’d lose you for good. Scared you’d get hurt because of me.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. For a small moment, neither of you said anything, just stood there in the wreckage of everything unsaid.

“You broke me, Simon. You left me with nothing. And now you just show up, expecting me to forgive you?”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” he said, his tone softer now, the fight draining out of him. “I just… I couldn’t stay away anymore. I had to try. Even if you want to slam the door in my face, I’ll take it, but I needed you to know I’m sorry. For all of it.”

You felt your resolve cracking, the anger giving way to something else—something just as painful.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” you whispered. “You don’t get to come back like this and try to undo everything I’ve been through.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But I can’t let you go without a fight. Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.”

Your arms hung limp at your sides, the weight of his words crushing you. You couldn’t tell if you were angry at him or just upset.

“I know I’ve been a prick, baby, trust me I know. And I hate myself for ever doing this to you. I wasn’t thinking properly. Fuck, I just- ”. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

He looked… lost? Like he didn’t know how to fix this, and it tugged at something deep inside you, even through the anger.

“Simon,” you said quietly, your voice softer now.

His hand dropped, and he looked at you, the raw emotion in his eyes catching you off guard. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you let me,” he whispered. “I just want you back. Please.”

The sincerity in his voice broke you, and you couldn’t even get a moment to second-guess yourself.

“One chance, Simon. That’s all you’re getting.”

Guys i fear this is one of the best things i’ve written (my favourite). And it’s actually proof-read because i could be asked to get the grammar correct!! So proud. Thank you anon for this lovely, lovely request `౨ৎ~

Tag list: @soapisgod @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19  @decaffeinateddelusionbread @poohkie90 @senoritaleeda @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling @angelica456

Please lmk if you’d like to be removed or added to the tag list, I won’t take any offence!

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Propaganda:

Vampire!Anne breaking the brooding angsty vampire trope by being her ray of sunshine self. Won't drink human blood no matter how hot Marcy claims it will be and no matter how much Sasha insists she needs it. Pretends like nothing happened. Gets irritable and annoying when hungry and her mom refuses to let her go out with her friends until she eats like, a piece of raw beef to get her shit together. Secretly wants to drink her friends' blood but she's so deep in denial she won't even admit it to herself.

Vampire!Sasha is THE brooding vampire stereotype, she's so edward cullen coded it's actually embarrassing. You have it all: the supernatural piggyback rides, the angsty distance, turning her face away because she can barely resist the temptation... Marcy thinks it's genuinely cool when she finds out and offers her blood a little bit too eagerly, while Anne just blinks and goes "sure. she's a vampire now. okay. this definitely won't awaken anything in me" while Sasha is throwing the typical tantrum like noooo im a monsterrrr stay away from meeee and it's all shits and giggles until she actually caves one day and bites Anne all of a sudden.

Vampire!Marcy is still her adorable but traumatized self who Anne and Sasha are very determined to protect and that includes feeding her, something that Marcy refuses to do for so long, still haunted by guilt. But then Anne craddles her in her arms and offers her neck to her and she just can't hold back - you wouldn't expect a vampire to be so docile, so small, and fragile, but that's precisely how Marcy looks when she feeds, her loves always making sure she's healthy and safe.

[passionwillow]

I need some angsty poly smut with deaconxlucaxpluszise!reader(afab) pretty please ❤️‍🔥🥰

Who am I to object?? 😩❤️ As a thick/curvy girl myself who has days I feel amazing and days I hate myself, this brought me much joy. DID NOT PROOF READ I just rolled with it.

“Do I look pretty today?”

The question was innocent enough. You stood in the bedroom studying the way the blue sundress fell over your plush thighs, running your hands over the fabric and scrutinizing the way it hugged your waist. The sunlight pouring in from the window accentuated everything you were looking at.

Usually, you were fairly confident. You usually loved your curves, the flair of your hips and your plush ass. You usually loved your thick thighs, the way they moved when you walked.

Today, you just felt- off. You felt gross, you felt nasty. You felt like all your curves were in the wrong places, like you were a huge, lumpy mess.

You didn’t hear Deacon get up from where he sat on the bed, still wrapped in a towel from his shower this morning. You just saw him appear behind you, arms winding around your middle as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Pretty? Baby, you look gorgeous in that little dress. I mean- I’d maybe prefer it was shorter, but..” he trailed off and smiled at you in the mirror, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “That’s just me.”

You leaned back into his embrace and smiled, the scent of his shampoo and body wash filling your nose as you shrugged. “I just don’t-.. See it. Not today.” He nodded in understanding and looked over his shoulder as footsteps approached, Luca entering the bedroom and smiling at the both of you. “Morning, guys. Everything alright?”

He wandered over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, large hand sliding into yours as the smell of salty water and fresh air invaded your space. You figured he’d been out surfing early this morning, it's usually where he disappeared to before you or Deacon woke up.

"Someone is feeling a little self conscious today." Deacon explained, looking back to you in the mirror and smiling as his hands moved to your waist, squeezing briefly. Luca frowned and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing and sharing a look with Deacon before leading you over to the bed. Deacon released his hold on you and followed, sitting beside Luca so you were standing in front of both men, your hands playing with the skirt of your dress as your toes curled in the plush carpet beneath you.

"Did something happen, to make you feel this way?" Luca questioned, his hands resting in his lap. You blushed at his concerned eyes, the way his brows furrowed in worry. Luca was always the most sensitive when it came to your feelings, taking it to heart whenever you were upset. Deacon was the type to roll with your feelings, offering a solid support and being a rock to lean against whenever you needed it. A perfect balance, in your opinion.

"No, no, nothing happened, I just.. I'm just having a bad day, y'know? I don't feel all that great about myself today, I feel a little.. Gross." You trailed off awkwardly and looking down at your nails, suddenly very interested in the chipped polish on your fingers. Luca frowned more and looked at Deacon who was perched on the edge of the bed, head cocked as he studied you. "Well, that just won't do to have you feeling that way." He said in that soft, husky voice that made you squirm.

Luca was quick to pick up his tone and smiled, looking at you and rooting you to the spot with that piercing blue eyes. “I agree, I don’t think we can have that today.” He echoed, and before you knew it Luca had stood and scooped you up, gently tossing you into the cream duvet and grinning at your squeak of surprise.

“I think we’ll just have to take the morning and show her how gorgeous we find her.. What do you think?” Deacon asked, crawling up beside you and lying on his side, hand already finding its way under your dress. “I think that sounds like a plan.” Luca purred, crawling up and sitting up on his knees, removing his hoodie and white muscle shirt in one go, letting the clothes fall to the floor as his eyes roamed over you, as if deciding which part to dig into first.

You loved being at their mercy. Laid out on the bed, resting against pillows and letting them have their way with you. Deacon and Luca loved having a pillow princess, and you loved playing the part.

Deacon’s touch was feather-light as his calloused fingers roamed up your thigh, playfully snapping the band of your panties and letting out a soft tsk. “I think these will have to go, hm?” He rasped in your ear, warm breath raising goosebumps over your skin. You bit your lip and nodded quickly; the wetness pooling between your legs had certainly already soaked them.

Luca slid his hands under the skirt and eagerly tugged them off, eyeing the baby blue fabric and the wet spot that gave you away. He smirked and tossed them to the floor, shaking his head as he moved between your legs. “We’ve barely touched you, and look. You’re soaked.” His voice was soft and teasing, a contrast to Deacon’s hungry brown eyes that were currently drinking up the sight of your cleavage.

“She’s just excited, aren’t you?” Deacon teased, gripping your inner thigh and pulling gently, guiding you to spread your legs for Luca. You obeyed without question, biting your lip as the cool air brushed your sensitive folds. You were aching for friction, anything to give you a release.

Luca pushed your skirt up around your waist and settled himself between your legs, eyeing the mess between your legs and chuckling. “Excited might be an understatement.. Christ, baby.” He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs and nipped every so often, making you squirm and whine for his mouth to move, move closer.

Deacon chuckled and kissed your throat, tugging your dress down to reveal your tits and cupping one in his large hand, fingers quick and nimble as he teased the peaked buds on your chest. “So needy, so wet, huh? But you look so goddamn beautiful when you want a cock in you.” He growled in your ear, each pinch and tug at your nipples making you whine and moan, sending shocks of pleasure right to your core. The sheets had to be soaked beneath you at all the teasing.

Luca's tongue finally, finally dipped between your folds, his hungry sounds making you blush as he lapped and suckled and drank up your juices like they were a delicacy. You moaned in relief and rolled your hips as he feasted on you, tongue rolling over your clit and making you curse. "Oh, fuck, Luca, right there-" you gasped out, eyes closed and head rolled back on the pillows. Deacon watched with dark eyes, smirking at the needy noises coming from your mouth as his hands continued to roam over your chest.

"You look so gorgeous right now, baby, look at you.." he rasped, kissing your cheek and letting his nose glide across your skin. "So needy for someone's mouth on your pretty little pussy, huh?" It never failed to turn you on how Deacon spoke. Sweet and soft words one moment, then the filthiest dirty talk the next. He knew you loved it.

Luca's mouth was making the most lewd noises from between your legs, lips sucking on your sensitive bud and pulling off before diving back in, tongue dipping inside you to draw more moans and cries from your lips. You were sweating at this point, panting and whimpering as he assaulted your sensitive folds. Deacon finally released his hold on your plush tits and moved his hand back to your thigh, kneading and giving the flesh a soft smack.

"Let her cum, Luca, I think she deserves it." He teased, and you whimpered pathetically, toes curling as Luca gave all his attention to your sensitive clit. The knot in your stomach was tightening, tightening, and you knew you were moments away from exploding.

Deacon read it on your face and moved his hand up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat in a gentle but firm hold, lips by your ear as he purred low and soft. "Cum for us, pretty baby. We got you, just let go. Let me hear those pretty little sounds."

Luca's tongue, the vice grip he had on your hips. Deacon's hand and voice holding you steady.. You came with a sobbing moan, back arching and toes curling in the sheet, fingers holding on for dear lift to the fabric beneath you. "Fuckfuckfuck! Yes!"

Deacon smiled and bit his lip as he watched you, his cock pressed to your side as he watched you unravel. Luca's tongue didn't stop until he'd lapped up all the juices you released, humming at the taste and pressing a little kiss to your clit before sitting up, chin wet and eyes shining. "You taste like heaven, baby girl."

You panted and tried to find your bearings, eyes closed and lips parted as Deacon gently pulled away from you, replacing Luca between your legs. You finally opened your eyes when you felt the bed shifting, and Luca gently guided you to sit up, taking a seat behind you so you could lay back against his chest between his legs.

You slumped into him with a hum, his strong arms holding you snug as Deacon removed his towel, tossing it with the growing pile of clothes. "Let's get that dress off, yeah?" Luca smiled and grabbed the bunched fabric, guiding it up your body and over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

Both men eyed your naked form with equal hunger and admiration. Luca ran his hand over your soft tummy and side, placing kisses along your shoulder and mumbling. "You are absolutely beautiful." he mumbled into your ear. Deacon hummed in agreement and ran his hands over your plush thighs, kneading the flesh and eyeing your body. "Like a fucking goddess."

You blushed at their words and squirmed, cheeks hot as you eyed Deacon and licked your lips. "I think I may need more convincing.." you teased, and both men laughed. "Happy to convince you all morning." Deacon purred, and grabbed your hips, pulling you down the bed to him in one smooth motion.

Deacon loved to surprise you with his strength at random times. He knew you were self conscious sometimes about him and Luca being able to pick you up, move you around, and he loved proving you wrong. He could man handle you for hours (and had, on multiple occasions, to your immense pleasure).

You gasped and laughed as you shifted on the bed, Luca moving to sit back on his heels, your head in his lap. "You've been such a good girl for us, yeah?" He looked down at you and grinned, brushing your hair back before moving his hands to your chest, Deacon letting his cock brush your soaked folds and nestled between them. "She certainly has." he murmured. You arched up into his hands and bit your lip, eyes still on his as you gasped at the thick head nudging your entrance.

Luca held your gaze as Deacon slid into you, your juices giving him all the lube he needed to sheath himself inside you. Your eyes rolled back in bliss at the fullness, the burning stretch.. You groaned shakily and clenched around him, Luca giving your nipples a harsh tug as he praised you. "Look at you, beautiful, taking that cock.. Such a good girl."

Deacon smirked and lifted on your legs, letting it rest on his shoulder as he wasted no time fucking you in. You cried out in surprise and reached up to Luca, holding one of his hands over your breasts and cursing as Deacon's cock kissed your cervix. "Fuckfuck- Fuck, baby, that's it.." Luca held you steady as the younger man pounded into you, his own grunts and groans mixing with yours.

"Beautiful baby.. So fucking beautiful." Deacon groaned out, his voice gruff and raspy as he watched you. Your head limp on Luca's stomach, back arching as you tried to fit him even deeper. Deacon was an expert at reading your body language, what you needed in the moment. He grabbed your hips and fucked into you rougher, smirking at the choked moans and cries you made.

"That what you wanted, baby? This pretty pussy is so hungry huh?" His voice wavered slightly, breathing growing hard as his own pleasure coarsed through him.

Luca watched you with dark eyes, sliding a hand over your tummy and pushing down, his own erection pressed against you. "Fuck, baby, you're taking him so deep. Can feel it in your cute little tummy."

You moaned clung to his arm as Deacon fucked you senseless, panting and whining as your walls fluttered around him, toes curling. "I'm gonna-.. Baby, I'm so close.." You pleaded, body shaking with the overwhelming pleasure you were wrapped in.

Deacon hummed and kept his harsh pace, cheeks flushed and chest moving rapidly as he panted. "Pretty baby wants to cum, huh? Do it. Cum for us, princess, let us see you fall apart."

His firm words went straight to your core. He knew you liked being told what to do, and he took advantage of it. Your walls clenched around him and your second orgasm rushed into you like a train. You cried out their names, both of these wonderful men who loved you, and Luca held you snug, sweet talking you through your high as Deacon fucked you through it, hips driving into you like a piston until his own orgasm hits

He came with the most delicious groan, grinding his cock into your soaked cunt until you were filled with him. He panted and leaned down over you, holding himself up with one arm as he caught his breath, eyes on your face as you trembled from the mind blowing ride. “Fuck, princess, I love you.” He whispered, and you forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking a grin and mumbling. “I love you too.. And you. I love you, Luca.”

Both men grinned at you, and Deacon gently slid out of you before laying down, Luca shifting to lay on your other side as your legs got feeling back into them. Both men showered you in kisses, Deacon nosing your cheek as Luca kissed your shoulder.

“I hope you realize we aren’t done yet.” Luca purred, hips rolling into your thigh as you let out a groan, your pussy already fluttering at the thought. Deacon grinned at your reaction, hand sliding to your thigh. “We promised all morning, didn’t we?”

You made a mental note to be self conscious just a little more often as you gave yourself over to them.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

★ synopsis: unrequited love manifests itself as a beautiful disease

★ character: zayne

★ cw: first-person pov, university au, hanahaki disease, ANGST

★ word count: 2k

★ a/n: zayne my angsty king. who needs happy endings am i right??? (i'm so sorry)

Google Search: Why am I throwing up flowers??????

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings, or when the victim dies. The flowers can now be surgically removed, but all feelings towards the beloved will dissipate.

I already knew what it was. Everyone does. From the first tulip petal I coughed out while working on my essay, to the bouquet that came up from my lungs, covered in blood, just days later.

It was progressing rapidly as the days went on, and everytime I took a breath my lungs would constrict; the vines curling around them, crushing my breathing ability, and my heart.

At first, I tried to ignore it. I’d go out with friends and attempt to go to class, but I felt embarrassed. Ashamed, even. I could feel their eyes on me, watching as I tried to smother my chokes in the middle of a lecture, only to have to dismiss myself to throw up a rose in the hallway.

It’s not like I could go through campus and see him, the one who gave me this. I ignored his calls, ignored his texts. Not that they came often anyways.

‘Are you okay?’

No, Zayne, do I look like I’m okay? I’m sitting in a pile of flower petals and my own blood on my bathroom floor.

Zayne. He was my childhood best friend, and growing up it always felt like I had to fight for an ounce of his attention. He was top of the class in highschool, popular with all the girls for being smart, stoic, and undeniably sexy. Not once did he entertain any of them, and it made them want him so much more. I was excited for college, thinking I could finally have him to myself, without feeling like I was sharing him with the whole school and his extra curriculars. I knew realistically he’d still lack the time for me, studying biology to go to med school, become a doctor, follow his dreams; and I would never be one to step in the way of that. I knew my place. I was just his best friend. I was aware there were boundaries I shouldn’t cross.

At least, until now.

I remember the moment it hit me.

After days, weeks of begging him, I had finally convinced the introverted, brooding nerd to go to a stupid frat party. For the laughs, I had said, follow the college stereotypes. ‘You only live once, Zayne!’ He humored me, I’ll be grateful for that. Giving it barely an hour (and a few free drinks), he quickly got sick of everything, inviting me outside. We sat outside on the driveway, the cool air a breath of freshness compared to the stuffy, sweat smell from inside.

A dumb rap song played inside, and Zayne looked over to me.

“Slow dance with me.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes, knowing it was the alcohol talking and not him. He’d regret this in the morning, and I’d get a stern talking to.

He stood, reaching his hand out, narrowing his eyes. I took his hand, figuring the least I could do was indulge in this moment. For once, his attention was fully on me.

I laughed as we swayed together, a muffled remix of a shitty rap song as our only background music. Looking up at him, I questioned when he had grown up so much. His once round, soft face with chubby baby cheeks had matured into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones I thought about grazing my hand over. Behind his eyes wasn’t a childish glint anymore, and I wondered how long ago that disappeared.

Pressing my face into his chest, I only felt us. One of his arms around my waist, the other holding my hand that was pressed against his shoulder. My free hand clutched his black jacket, like he would disappear into thin air, and my grasp was the only thing keeping him here.

To a passerby, it would’ve looked like a movie; two college kids dancing together outside of a frat party, holding onto each other like it’s the end of a world. In the movie, the two best friends would confess to each other the next day. The boy would rush to the girl's door, with a bouquet of flowers, gasping for air, saying “I love you, I love you, I love you, I never realized that I did.”

But only I realized. Only I realized I loved him.

Zayne never showed up on my doorstep the day after he walked me home that night. The only flowers I got were the ones that filled my lungs.

I refused to speak to him. I wasn’t mad at him, why would I be? It was my fault for forgetting my boundaries. For forgetting the rules. For thinking I had a chance since all the little highschool girls no longer followed him around like lost dogs. For once thinking that I was no longer his side character, for thinking maybe I could be his love interest in his story.

What would I say to him if we did speak? I couldn’t hide what was growing inside my chest. I couldn't hide my split lips from the thorns, or my scratchy voice. The dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, too busy catching up on work from missed classes and not getting a break from coughing or vomiting. Tell him I was sick? He’d scold me for not taking care of myself, that I need to rest and eat properly. I didn’t want to hear it, scolding me for something he caused. His concern would only grow when I would accidentally cough up a flower in front of him.

Would he ask who I loved? Or would he just look right through me and tell me I needed to get the surgery to fix all of this. ‘Nobody is worth that kind of illness’ He’d say bluntly.

I knew I couldn’t face him. Not knowing if he even cares, yet knowing that the way I look at his face is different from the way he looks at mine. How he sees his future with someone who isn’t me.

“What are you going to do?” I was hanging out with a friend from one of my classes, Tara. She was the only person I felt like I could confide in about all of this.

We were hanging out at one of the campus coffee shops when I told her. It was a good day for my lungs, after almost overdosing on decongestants and ibuprofen.

“I’m not sure.” Twirling my spoon in my cup, I avoided her eyes. “It’s not like I can get the surgery. I can’t afford it.”

She looked me up and down, and I felt as if she could see into my soul. She did, Tara was like that.

“Can your pockets not afford it, or can you not afford it?”

Tara was right. I could afford the surgery, my university healthcare covered the surgery since students caught the disease so often;

But my heart couldn’t afford it.

It had gotten so used to loving Zayne, it would feel empty without the compassion for him. I feared I may act differently, lacking all love for him. Would he even notice?

I quickly made up my mind, looking out the window - seeing the person I dreaded the most.

Zayne sat outside in a car on the other side of the street, and I could only tell it was him if I stared hard enough. He was holding the hands of a girl I had seen around campus. Zayne had briefly mentioned her a few times, talking about the assignments they’d work on together, and I never thought too much of it.

He brought their hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand, and each of her knuckles. His face was gentle, a look I had never seen on him before. She giggled, and I wondered what it would be like to be her. To have him stare at me with all the love in the world, to be able to feel his soft pink lips I had stared at so many times, wishing to just touch, to just feel. To be on the receiving side of his care, his compassion, no more blunt harsh responses and stern looks.

“Hey-”

I turned back to Tara, and coughed up a flower on the table, and I choked back a sob. Tears threatened to poor, but I couldn’t embarrass myself more than I had with the bloody peony in front of me. She came around the table and hugged me, and I mumbled through quivering lips, “Can you take me home please?”

That night the girl had made it official that she and Zayne were dating. All the pictures on social media, the hearts that their friends commented on each other's posts. A disgruntled feeling made my chest spasm, any time I’d post a picture of Zayne he’d make me take it down immediately.

The morning of my surgery, I got up and put on my favorite sweater Zayne had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday.

“I got it for you last month when you stared at it in the shop’s window.” He smiled when he saw my excitement, one of the rare moments I could see his lips turn upward.

On my walk to the bus stop, I saw him sitting there. Once he looked up and saw me, he stood.

“Where have you been?” Zayne looked at me and frowned. I suppressed the immediate urge to roll my eyes.

“I never see you around campus. You’re never in your usual spots, and I texted you. I was supposed to help you study. Are you still attending your classes?” Even after not seeing each other for weeks, he still found a way to shame me. His eyes hard, lips pressed together into a tight line, I wasn’t even sure he was happy to see me.

The bus pulled up.

“Are you going to take the bus?” I asked him, avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “No, I’m waiting for-”

“Yeah, okay. I have to go.”

“Wait,” I turned around to him. It had begun to snow, so the small flakes sparkled on his head in the early morning light like glitter. He always loved winter, the snow.

He stared at me for a few seconds before shaking his head, changing his mind.

I nodded. “I’ll see you, Zayne.” Saying his name felt like acid on my tongue.

Turning around without taking another look at him, I boarded the bus.

Two days later, when I finally came home from my surgery, the only difference I could tell at first was that my chest didn’t hurt anymore. I could finally breathe again without feeling like I was choking on air. The doctors gave me a bag of all the flowers that they collected out of me, and at first I refused to look at them.

Yet as soon as I got home, I felt compelled to sit on my floor and sort through them.

I made piles of each flower, twirling them in my fingers before placing them in their designated places. Some had long vines that I used to tie them together into a crown.

After I finished, I spotted a jacket under my bed. I pulled it out to see it was the black jacket he wore the night we danced together outside that stupid party.

I took a deep breath of it, wishing I would feel the same way I did that night;

But I felt nothing.

It was now just a jacket. He was now just Zayne.

I put it on, wrapping it tightly around my body. I nestled the flowers along my head like a crown of thorns.

Looking at the girl in the mirror, staring at her with her blood stained flower crown, I broke down.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[autumnheartsprice]

The Hidden

Alpha!Price x Omega!Reader

|gn!reader, no smut, abo dynamics, little but not really angsty, crying, fluff|

An Omega who was a part of the military was rare, nearly non-existent honestly. Weren't even reliable enough to be an assistant on base.

That's why you hid it. After years of mistreatment and abuse of power from your higher-ups, you retired that lifestyle. With a few scent blockers and pheromone perfume to make your scent more like a beta's, you progressed your way to a Sergeant. It wasn't the easiest to have to hide it in front of a team full of Alpha's and a Beta, but that's the only way you'll be able to continue working with them.

That's why, when you were assigned to help your Captain set up a safehouse in the middle of a forest and hours away from base or even any publicity, you didn't bat an eye.

It's day two of setting up the safehouse. After just arriving yesterday, only the smallest things were completed as the hours spent hiking up the mountain to this spot used up all energy from the both of you. You dug through the items that still needed to be sorted and put away, trying to make piles of similar items. Price was outside chopping some wood for the cabin's fireplace, the cool breeze outside only to get worse by nighttime.

Once most of the items found a home somewhere in the small cabin, you started putting together a small dinner of chilli for the both of you to share. Price abruptly opened the door, carrying an armful of logs as he quickly shut the door behind him, the coolness of the air already entering inside, the breeze sending a shiver up your spine.

Price sets the chopped wood by the door, rubbing his hands together before toeing off his boots. "Sorry love, 'tried not to let the cold air in." he muttered as he started taking his jacket off. He noticed your nod, the only form of response from you. He sets his jacket over a chair before walking to the kitchen, eyeing the pot of chilli you were making, before leaning against the counter to where he could see your face. "Ye alright? Haven't said much since we got here." he says, taking notice of your pink cheeks. "Look a bit feverish there, love." He adds, walking over to feel your cheeks with the back of his hand, only to feel your soft skin burning up.

He notices how you tense up and move away from his touch as he feels your cheeks. "I'm fine, sir. Must just be the weather gettin' to me." you explain. You turn the stove off and move the pot to a different burner before grabbing two ceramic bowls for the each of you. His brows furrow in suspicion but decides to let go of it. "Alright, if you say so, Sergeant. I want you to rest up after supper though, you hear me?" He states, leaving no room for rebuttal like you usually would, but you only hum in response.

He watches you only eat a few bites of chilli, only forking at your food before eventually getting up and excusing yourself to the bedroom. He watched you walk away as he finished up his own food, before cleaning up dinner and saving leftovers for it you got hungry later.

It was his night to sleep on the couch since he got the bed last night, although he forgot his charger. Making his way up from the couch with a grunt, he walks to the bedroom, stopping himself from knocking as he thought he heard something. Small whines and whimpers came from the other side of the door, too lost in your own pain to hear his footsteps walk up to the door. His Alpha heart aches at the whimpers, sensing the Beta in distress; he slowly twists the doorknob and lets himself in. The room was pitch black, only the small bedside lamp illuminates a quarter of the room. Your back was facing the door, not sensing him letting himself in.

He makes his way into the room, silently shutting the door behind himself as he walks around the bed and to you. He starts to strongly pick up a sweet scent from you, way too sweet than your usual self, but a bit bitter. He makes his way in front of you, seeing your head put into the palm of your hands. He reaches his hand out to slowly pet your head, only for you to quickly snap your head up at the sudden touch and bare your sharp canines, a low growl coming from deep in your throat before you even realize you were doing it to your Captain, of all people. He moves his hand to scruff the back of your neck and calm you, which works as it usually does with you, but your sweet scent starts to turn more bitter and sour. He finally gets a better look at you, seeing your cheeks flushed with sweat dripping down your forehead, your hair sticking to your face, and pupils wide.

"Jesus Christ, the fuck goin' on with you?" He mutters, expecting a damn good reason for why you look like you just crawled out from the pits of hell itself. He gently puts your hair behind your ear to get it out of your face. You shake your head, acting like you don't know, which very clearly doesn't meet his expectations. "You tell me what the fuck is happening right now. That is not a question, that is an order, Sergeant." He husks out, gripping your jaw and pulling your face up to look at him.

Your eyes start to brim with tears, your chest tightening and getting harder to breathe; he only tightens his grip on your jaw, expecting an answer. "P-Please.. I.. I need you, Alpha.. please, just do something.." You whisper, voice shaking with anxiety as you pull the collar of your sweater down, exposing your inflamed and very red scent gland.

Price lets go of your jaw and steps back, taking in the sight before him. Only Omegas get inflamed scent glands like that... Only Omegas..

He has to force himself to take a deep breath to remain calm, he can't scare you in a state like this. For fucks sake, it'll take hours to even get help to you.

"You.. You're an Omega..?" he slowly asks, taking a step closer to you. He watches as a tear rolls down your cheek as you hesitantly nod. "I-I'm sorry.. I'm so so sorry.." You quickly mumble, hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. "Hey.. sh, shh.. it's alright, love.." He whispers, slowly taking your hands in his and pulling them away from your face. "Let me see, okay? Can't help ye if I can't see what I'm working with, lovie, I'll be nice and easy." He soothes you. Gently rubbing the back of one of your hands with his thumb as he uses his other hand to lower your shirt collar again to reveal your scent gland. You unconsciously tilt your head to the side so he can get a better look. He softly runs his thumb over your inflamed gland, causing a pained whimper to leave your mouth and making him pull away.

"Alright, lovie, it's okay, I'm not gonna touch it no more.. Let's take this off of ye, okay?" He explains, carefully taking the fabric of your shirt into his hands, he looks up at you for your consent and with your nod, he gently pulls it up over your head. He brushes your hair behind your shoulder as he thinks.

"Love, I know you haven't been fully honest before, but right now, I need you to tell me the exact truth so that I can help you." He says, a firm tone in the Alpha's voice which makes you whine. "Are you in heat right now or is this from abusing scent blockers?" He asks. He watches as more tears roll down your cheeks, he's sure it's from the stern voice during a vulnerable moment like this or even from just plain embarrassment or pain, but he doesn't have time to worry about emotions than your physical health. He sees you stick up 2 fingers to silently tell him it's the second option and he nods.

He's sat on the bed with you in his lap, your back against his chest, and the two of you both shirtless. He rubs some soothing lotion on your scent gland, having to hold you down as you try to get out of his grasp as you whine in pain. He whispers soft reassuring words as he tries to get you to lay back against him. "C'mon, sweet girl.. it'll be better once I can get this on ye." Which somehow gets you to rest your back against his chest again, earning an "Atta girl." as he starts to continue treating the inflammation.

He gets you to rest for a little bit, almost falling asleep before you start to whimper in agony, trying to claw off your scent glands, before he quickly realizes what you're trying to do and pries your hand away from your neck. He sighs, not knowing what to do anymore to help you besides give it time. He wraps his arms around your chest to pull you back against him, and he starts to pick up that bitter, almost rotting, smell again. "Sweetheart.. ye gonna let yer Alpha scent ye? Hmm? Help make the pain go away?" He murmurs into your ear. He gives you time to think, before he sees you nod and he knows that's the only response you'll give him until you feel better.

He readjusts you on his lap, turning you around so that you're facing him, telling you what to do if you ever want him to stop. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. He nudges his face, telling you to tilt your neck more, which you do. He rubs his scent gland against yours, starting to scent you. He feels your head fall back in relief; He puts a hand behind the back of your head to give you support while continuing to scent you. His gruff beard rubs against your soft neck, reminding him to shave in the morning. He feels his heart ache listening to you whimper and cry on his lap, but he knows it's because it's making you feel better.

You soon fall asleep in his lap, finally feeling comfortable enough. He takes advantage of this and lays down, letting you lay on top of him. He pulls a blanket over the two of you but doesn't turn the lamp off, not wanting to not be able to fully watch you in case of anything.. Or because his Alpha instincts are taking over and want to protect his Omega.

PT. 2?

[biteofcherry]

Shh, I'm having a fluffy, but angsty thought about babies and Steve and Bucky.

They're both so elated when your baby is born, doing their best to take care of the baby and providing you with all the care. But you're in that hormonal drop and emotions are confusing, and your head comes with this anxious thought that now Steve and Bycky, who were always so in love with each other, now have their baby too and won't need or want you 🥺

Those awful thoughts that they're taking all the responsibilities, so they can ease you away and have their own little family, not needing you anymore.

Which, of course, is far from the truth. They both love you deeply and would never imagine life without you. They're just so emotional about being daddies, and they also want to care for you.

[cannibalistickitty]

—HEAD IN THE

WALL—

୨୧ plot: you knew your boyfriend had trouble showing affection but did he even like you?

୨୧ warnings: angst, happy ending, ooc!megumi but IDGAF!!!!

୨୧ notes: help this has been rotting in my drafts for months anyways happy b-day megumi:3 here’s an angsty fic for y’all😇

you knew he loved you, maybe you hoped he did . it was fine that he couldn’t show his affection, that was okay . but sometimes you needed it . you were understanding, but when he gave a girl his number because she seemed “nice” you wanted reassurance, you wanted to feel it, feel and know that he loved you . megumi sat on the edge of your bed, you had been talking for about a half hour, every once and a while he would nod and give short responses, was he even listening to you? he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you didn’t know why but he said it would just be for the best

the doorbell rang, you quickly opened the door to see nobara and yuji outside your house . you four had planned to go out and get lunch, megumi quickly put on his shoes, you had already been ready for an hour . now you were walking to the small cafe where you were gonna eat, today you felt brave, so you brushed your hand against megumi’s, trying to hold his hand . yet he just pulled away and went to catch up with nobara and yuji who were in front of you both, leaving you to walk alone

you felt like crying . you didn’t even feel like talking to him, you knew he had trouble showing affection but it felt you questioning if he even liked you . you could only hope he did

lunch was…interesting, you stayed quiet the whole time . megumi had seemed to notice but he didn’t quite care . you and him lived on the same street so when you all split up to go home you were stuck with him, it shouldn’t be awkward, you love each other . but it was, it was really awkward . the walk home was silent, occasional throat clearing was all that was heard . “you wanna come over to my house?” you asked megumi in an almost pathetic tone

“oh—uhm—I have some things to do . at home .” you awkwardly nodded, “kay” you unlocked your door and slipped inside your house, you ran up to your bedroom and grabbed your phone, playing your favourite cry song, what else was a hurt girl supposed to do? you sobbed into your pillow, you missed him . you missed when you were friends, somehow he was more open before . you cried on your bed for what felt like hours, you couldn’t take feeling like this, you felt unloved . you turned off the music playing in your headphones and sighed

days went by where you didn’t see him, you completely ignored him, you truly didn’t want to see him . yet you were the only thing on his mind, he wanted to see you and feel you again, he regretted not holding your hand, he knew it meant a lot to you . he felt like he failed you . lucky for him you were only a minute away from him . on a Sunday night he made his way over to your house, he missed your voice, maybe you’d be up to hanging out?

he rang your doorbell, you were usually the one to answer, and just like every time you when the door opened there you were dressed in your pjs . “megumi? what are you doing here?” he froze, he didn’t know what to say, he probably should have practiced what he was gonna say . “I—miss you?” it came out more like a question, the frown on your face indicated you interpreted it as a question . “that sounded like a question, megumi” you said in a flat tone

“fuck” he whispered, the one time he tried to finally share something with you he did it wrong . “do you wanna come…inside?” he nodded and you stepped aside, closing the door and leading him to your room . he sat down on your bed with you, “can i ask you something?” his head perked up, “uhm—sure” you sighed, “do you actually love me?” his eyes widened, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to be vulnerable but he didn’t even want to let you down again

“please don’t..lie to me” the fact that you thought he’d have to lie about loving you hurt him . he wanted, no, he needed to show how much he loved you, so he thought what better time to do it then now? “i love you” he gently grabbed your hands in his, his sudden action shocked you . he let go of your hands and hugged you, everything that didn’t happen was happening at once . “megumi what has gotten into you” you chuckled, “i love you, a lot” he mumbled into the crook of your neck . he wanted to hold you forever and reassure you that he did love you, but for now he could just hold you

since that night he’d been more affectionate, not too much but enough for you . he told a couple of his friends about your relationship, and now he would hold your hand in public, sometimes . your connection felt stronger, sometimes when you would kiss him you noticed a light tint of pink of his cheeks . you felt like you had him back, like your megumi was finally here . you had planned your first sleepover, it was on a saturday night and it just you and megumi

saturday night came quickly, you and megumi laid in your bed, no lights on except your small salt lamp next to your bed . you were both getting sleepy, rain tapped against the window as megumi read a book to you, he noticed how you started to look very tired, like you were about to fall asleep . “okay i think that’s enough for tonight” he said and you nodded, he put the book down on your nightstand and shifted into a more comfortable position . he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, what was he doing? he absolutely never did this

“gumi what are you doing?” you said in almost shock, “cuddling my girl, what else would i be doing?” he muttered into your hair, “mh—okay, goodnight…” you said in a suspicious tone, he kissed your neck, “goodnight” he said before turning the lamp off

[demisexual-in-distress]

HELLUVA BOSS SPOILERS !!

First of all, I'd like to acknowledge the fucking banger in the room I see u barrett

But I genuinely thought that Octavia was going to sound like a broken record, angsty teen with the same reoccurring drama with Stolas. Yeah, it's reoccurring, but I think it makes sense now. Octavia is seeing through a very emotional lens, as a teenager (especially one accustomed to many privileges)---so yes, it's gonna be angsty!

Stolas was just figuring himself out and going through second adolescence with Blitz in view. He was also immature and forced to grow up and become a father at a young age. He was forced into the life he had and didn't have much of an option. We already know all this, and we know that people get distracted when new shiny things are in the picture---Blitz. But Via, being someone who hasn't gone through those struggles, sees it as Stolas cheating and getting all happy about Blitz when his family was supposed to be right there. Shouldn't she be all that he needs?

Via didn't know that Stolas is depressed. It's a heavy topic when it comes to a loved one, especially when you're their child. I understand that she feels bad, like she's not enough for him, like it's something she did being one of his only loved ones. She doesn't understand that depression is more complex than that in this moment because, again, she's seeing through this emotional lens. Her responses are entirely emotion based.

All this is later stated, and I think it makes sense. Finding out that Stolas is depressed seems like it was necessary for Octavia's drama to continue. I know people didn't like that she kept saying the same "you don't care about me" thing, but I feel like she required a lot of validation with Blitz being around. Octavia has always been accustomed to being Stolas' only loved one (that we know of). Now, that isn't completely secure anymore. As previously mentioned, she's accustomed to the privilege of being his top priority. She isn't used to sharing the space, and Blitz taking it over doesn't make sense because Stolas was supposed to be in love with Stella. Were they not a happy family? I know to some it seems small-minded of Octavia to never know about the conflict and tension between Stella and Stolas, but Stolas loves her very much---enough to go the extra mile to hide the abuse.

TL;DR: This is a lot to throw at a teenager. Give her some grace in navigating it.