#bc then i want to fix what is broken and make it better in my fics

[sensitivedead]

.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[idontmindifuforgetme]

as a 21 year old i feel like i really need to drill it into myself that social media fomo is not real and i will not be missing out on anything by not checking my phone immediately. like literally nothing is important enough or worthy enough. i am not missing out. i can get to it when i get to it and i would be just fine.

i think i really need to learn how to cold quit things... one habit i have that really bothers me is checking my phone first thing in the morning bc it's "just for 5 minutes" "just to see if anyone sent me anything important" no bitch literally nothing on your phone requires you to check your phone first thing when you open your eyes!!! stop it

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

Part 2

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[sundogsandrainbows]

Well said! It's interesting to see how the sentiment toward the game has shifted into negative by now where ppl were able to finish it. I see it on steam, youtube, da reddit... everywhere. Just as an observation. (If you like the game, I am happy for you, but this post is not for you, lmao)

I also feel sorry for the people who went in blind to start playing all the dragon age games in preparation to Veilguard's release. Like, just to give an example: I follow 2 women youtuber going through the series since VG's announcement in June (July? What is time 🙃) and one of them is in the latter half of Inquisition now, and the other has not started DAI yet. But since they both avoid any spoilers, they are fully unaware that none of their choices made and currently agonize over, and over endless hours of streaming and playing the games , at that, will matter and yeeeeeah. Gotta be a soul-crushing discovery to make, (certainly was for me and prematurely killed all interest for it i had) They might end up liking VG or not, no idea i am not in their heads lol, but they will also find out how spiteful current bioware is with the games that came before their soulless slop and they just finished/loved and yeah... gonna be 😬 😬 😬

And that where they are for all sense of purpose those garnered new players of the series, but one who played all the games. So I highly doubt they will appreciate having their worldstate and characters shat on and destroyed tbh. Same as for (us) longtime fans, of course.

So I really don't know who the fuck this scorched earth, 100% more illuminati shambling corpse, dumbed down, soulless full reboot with DA in ™ name only should be for next game (if there is one.) Because they effectively killed DA the series with Veilguard, then set it on fire and pissed on its ashes. Hope it was worth it for muuuuh neeew players, u shortsighted twats (EA included here, always included.)

I hope Bioware is happy about the flood of “I don’t care about this series anymore” “I regret any time I spent playing it” “I don’t want anything to do with this game or series” “I wish I didn’t have any merch/hadn’t ever spent my money on them” responses I’ve been seeing

Congrats on alienating like 75% of the playerbase for “new players” I guess??

Not sure how rebuilding a fan base from the ground up is going to work for them moving forward, especially since I can’t help but think new people who DO like Veilguard are going to go back to the other games and retroactively be like wait why… why did they just ignore all of this?

[sideeve]

can you do a miles e42 fix based off of broken clocks by sza

U LUV ME | with 42!miles

— it’s been 3 years since you’ve dated him. why he still talking about you like you together ? i’m not officially back but i just LOVE this concept. and i love sza🤭 ex!miles, both characters are like 17-18, reader has a younger sister, simp!miles fr, reader is still in love with miles but is stubborn, probably makes no sense whatsoever

“ma,” miles kneeled in front of you. “i’ll do anything to win you back. swear. i’ll drop the prowler job. anything.” his hands were wrapped around your legs as he begged for you to take him back.

“you swear?” you pull him up, he now towers over you. “swear.” his lip inch closer to yours “i lo—”

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” your sister, nicknamed yaya, repeatedly hits you in the face with a pillow. “damn. i’m up, i’m up.” you sit up as she hits your back.

you grab the pillow, throwing it in her face. “i said i’m up.” “mama said you better be ready in 10 minutes or you’re gonna have to find another ride to work.”

you turn your head, looking at the clock.

it read 9:45.

shittt.

“get out so i can get dressed.”

*time skip*

you had barely made it in time for work. “hi, welcome to [ insert favorite cafe ], how can i—get out.” your voice was quickly filled with hatred. “chill, ma. i just wanted coffee.” the boy laughs. “not from here. go.”

you refused to serve him. you knew what was to come next.

“i miss you.”

“my mom won’t stop talking about you.” know well it was just him ranting about how he wanted you back.

“i want—”

“you want a caramel frappe, no whipped cream, a chocolate chip, warmed. i remember.” you deadpan. “i want something else.” your brows raise in shock, “so you have changed.”

“you.”

you groan. you bit your tongue, trying so hard not to yell at him to get out of your store. “i take that back.”

after completing his order, you slid him the drink and cookie, “that’ll be 12.65. cash or card?” he slid you a 50. “keep the change.” he walked off, sipping his newly made drink.

*time skip to the next day*

the day before was stressful. you had karens upset bc you didn’t give them a drink at 75 degree exact, too many customers, not enough staff. it was a miracle you made it out alive.

your sleep once you got home was well deserved. it was peaceful.

until the next morning. your phone was blown up by your best friend trying to get your attention.

[ name ] ! when did u and miles get back together ?

[ name ] girl wake the fuck up.

i know you see these messages. don’t make me come to your house.

answer me hoe😡

you quickly unlock your phone,

“tf r u talking abt?”

he posted on his private story. sum abt “when you two talk it out and cuddle” some shit like that. the caption had you name on it

your head hangs low when they sent the screenshot.

this motherfucker is really delusional.

“we never got back together. tf is he on?”

you threw on some clothes, storming your way to miles’ house.

you knew his mother had work at this time so you have no mercy to his front door. “miles, open this fucking door. imma kick it down.” your tone let him know you were pissed. he opens the door, “what are you mad about ma?”

you raise your phone at his face. “what is this?” he leans back, getting a good look at it. “oh, i was letting people know you’re mine.” you tilt your head, eyes squinted. “are you fucking crazy? what part of “we’re broken up” do you not understand? we ain’t together. end of story.”

he laughs, making you more upset. “that’s what you think. why do you think no one has asked you out yet?” he smirks. “because they know that you’re mine. anybody who wants you gotta go through me first. and you and me both know that’s not gonna end well.” he snickers.

“miles—” “i’m not done.” he cuts you off. “look, i know me being the prowler affected our relationship. but i’m done with that. completely. i’m focused on you right now. i’m tryna do better for you.” he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“i’m yours.”

you smirk at him. “and how do i know you don’t have any hoes in your phone right now?” “be reasonable right now.” he smile drops, his nostrils flaring. “okay, i was joking.” you laugh.

“so, what’s this mean ma?” you purse your lips, “i guess we can get back together.” he grins, pulling you closer. “you don’t know how much i missed you. and this ass—” his hands squeeze your ass before you smack his hands away.

“i can always change my mind, miles.” “okay, i was just kidding.”

[karoochui]

What im hearing is:

Little crow feet outside my window bcs im feeding them- that’s besides the point!

Is there magic??? His shovel looks magic and they look magic

And do give me every detail you are thinking of for the series even if its in the distant future or not that relevant but you want to share

Crows!! Cute!! Also sorry i didnt get to this sooner my laptop BROKE (still broken but usable) and my mom and i have been looking for someone to fix it. Ive been drawing with it sparingly to be careful.

YES there is magic. Of course im still working on this storywise but im getting characters designs n whatnot done right now. Dynamics n stuff. BUT i do have some refs i made before my laptop broke.

I like to draw out certain stuff so that it helps with descriptions in the future; i have the worst memory so it helps to be able to do so. (More beneath cut)

Im so excited for moon's shadow form. Oh my god. Its probably my favorite thing right now.

Fun thing about it is that in this form he can touch you but you cant touch him. Something something you can be cast in shadow but you cant take it off yk? He's still light sensitive like this though, so if the area hes in isn't dark enough or he's hit with anything too bright he just reverts back. At that point he'd just have to rely on normal hand to hand stuff and his sand lol. The shadow form is just better for sneaking and speed. Really, he's some amalgamative idea of the sandman and boogieman. I thought it fit well with his whole "naptime attendant gone wrong" thing.

Sun's design, however, is more like if you mixed a cowboy, wizard, and gravedigger together. I made it a while ago on a whim with no intention behind it but then i ended up thinking "ykw would be so awesome".

The hat dips to cover the crescent side of his face (not intentional on his part) to symbolize his resentment towards moon and how he basically damned him to an hourglass. His eyes are easier to see bc of this which could seem more trusting (eyes are the window to the soul or whatever), but the thing is thats not normal for him (as we know) so it's meant to make him look suspicious and looming to 4th wall viewers. There's also the fact that i just thought it was cool too.

He also doesn't get a second form. Moon's sneaky and weird so i thought it would fit to give him some freaky thing iykwim. Sun, however, is a pretty "in your face" kinda guy, so his look and fight style is more extravagant and boisterous. Lots of swinging amd yelling and boom bang zap! Despite the showiness he's actually a longer range fighter. Mainly because unlike moon, thousands of years ago, he wasn't often one to get violent with his hands. His weapon is just obnoxiously large too though.

They are still one animatronic and their transformation is still triggered by light. Instead of an AI chip though (which is still in there but long dead), they live through the work of a soul. They're still physically inorganic but as far as spiritually they're as close as they're gonna get to being human. Their life and functionailty is derived from the magic itself, not the machinery. Like if for some reason they lost all their magic they'd just drop dead from a battery life long since drained.

The hourglass has a carousel-like design to it purely as reference to moon's level in Help Wanted 2.

Sorry for rambling so much but this is what i've got for you so far! I have a general idea for the plot but im tryna to make it more than what it is rn, so i dont wanna share too much of that just yet in case i change or completely toss away an idea.

[andradrawsstuff]

An au I came up with bc I’m coping and I’ve seen too much sad stuff recently

The sacred timeline? Deadpool x Wolverine reference haha

Just a silly idea inspired by ep 7 that came to me out of nowhere bc I’m coping with how it ended and I’ve seen so many things that are rlly sad and I just want all my bbs to be happy so im gonna self-indulge for a bit

Also mostly from Zaun POV rather than Piltover

^ Quick sketch of 20-something Viktor adopted by Silco and Vander <3

- Silco gets the letter and him and Vander make up

- Young Viktor meets Silco instead of Synged and is adopted by Silco and Vander (parents are dead rip)

- Becomes an older brother figure to the kids, especially Powder and Ekko

- Vi doesn’t die in the explosion like in ep 7

- Powder brings the crystals home and shows them to Viktor

- Viktor’s interest is piqued and sneaks into the apartment to explore the building after the kids tell him what they saw in there

- Coincidentally meets Jayce trying to jump

- “Am I interrupting?”

- Jayce doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore after his work has been taken, but Viktor admires his genius and invites him to help in the undercity instead

- Jayce introduced to Silco and Vander as Viktor’s “friend” from topside who has nowhere else to go but wants to help out

- They’re skeptical at first, not knowing his intentions

- Jayce meets the kids and realises they are the ones who caused the explosion, but Viktor intervenes and tells them that they’re all here now so just accept it and move on - plus Jayce has nowhere else to go

- Jayce and Vi start connecting more (and become the disaster duo)

- Zaundads notice random things start getting fixed, an unintentional thing that Jayce does: he sees something broken and repurposes/fixes it

- But when he fixes things he usually leaves a trace of how it was broken (idk how to explain but the example when they don’t get rid of the cracks in the table but fill them with gold)

- Viktor notices and points to Jayce, making Silco and Vander more accepting of him

- They also notice how good he is with the kids and how close he and Viktor have gotten

- They participate in the innovators competition

- They start to study and develop Hextech to help the people of Zaun

- Synged creates shimmer and works with Finn and the his lot, which eventually starts becoming a problem

After the time skip

- Piltover and Zaun are on better terms, but there are still tensions between them

- Hextech is developed for the undercity rather than Piltover (they still almost end the world lmao but it’s ok they figure things out through the power of love 💀)

- Shimmer is becoming a major issue that starts spilling into topside, with the scientists trying to find a way to combat it with Hextech

- Mel meets Jayce and Viktor, interested in their work and combating the shimmer problem

- Jayce, Viktor, Silco, Ekko and Powder also work together now

- Jayce and Viktor are lab partners

- Jayce, Viktor and Silco help with medical research

- Ekko and Powder are Heimerdinger’s students at the academy

- Vi is a sort of authority figure in the undercity, with Vander teaching her how to run things

- Works with Sevika and helps her out

- Meanwhile Caitlyn is sent to investigate a case involving shimmer on the border between cities

- Vi and Sevika go to investigate too

- Vi meets Caitlyn

- They start working together on the investigation as figureheads for their cities

- Vi takes Cait to the undercity to look for clues

- They run into Jayce, where him and Cait reunite

- Powder and Ekko participate in the innovators competition

- Ambessa hears about the shimmer problem and visits Piltover, creating tensions between her and Mel

- Mel realises that she’s only going to create more trouble, so she starts working to lessen the tensions between cities and crack down on shimmer

Uhhh idk what next but I’ve edited this a couple times to add more stuff

Currently rlly busy with assignments so I don’t have time to write a whole fic but I’m jotting down ideas and I rlly wanna do some concept art for this idea 🙏

I might also do some headcannons soon ✨

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Dragster League ~ BC

WORD COUNT:4.4K

GENRE: Motorsport AU, established relationships, angst, moody chan taking his anger out on everyone around him, yn being there for him no matter what, cute, fluffy ending, arguments. @preciouslilmonster

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

They say one second can change your life forever and it was Chan who knew that saying better than anybody lately. One second had completely derailed his life and his career and none of it was even his fault. 

"We the jury find the defendant...." The whole of the room seemed to drown out around him as Chan focused on the jurors, some looked guilty while others smirked at one another and nodded their heads as if they were proud of their answers. 

All year long Chan's life had been put on hold for this moment and it was going to be a life changer either way. The clock on the wall seemed to tick by slower as Chan swallowed the lump in his throat awaiting the verdict that could potentially ruin him. 

Chan lay there in the hospital bed staring down at his wrist in silence, everyone in the room was drowned out as he just stared down at the cast that now covered his right hand and wrist. It was a black colour - fitting since he felt as though a part of him was dying, ever since that damn accident he couldn't shake the feeling that nothing was ever going to be the same again. 

"He'll more than likely never be able to drive again," "We don't see it being a possibility for him to get complete function in that hand again"

He'd been pretending to be asleep while the doctors spoke to his parents about his condition, although it was 26 years old it didn't change the fact that his parents were always going to be there supporting him and be his emergency contact in cases like these.

"We can recommend some physiotherapy but it might not be able to get back to 100%" The doctor explained making Chan's stomach sink to the floor, if his hand wasn't back to 100% he was never going to be able to race properly again. The judges who determined whether or not he could race would disqualify him, and replace him with someone new and someone who wasn't broken.

"I came as quickly as I could-" Your voice broke Chan out of his daze as he stared over in your direction, your outfit was dishevelled and you looked like you were sweating. You'd been running, running for him? Your keys jangled in your hand and he smiled a little, he knew those keys well. They belonged to the car the two of you had built together four summers ago when you first started dating one another and it still ran like a dream.

Mostly because you and Chan would fix anything that went wrong with it, not wanting to lose something the two of you held so close to you. But now that he thought about it, it made him feel sick he was never going to be able to make a car with you again, not with the same strength he did before. His life was over and he knew it.

"What happened?" You whispered rushing over to Chan and looking down at him, his heart picked up a little as you smoothed your hand over his cheek and placed a warm kiss on his forehead. You'd been working when you got a text telling you Chan had a small accident and you put everything down and ran out of the shop without a word to your employees. You must have broken about 16 traffic laws trying to get to the hospital but you didn't care, all you wanted to know was if Chan was alright.

"His car was faulty, he crashed-" The doctor explained calmly as if it was the most normal thing in the world but you cut him off.

"Crashed?! And I just got a text?! How?! H-How did it- How fast was he going?!" You'd been at work when you got a text letting you know your boyfriend had an accident and was in the hospital. You'd expected that he'd fallen over or something not a crash.

"I wasn't going fast, I was doing a test run on the track. I went around the corner and my brakes-" Chan tried to explain but someone cut him off,

"His brakes were fine." A man's voice cut off from the door, you glanced up to see the manager of the race track - Ryan- staring in his direction, Chan physically tensed from beside you. 

You knew he didn't like him and with good reason, not only was he the manager of the race track where most of Chan's races took place he was also the father of one of the racers Chan beat every single race. Ryan was a sleazeball and an unnerving feeling made you think he might have had something to do with it, especially with the way he was trying to gaslight Chan.

"We checked the car, nothing was wrong with it. You must have hit the wrong pedal." Ryan said as if it was the easiest thing in the world for someone to do, but when you'd been driving as long as Chan had it was damn near impossible for that to happen.

"I've been driving for 10 years, I didn't hit the wrong pedal!" He growled out, your hand squeezed his shoulder a little as you stared at Ryan something didn't feel right about any of it.

"My brakes were cut," Chan mumbled and you looked down at him, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes he was sporting. It wasn't like Chan to cry over something so you knew he must have been telling the truth about the car brakes, Chan knew when something was wrong with a car and you KNEW he wasn't one to push the wrong pedal. 

"I'll have my men look at the car-" Ryan tried to say but you weren't going to let some creep take the car and ruin any chance of finding out the truth.

"I'll do it," You shot out quickly, not wanting anyone to tamper with the evidence if what Chan was saying was true.

"Excuse me? I'd rather have a fully qualified team look into it, luckily I have those on hand." Ryan snapped out, and Chan's mother let out a low chuckle at the thought of Ryan calling you unqualified to do your job. Something you'd been doing for almost 10 years of your life now, you'd been raised to do this job.

"All due respect, Ryan. I am a fully qualified mechanic, I will look at the car with MY team." You shot him down and the man narrowed his eyes at you,

"You're a woman." You blinked at him, as did Chan's parents who seemed to wonder what significance it had to the subject. Meanwhile, Chan was smirking to himself on the bed, this was going to be the best entertainment he was going to get for a while and he was going to soak up every second of it.

"Yes, and you're a man...I'm so glad we could establish this," You scoffed sarcastically at him, reaching for your phone and already calling your Autoshop,

"But-" The phone rang as Ryan tried to come up with something he could say while you - along with everyone else inside of the room - stared him down,

"Are you trying to tell me women can't be mechanics?" You arched a brow at him and one of your workers on the other end of the phone answered but you stayed silent,

"No...But-"

"Are you trying to avoid me looking into my boyfriend's car because you have something to hide?" The other line of the phone "Ohh'd" and "Ahh'd" listening to you and you did your best to hide the smirk,

"No..."

"Then I suggest you stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours," You turned away from Ryan and began talking to your team on the other end of the phone while Chan watched you with a proud smile on his face.

After a few days of being in the hospital, Chan was finally released and let home, you were doing everything to make it accommodating for him but that didn't mean he was doing the same for you. 

Since the accident Chan had turned into a mean old man, snapping at everyone whenever they'd bring up the accident or even mention his wrist being broken. You'd managed to stay out of his line of fire...until tonight that was.

"Have you managed to look into the car yet? My brakes weren't working," He told you as you bought him some hot chicken noodle soup. He wasn't sick but you still liked to make him this meal whenever he was upset, sometimes it felt like a warm hug to you so you wanted to do everything for him.

"Not yet, Vinny and JJ are going to help me look tomorrow,"

"You should have been looking at it before now!" Chan yelled a little and your whole body went numb. In the last five years, Chan had never once raised his voice at you, not even to yell for you to bring something down from upstairs and it made your stomach churn.

"Chan-" You tried to speak but he cut you off, yelling once again,

"You've done nothing but sit around and play fucking nurse and I'm sick of it! You should be figuring out what was wrong with the damn car!" Sighing to yourself you placed the bowl of soup down onto the bedside cabinet and tried your best to stay calm with him.

You knew he was only taking his frustration out on everyone else but that didn't mean he got to do it to you.

"I've been trying to make sure my boyfriend is okay!" You argued with him, losing your cool a little but not yelling half as loud as he was.

"Try doing your fucking job first," He hissed out bitterly in your direction, staring over at the TV that was at the end of the bed where it had been since he came home playing the same reruns of his races again and again while he laid there. The doctors had been offering him physiotherapy for his wrist once the break was fixed but he was refusing everyone's help. He chooses to feel sorry for himself instead of actively trying to fix the problem or even accepting that he might need a little help with it.

"You're lucky it's only a break Chan, we can get it sorted." As soon as you said it you knew it was the wrong choice of words,

"Lucky?! You think this is fucking lucky?!" He screamed out, losing his temper as he held up the cast that was on his wrist,

"I'll never be able to race again! I'll never be able to build a car again! This isn't fucking lucky!" You flinched at the way he yelled, you knew deep down that Chan would never hurt you but you hated when people screamed. It made you feel like you were 1 inch tall and you felt sick to have your own boyfriend doing this to you.

"You could! If you just accepted that you needed help from someone for once in your goddamn life!" It was wrong to yell at him but his screaming at you had been the straw that broke the camel's back. You'd put up with a lot from him, watching him push everyone around him away or refuse to help himself when the doctors offered him it.

"Get out!" He barked out and you felt your whole body drain itself of its blood, you felt cold at the thought of him kicking you out of your shared home.

"Chan-" You pleaded, you knew you shouldn't have yelled back at him. It was never going to stop him from yelling it would only make him double down,

"Get. Out." He bit out, staring at you as he turned red in the face.

"Please...I-I just want to help you," Your voice cracked as tears welled up in your eyes threatening to spill out,

"Help me but figuring out what's wrong with the car." He grumbled as you stared at him and over at the clock at the wall. It was the middle of the night you had nowhere else to go but the shop.

"Call me when you decide to apologise, Christopher." You mumbled grabbing a coat from the back of the bedroom door and going to the wardrobe to fish some spare clothes out and shove them into an overnight bag.

Part of Chan wanted to beg you to stop packing but it was dulled down by the stubborn part of him that just wanted to push everyone away from him. He didn't want help, he didn't want to feel like a burden to you or to anyone else he wanted to be the one to fix this all on his own.

As much as he loved you and the caring side of you it only made him feel worse for you to sit there and wait on him hand and foot, to be there whenever you thought he needed you. It was the last thing he wanted and he knew he was going to have to do a lot of making up to you to make up for the way he had yelled.

It had been a week of constant calls and texts from Chan asking you to come back home, he'd even had Changbin drive him down to the shop so that he could come and see you but you refused to come out of the office when he was around. You were doing what he told you to do, trying to figure out what went wrong with the car, and you'd been strictly instructed to have no contact with him or anyone else from the race track.

"Anything new?" You glanced up at Chan who was standing in the doorway to your auto shop, you were hanging over the bonnet of the car. In his hand was a bouquet of your favourite flower and your favourite take-out in a bag. Anxiety bubbled inside of your throat as your head shot around to look for anyone suspicious that could be looking this way.

"You can't be here," You whispered moving away from the car and ushering him out of the shop. It wasn't because you wanted him to feel bad anymore if anyone saw him here and reported it everything would be thrown out of court,

"If investigators see you're here they could try and say I was swayed into taking your side, I can't discuss the case with you," The police officer that had been around that morning told you the rules pretty clearly and you weren't going to give them any reason to throw his case out.

"Case? What case?" The look of pure confusion on his face made your stomach drop and you pulled him into the storage shed you kept on site and you blew out a breath.

"You don't know?" You assumed his lawyer would have been in contact with him long before now.

"About what Yn, you're confusing me."

"That slimey little fucking weasly." You hissed out losing your cool more and more with every passing second.

"Ryan took your case to court. I assumed you knew. You need to get a lawyer and you need to get one quick." You told him as you glanced over at the crack in the door to make sure no one was listening in.,

"He what?!" Chan's heart began to pound as he thought about it. Second guessing what happened that day on the track like he'd been doing since it happened, did he hit the wrong pedal? Did he push it hard enough if it was the right pedal? 

Those questions had been swimming around in his brain for days now and it was something he could never answer unless there was footage of the inside of the car.

"He's trying to prove he had nothing to do with the accident, which only makes him look more guilty. I have four days left with the car before I hand it over to the police who then do their own tests."

"Did you find anything?" He looked down at you and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Chan, I can't discuss it with you, they'll throw it out."

"Okay. But there's a camera inside, it usually records everything. Footwork, my face and the speedometer." You frowned a little, you'd been all over that car with a fine-toothed comb about six different times and hadn't found a single camera inside the vehicle.

"I haven't found any cameras in the car..."

"Someone tampered with it before you got it." He whispered, he knew someone had fucked with the car but it was going to be hard to tell who with the cameras being gone.

"There's a little box under the hood. It's like a plane's black box, it records everything. Every pedal pushed, every speed, it tracks everything. Records everything. It won't have footage but it'll tell you if I hit my brakes or if they failed." You'd worked on many cars in your life but motorsport cars were something completely foreign to you which was why you hadn't figured it out yet.

"Chan-" You were going to tell him it was against the rules for him to tell you any of this but he shook his head at you.

"I was never here, you got this information from someone else." He whispered to you as he put the flowers and food down on the table inside of the shed.

"I love you...Okay? They're not letting me go near you until the invitation is through," You whispered as you reached your hand over and gently touched his cheek. The court had put you up inside a nice hotel until the investigation was over, and you'd promised to stay impartial to anything you found inside the car.

"I love you too, I'm sorry I yelled." He whispered before leaning closer and kissing your lips softly, god he'd missed getting to touch you like this.

"I'm sorry about everything." You whispered but Chan stepped back and shook his head at you.

"No. Don't, YOU have nothing to apologise for. It was me, you're right. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and accept help," You nodded a little and glanced over at Vinny who was coming toward the shed.

"Vinny will take you home, keep your head down in the back of the car until you're in a safe spot." You whispered to him before quickly kissing him and darting over to Vinny explaining the situation.

Throughout the entire trial, the defendant's team had been trying to get your statements and professional opinion thrown out of the case. First, they'd tried to claim your relationship with Chan was going to make you biased but once the prosecution relayed that your findings matched with theirs that was thrown out. Then they'd tried to play the "woman" card because you couldn't possibly be able to do your job since you were only a girl.

"How long have you been working at Vinny's, Miss yln?" Chan looked at you but you'd been instructed not to look at him throughout the whole trial which was hard since you missed him. It had almost been four months with no communication with one another besides small glances during meetings or the occasional letter that Vinny passed along for you which had been meticulously read through by officers to make sure you weren't passing information about the case to each other.

"Could you please repeat the question?" You leaned forward and stared at Ryan's lawyer who appeared to be smirking to himself.

"How long have you been working at Vinny's Autoshop?" Chan bit back a smirk as he hid his mouth in his hand and looked down at the paper in front of him.

"I think the correct question to that would be, how long has Vinny been working for me? Sir," You stared at him as he appeared taken back. You weren't about to sit here and let someone else take credit for your own auto shop, something you'd been working from the ground up since you were nineteen years old.

"I own Vinny's Autoshop. Vinny's sounded better than "Yns" Autoshop." You told them plainly making a few of the jurors laugh at the fact that the defendant team got something very wrong.

"How is it, that a woman of your nature could run an auto repair shop?" Mr Can was starting to rub you the wrong way but you weren't about to let him get to you.

"Objection," Chan's lawyer yelled out, staring at the judge who seemed to be tired of this case, after all, it had been going on for almost two weeks now.

"Mr Cane, relevancy to the case?" The judge questioned, staring at the lawyer who shrugged his shoulders,

"Trying to determine how she could run a place and look too good. I mean, her hair and nails are done up, she doesn't appear as though she could work in such a tense environment dominated by men."

"Proceed." The judge watched as you looked at Mr Cane and smiled sweetly, if you had it your way you'd have ended him harshly days ago when he tried to dismiss you.

"Mr Cane. If you believe a girl can't look good while working in a "tense" environment then how do you explain women who are lawyers?" You countered his statement but he didn't appear taken back by it,

"What do you do? Make them coffee while they do all the work in the shop?" He chuckled making your blood boil. You were told to appear calm on the stand but that didn't mean that you were going to be able to.

"No, but I could tell you how to do a tune-up, oil change, brake relining, engine rebuilds and I could even instruct you how to make a car with scrap parts." You stared at him as he stared at you in silence, blinking a little.

"But is it true you aren't an expert on motorsport cars?" The air turned thick and you stared at him. After Chan's visit to you, you'd done every single bit of research that the world had to offer on the cars.

"Yes, that's true." You glanced over at Chan's lawyer who smirked and nodded at you. You had them right where you wanted them now and you were able to bring out the hidden gem you'd been storing away, 

"But I am fully qualified enough to be able to find the black box that has all of the recorded data on it from the car in question." Instantly the court began to gasp out and murmur to one another as Mr Cane wandered back over to Ryan who appeared to be looking more nervous as time went by.

"Order!" The judge boomed out as he stared around the room, glancing at you and back over to Mr Cane who was shaking his head.

"The court will take a quick recess. Mr Cane, I suggest you figure out another line of questioning." He grumbled before leaving the courtroom. 

"We the jury find the defendant...." The whole of the room seemed to drown out around him as Chan focused on the jurors, some looked guilty while others smirked at one another and nodded their heads as if they were proud of their answers. You looked over at Chan and smiled weakly, you knew he was putting everything he had into this being a guilty verdict and you'd prayed for the best outcome for him. 

"Guilty. Guilty on one account of tampering with the brakes. Guilty on one account of removing the cameras from the vehicle and guilty of inflicting grievous bodily harm because of tampered vehicle." The court screamed out and you ran over to Chan throwing your arms around him,

"You did it, baby!" You screamed, kissing him all over his face and he let out a small chuckle.

"We did it," He whispered before kissing you deeply, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you. Moulding together perfectly as you made out heavily in the court room and Ryan was taken away in cuffs.

It had been a constant battle inside of Chan when he was in physiotherapy, everything inside of him told him to quit but if he had he wouldn't be here right now and on top of the winning podium accepting a trophy.

"I wanted to do a quick speech, to my friends, my family and just everyone who supported me throughout the whole trial." He spoke into the microphone as you watched him from the sidelines.

"None of this would have been possible if it wasn't for my future wife pushing me," You stared at him, your whole body burning as he called you his future wife when the two of you weren't engaged...yet. 

"If it wasn't for Yn pushing for me to go past what I thought I was capable of I never would have gone through therapy for my hand and I never would have won this race." He breathed out heavily as he opened his arms for you to come onto the stage and you slowly walked over you him and into his waiting arms. Whining a little as you realised just how many people were watching from the race course and at home,

"I love you and without you, I wouldn't be here," He told you - and the rest of the world that was watching live on TV.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life with you and with racing but with a twist." He told you before turning back to the cameras,

"As of today this is my last race and I'm retiring."

"But your hand is back to 100%" You reminded him but he turned and smirked at you, it was true his hand was better than ever but it didn't mean he was going to race forever.

"I want to pass the racing torch to someone else while I focus on my future with Yn. But I'll still be here, we...will be," He smirked before a curtain dropped behind the stage and people began screaming and cheering wildly.

The track - previously known as Delmar Racing - was changed to "The Dragster League" making you giggle a little. The dragster was what you and Chan had named your car.

"Channie," You whined out before he kissed you deeply, erupting cheers around you, all of it fading into the background as you continued to kiss the love of your life.

[huuuuughes]

Mine. - Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Jeremy comes over to beg for your forgiveness, and things quickly take a turn... but not for the worst.

Word count: 3.3k (its short ik im sorry)

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, bad writing??? idk this is porn OKAY READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. pls dont read if you're under 18 thank u!!

Note: i wrote this awhile ago for goalie week and then a bunch of stuff happened and i kept forgetting to post it bc i started my first full time job a month ago and its kicking my BUTT. anyways thanks for reading :)

You could hear your phone going off from across the room. It was Friday night and the end of a very long work week. Your boss was driving you up the wall and your personal life didn’t seem to be going much better. Your friends were good, you just didn’t get to see them as often as you wanted due to just being adults and everyone having their own full time jobs. 

The one person who was supposed to make your life easier, better even, was the one currently blowing up your phone. You knew exactly who it was, but he deserved to sit there and stew for a while. But as you looked around your apartment while trying to decide what show to numb your mind with, you noticed things of his strewn everywhere. You didn’t live together, not yet anyway, but based on the amount of things you had at each others’ places, you may as well have. 

Your work involved working with many different clients, and making their dreams come true. You were a travel agent, and your boss didn't exactly adhere to the typical 9-5 schedule like a normal job. If you were awake, she expected you to be able to take care of the problem. 

You had already decided long ago that men didn’t always think with their brains. Jeremy was jealous, but of what you had no idea. Did you have a lot of clients who were men who wanted to surprise the lady in their lives? Yes. Did those scumbags also try and make a move on you sometimes? Also yes. But you were a professional, and always conducted yourself as such. As much as you wanted to, it wasn’t your job to fix someone else’s insecurities. You could tell Jeremy that he didn’t need to be jealous until you were blue in the face, but you didn’t know when he was going to get it. You weren’t broken up, but you’d told him you needed a minute for him to calm down. It had been a few days at that point, and you couldn’t deny you were also getting antsy. He may be a stupid guy sometimes, but he was yours.

After what had to be the millionth time of your phone going off with a DING of a text, you made yourself get up off the couch. The last message you had read:

Sway❤️: I know I’m stupid. I need you to know I’m sorry. Can I see you, please? 

After the stressful week you’d had, you wanted nothing more than to feel his familiar warmth around you. The moment he was near you it was like the noise around you calmed down to its lowest level. 

Y/N: I’m at home, you know where to find me. 

Sway❤️: I’m on my way, be there in 20. I love you. 

The next twenty minutes were going to kill you. Your apartment was already cleaned, because you liked to clean when you got anxious as mess only made you more anxious. Your doorman would recognize Jeremy and send him up when he arrived, so you didn’t need to even get up to let him in. He had his key, he knew exactly where to find you. 

After an eternity, at least what felt like one, you heard the familiar sound of a key in the lock. He quietly took off his shoes by the door, and locked it behind him. 

“Babe?” He called out, already walking toward the living room where you sat. 

“I’m in here!” You called back. Relief washed over you when you saw him, but you didn’t get up and go to him. He had to earn you back the way you deserved. 

“Where should I start?” He asked, sitting down in a chair only a few feet away from you. 

“How about how you shouldn’t act jealous of my stupid clients? Or any man that I’m ever with that isn’t you? Do you really think I’m that crappy of a person that I would EVER cheat on you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that because you’re the best person I’ve ever known, but-“

“BUT WHAT JEREMY?” You screamed, and you know it came out louder and meaner than you wanted it to. He recoiled a little bit but didn’t lose his energy. 

“I’m stupid. I’m a stupid guy, who knows you are way out of my league. It sounds like a dumb excuse, but I’m so scared of losing you. I want you, I want to love you, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. But you’ve seen the league, you’ve seen what this life can do to relationships and what it turns people into. I don’t want anything bad to happen to us. I know this isn’t the life you signed on for. I think about you being at home alone and I hate it.” He looked defeated and like he meant every word he’d said. 

“You can’t lose something you already have.” You wanted to close the space between you so badly. 

“You still want to be with me?” You got up and walked to the kitchen as he asked, putting away the wine you’d gotten out so it wouldn’t spoil. He followed closely, less than a few steps away. One giant step and he’d be able to close that space. 

“I wouldn’t have told you to come if I didn’t. You just needed to listen, and you weren’t hearing me. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, that isn’t who I am.”

“I hear you loud and clear now. And I’m not jealous, you’re just mine.” The tone in his voice shifted to another one you recognized. 

“I’m yours huh?” You said it like you were challenging him because it sounded like he thought he already won. He should be fighting for you and showing you what that means. 

“Do you need a reminder?” He closed the space, so his forehead rested against yours. You could feel his hot breath on your face, breathing in time with you. Without warning, you pressed your lips against his with a new hunger behind you. You’d missed this heat between you, the raw need to have each other right in that moment. 

His hands explored your body, finding their way to your ass and lifting you up onto the counter. It was cold against your legs, the shorts you had on weren’t very long and you felt every inch of cold countertop but you didn’t care. His lips left yours with a moan and began making their way down your neck. You could feel how wet you were already getting, responding to his touch so quickly. You reached for the hem of his shirt and motioned for him to take it off. He complied in earnest, his mouth immediately returning to you.

Lifting your shirt up and over your head, your breasts became exposed for him to devour. He licked around your nipple, biting it and chasing you to arch off the counter while letting out a scream. Your nails were digging into every spot on him that he could reach. Momentarily he kissed your mouth again, bringing his still covered cock against your center. You could feel it hard against you, the friction only giving you the slightest relief. 

“Please daddy, please I need-“ You tried not to beg but the torture was killing you. 

“Tell me you’re mine and I’ll give you exactly what you want. Tell daddy who you belong to princess.” He whispered in your ear, continuing to kiss around your neck in the spot he knew you liked. 

“YOURS. I’M YOURS!” You needed relief or you were going to go insane. 

“Now was that so hard baby?” He asked. You didn’t even have the time or energy to reply as he pulled off your shorts in one big motion. 

“No underwear? Even better.” You attempted to push his head toward your swollen clit, but he wouldn’t go faster than he wanted to. He kissed and bit your thighs, leaving marks where he knew no one could see. You’d have those marks there for weeks. Each kiss he got closer until you finally felt his tongue brush against your clit. You shivered as he began to devour you, your thighs clenching around his head not wanting him to escape.

He pulled back but only for a moment, instructing you to lick the fingers he was putting in front of your face. You did as he asked, and he resumed going after your pussy. In a new move, he inserted his fingers into you as he continued eating. His tongue was licking in time with his fingers as they pumped in and out of you. He was hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know was there.

“Holy shit don’t stop, don’t stop PLEASE.” You were writhing on top of the counter as he struggled to hold you in place. He knew you were so close to your high, edging you just along that fine line. You’re burning up and he knows it. His other hand reaches up and pinches your nipple before grabbing onto your breasts like they were his lifeline. 

You cursed him silently for having hair you couldn’t grab onto, but you pressed his head as if it could go further into you. His tongue quickened its pace, matching his fingers. You could feel your orgasm building and it was right there, all you needed to do was let go. 

“Let go baby girl, cum on my face for me..” He whispered against your clit,  and what came out of yours was a series of expletives that you didn’t care to understand. He could taste everything you were giving him, not stopping as you started to come down. Every nerve ending was on overdrive and he held you down against the counter. The wave of your orgasm rolled over you, your heart pounding in your chest. He didn’t let a single drop of you miss his mouth, and you saw his smile looking up at you as you tried to catch your breath. 

He stood up without breaking eye contact, and undid his own pants. He made sure all remaining clothes of yours were off, nibbling on your ears and down your neck as he did so. In a move of complete trust, he picked you up off of the counter and carried you down to where he knew your room was. His lips found yours again and suddenly your lungs were struggling for air but you didn’t care. Your arms were hooked around his neck as he walked, kissing him like your life depended on it. 

Setting you down on the bed, he laid you down on your back, and stood back to marvel at the sight of you. 

“You look… “ his brain was struggling to find the right word, “fucking stunning.” 

“And you have too many clothes on… sir.” You put yourself up on your elbows, looking down at his boxers that for some reason, had remained on. You didn’t need to let him finish what he was going to say, you needed him to do something more than speak. 

“Sir?” He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to you. 

“Did you like that?”  You knew he did but it was your way of teasing. His mouth was on yours before you could process his next movements, placing one hand to your side to balance himself and the other knotted in your hair, pulling your head back so you were looking up at him when he pulled apart. You didn’t even realize that his boxers were already off, as you felt his cock brush against your leg and pussy. 

His hand left your hair and explored your leg, getting closer to its destination. His face was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face and his fingers glided over your folds, but so lightly it sent a shiver up your spine. You could hardly catch your breath but you were dying for him to touch you, to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. You wanted him to hear you. His hand remained on your pussy, his fingers becoming soaked.

“So fucking wet for me baby.. did you miss me?” He quickened his fingers and began pumping them inside you. The feeling of his fingers wasn’t enough, you needed more and a whine-like moan escaped you. You whispered a response to him, and it spurred him on. 

“Please Jeremy please, please I need you inside me..” 

“That’s not my fucking name, not in here. In here I own you, isn't that right princess? Do you want me to be gentle?” You nod no, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Use your words princess.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t be gentle!” You tried pushing his head towards your core again, but he remained looking at you with his fingers teasing you. He added another, stretching you from the inside. You gasped and scratched your nails up his back. 

You gasp again, as you feel him part you with two fingers and put his tongue against you again. He wasn’t done tasting you yet.

“Please baby, I need your cock. Please!” Your mouth couldn’t move fast enough and you didn’t even care that he had reduced you to a begging mess beneath him. Your hips wanted to grind, needing more friction. You could feel your release building again as he sucks on your clit. It was right there, you could feel it as you clawed at your sheets trying to grab onto something but there was nothing. 

Your legs spasmed around his head as your release flooded over you and he ate you once again. 

“So fucking wet for me, you’re so stunning baby girl.” He kissed his way up your body and aligned himself with your entrance. He isn’t gentle as he slams into you as he kisses your mouth like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. 

You’re left begging for air as his head drops down, ducking your nipple into his mouth. 

“Oh god, oh fuck..” you cry out as he wasn’t holding back. He slammed into you over and over, bringing his hand up to find your clit. As he fucked you he was playing with your clit again, causing your wetness to pool onto the bed. Every single nerve you had was on fire, and only he could put it out. 

“Tell me you need it, tell me how bad you want you want my cum.” The hand not on your clit slowly moves up your body to the bottom of your throat and locking his hand around it. Not putting too much pressure, but enough to lightly choke you. Both of your hands gripped his arm as  you felt his cock filling you and his thighs slapping against yours. His speed was increasing and so was the hunger in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, fuck daddy please I need your cum I need you so bad..!” 

“You are mine, your orgasms are mine, everything about you is mine.” Without warning he withdrew from you, earning a desperate moan. Quickly he flipped you over into your stomach, pulling your hips back so you were on your hands and knees facing away from him with your ass in the air waving him in like an invitation. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He whispers into your ear from behind you. He places kisses on the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy, running his cock along your folds at the same time. He pushes into you again and holds back nothing. Jeremy grips both of your hips with his hands and brings your hips back to meet each one of his thrusts. The sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoes throughout the room, reaching spots inside you that you didn’t know he could. 

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, you collapsed into the bed as he fucked into you. 

“So fucking tight princess, this pussy was made for me.” His nails scratch down your back eliciting a loud string of moans. His thrusts become more erratic and he brings his hand up, then down to smack your ass as hard as he could. The scream you made encouraged him more, and you could feel a third orgasm building.

“Fuck daddy, please I’m right there I need to cum daddy please..” You didn’t know how he had gotten that many out of you, but you could already tell he was determined for more. 

“That’s it baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock..” He brought his hand around as he leaned into you to tease your clit some more. You were right there, you pushed back to meet his thrusts to get yourself over the hill and the relief washed over you. You moaned out his name, begging for him to fuck you harder and faster. 

He loved seeing his length go in and out of you, taking all of him so well. Spreading your legs to give him a better angle, his cock continued hitting that spot inside you. He slaps your ass again, and again. You cry out, knowing his release was close behind. His hands wrap in your hair and pull you back, making you arch towards him. 

“Fuck yes baby, you like it when I fuck you like this? You ready for my cum?” He chases his release just as badly as you want it from him, feeling him trying to reach his high. You nodded in response to him, not being able to form any more words. The only sounds coming from you were moans of encouragement, it felt like you could be on cloud nine. 

“FUCK!” He screamed as he pulled almost all the way out, slamming back in and releasing his load into you. Jeremy almost collapsed onto you, but he brought you into his arms as he pulled out of you as his cum slowly leaked back out. You knew he thought it was the hottest thing ever. Both trying to catch your breath and come back down to earth, he pulled you in once you laid down so that you were on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat going a million miles a minute inside his chest, but it brought you a sense of calm. Your person was back where he belonged, he had finally heard you. 

“I love you.” He finally spoke but he still sounded out of breath.

“I love you too.”

“No, you don’t understand. I love you, I really love you. THIS is what I want. This body, your perfect fucking curves. Every minute of every hour of every day, I want you. Not just your body, I want all of you. I’m sorry I was so stupid. I can’t promise you that I won’t make stupid choices sometimes, but I can promise to be better for you every day.”

“Jer-“ You attempted to stop him, you knew he was it too. 

“Please let me finish. I want to make you feel good, I want to be the person you want to come home to every day, I want to be the person who pushes you to be the best version of yourself and make you feel like the queen of the world. You’re it for me, there is no one else. I’ve spent my whole life doubting myself and chasing this dream I couldn’t even describe. But I can see it so clearly now, and I know that dream is you. And I want to be able to have forever with you, if you’ll have me.” You took a moment to absorb his words. 

“You have to make me a promise okay?” His eyes gleamed at you, like you were holding up the moon just for him. 

“Anything, you name it.”

“Promise me forever. There is no past anymore, there is only us and the future we make together. I want us to help each other be better. Okay?”

“Okay. How about we start forever now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[futureplayboibunnie]

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

[thinking-through-some-things]

What do you mean by the women from epic the musical was poorly handled? Can you explain? I’m interested bc I thought that too

ho boy, let's see.

there's definitely a general feminist critique to be had about how few women are in the musical and how small their parts are. obviously i realize the musical primarily follows the leading man and his male crew because that's just how the odyssey works. but it's still a conversation worth having, especially since there are ways to make the existing female characters better. the decision to base this on the odyssey is still a choice.

i don't have much to say about most of the monsters/goddesses. aeolus and scylla are fine. circe is okay, and she actually gets a few songs. personally i think god games should just be cut entirely; it's just athena justifying everything odysseus has done. hera is fine. i don't like how athena stops talking to aphrodite once ares shows up; the line that convinces her is "tell your lover that a broken heart can mend," which is directed at ares.

not mentioning anticlea until she's already dead means her death doesn't really have the weight it should. he's desperate to get back to penelope and telemachus, so it just feels like he forgot about his mom, which makes that tragedy feel a little unearned. he should be just as concerned to get back to her as he is the other two, which means he should mention her whenever he sings about them in the first act. then it would actually matter more when we find out she's dead.

the rest is under a read more because i wrote a lot about athena, and because i need to give a trigger warning for sexual assault for my other points.

athena is clearly the strongest female character and is positioned to be a foil to odysseus. that being said, i didn't really follow her shift in philosophy - going back to look at the lyrics it's because she blames herself for teaching him to be cruel? the goodbye at the start is weird - she's mad at him for not being ruthless, but really the problem is that he's arrogant - which is still something she could chastise him for. idk. either way i don't think her evolution was explored well at all - she basically just changes her mind because she misses him, not because she has actually seen anything to suggest mercy is good. and it's weird that she's only at the beginning, in the wisdom saga, and at the very end. her stuff isn't terrible, but it needs to be better distributed throughout the musical so there can be an evolution. give her one more song towards the end of act one, break up the wisdom saga so her story feels like it's part of the musical instead of a weird distraction in the middle, and actually show us why she starts to think mercy is good. as is her character is too reliant on odysseus in a way that really hurts that the story. bringing up telemachus earlier and exploring that relationship, or penelope and ithica, gives you a chance for athena to see something that helps her change her mind. (i have more to say about her story but that's just about fixing the plot. i think i've made my point here.

okay trigger warning for real.

calypso is really weirdly done. she has one song where she's pressuring him to be with her, and then a song where she refuses to apologize for "unrequited love" or something. odysseus is upset with her and struggling with ptsd in the first song, and then says he loves her in the second. it feels like the musical wants you to have an overall favorable impression of her. there's a lot of discussion about whether or not this is a case of sexual assault in the fandom posts i've seen, but i don't think that's something the musical is discussing. if anything, it takes the stance that it isn't, at least in this version, and that calypso is just some sad girl who wants to be loved. that being said, i've seen some pretty disgusting hatred directed towards calypso in those posts - not clear if it's for the original version, this one, or if there's any difference. either way, the musical needs to decide if calypso is bad/problematic or if she's good/misunderstood, and both of her songs need rewriting. (there's also something to be said about her being the only visibly black female character, but i don't know much about the actual actors for the musical so i'll leave this be for now. but that did stick out to me while watching the animatics.)

i have very mixed opinions about the sirens. the imagery of a group of men standing over and brutalizing a group of women as they beg for their lives was pretty heavy. i don't hate it - it very much sells the idea that the men have become monsters. however, it really bothers me that it basically just. happens. and then we move on. odysseus agonizes over so many choices, but this one seems like it was easy for him, and he doesn't suffer any guilt over it. no one challenges it. so overall it just comes off as a reason to brutalize women, which leaves a sour taste in my mouth. i wish we'd at least get pushback from some of the crew so there's at least some conversation about how maybe this isn't 100% justified. instead, the only mention of the sirens is in god games, where... apollo gives a half-hearted argument about how the sirens sing catchy songs. the other gods at least have a point. and with all of this, athena's retort just feels very victim-blame-y to me. overall, i think there's a way to keep the stuff with the sirens in - but there needs to be more delicacy in how the whole thing is handled.

and finally, penelope. she's probably the worst-written female character in the musical. she exists to 1) be odysseus's motivation/prize, and 2) assure odysseus that he's actually a good person and sure, every terrible thing he did was totally fine, no issue. her first song, which isn't until the last saga, just 1) tells us she's sad, and 2) gives us odyssey plot. the challenge doesn't really do anything to the musical's plot, so you might as well cut it. and her only other song is the finale, where she assures odysseus she loves him and never doubted him and she has no qualms over anything he did because she's a Strong Woman so she still loves him unconditionally. also the bit about the bed is confusing. it's clearly only in there because of the odyssey, and it makes no sense for the musical. penelope has no character in this musical.

(i acknowledge this is a bit hypocritical, but i would actually cut the actual penelope out of the musical. the mentions and cameos of odysseus's idea of her, and the bit with the sirens, can stay, but actual penelope never shows up. i would lean into the idea of her being his prize in a way that leaves you a little unsettled. but also i think odysseus should be the bad guy in the end, so.)

and finally, i hate the decision to introduce the threat of the suitors gang-raping penelope. we already know the suitors aren't great. they're demanding penelope marry one of them. they beat up the kid. there's no need to evoke such a graphic image; i felt sick the first time i heard it, and i don't even have experience with/trauma related to sexual assault. the only point of this song is to justify odysseus slaughtering the suitors, because actually they're all terrible, horrible people. which again just weakens the idea that odyssseus is some kind of monster, because this very intentionally makes him look like a hero. between the decision to downplay the idea of circe or calypso sexually assaulting odysseus (both interpretations popular in what fandom posts i have seen) alongside the brutal violence perpetrated against the sirens and the intentional addition of a whole song about gang-raping penelope, the musical has an uncomfortable focus on violence against women. it's gratuitous and serves no purpose.

[shewolf-sinclair]

I HATE when people dumb down Jason Todd “he’s impulsive/irrational/erratic/brash/dumb/the angry robin!”

WRONG

let me break it down for you fools because he’s actually like one of the most nuanced and complex characters to ever bless my presence (and he’s the best ((my fav)) robin argue with the wall) (tldr at the end but please read the post)

Starting out as robin they are ALL orphans. because that’s like bruce’s thing. BUT dick and tim had families before bruce adopted them. Jason did not. HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. (+10 points for truama✨) which led him to grow up to be independent and resourceful. Bruce literally met him because he was trying to steal the bat mobiles tires with the intent of reverse engineering them to sell to the people of gotham because bullet proof tires in that kinda city would save lives source

As for being brash. Yeah. he is. he lacks people skills because HE GREW UP ON THE STREETS. yet he still knows how to sympathize with people and not be an ass ALL the time. he’s cocky sure but it’s a defensive mechanism after years of being treated like he doesn’t have value/having to prove himself. and damien is worse lets bsffr.

He’s impulsive. (likely adhd) Teenager. next question.

He’s the angriest robin! he only ever wants vengeance! WRONG. dick is angrier! he was so petty he left gotham and got a new identity just as a fuck you to bruce. any anger Jason has is not unmatched or outdone by other robins and he is rightfully angry he’s been dealt a crappy hand in life. he’s jealous of dick because bruce was ALWAYS comparing him and telling heroic stories of dicks feats. it’s hard not to push yourself to be as good as or better than the og and not to crack under said pressure.

He’s dumb! NOPE. he is as smart if not smarter than tim. He is BRILLIANT when he wants to be. (see above: resourceful) if you take titans (cw) as canon (why wouldn’t u its as canon as any other tv show??) he is a GENIUS. he taught himself chemistry so he could invent and mass produce drugs. he had a genius strategy to fuck with the titans; the puzzle of clues for which dick needed scarecrow, kory, gar, and conner to solve. Not to mention him finding doctor light earlier in the season. He leads the outlaws bc he is a natural leader and good at handling the details!!

He’s a villain! OKAY AND? SO WAS HARLEY BUT WE LUV HER !! DAMIEN WAS A TRAINED ASSASAIN! he puts so much effort into helping people (see above: resourceful) HE RISKED/LOST HIS LIFE FOR IT. HE IS FIERCELY LOYAL. even as red hood he obtains a strict moral code; no drugs to kids or by schools, don’t kill innocent uninvolved people(depends on which media you’re looking at). serve karma on a gold platter. unlawful but USUALLY NOT unethical. he also becomes a vigilante (and the JL for a bit) and does so much good! none of them are perfect ALL of the time. and considering the other DC villains, he’s not that evil.

strength?? no problem! he almost beat dick and bruce several times in the comics!! source

not to mention his proficiency for new things (see above: chemistry) his whole time as robin he uses bat tech. but redhood uses guns and knives. he just picked that up and was a skilled marksman immediately. (also truama response after nearly dying to death stroke)

so what hes kinda fucked in the head. aren’t they all? isn’t that… the point? it’s justified after everything he’s been through AND it makes hims a better character, more 3D more realistic and relatable.

also for the sake of this thesis partially disregard the wonderful work of art that is WFA it’s a fixit. for a reason. because the it was broken and needed fixing.

TLDR; you don’t have to like Jason Todd, or think he’s the best Robin, but you have to admit, he is a complex, layered, well written character. And stop mischaracterizing him and dumbing him down to this impulsive, angry, weak kid.

bonus: my Jason playlist

[coffeegnomee]

ugh sometimes watching Kab pov I get real sympathetic for how difficult it must be to be in her brain and just be so confused all the time and exhausted about masking her feelings to make other people trust her and her pain in wanting to be vulnerable and receive vulnerability and feel deep reciprocal love.

But then she says shit, really fucking mean and toxic shit towards mental health and healing and it triggers my own fight or flight and i become a ball of rage.

And like, I do get it. When you start your journey of mental health healing you often become the toxic one as you throw the shit people have said to you at everyone who also has similar mental health issues as you. (been there done that) Doing it to process your own rage at being told these things, or thinking, out of desperation, that if you can just get them to fix themselves quickly, you can fix yourself quickly. The bullied becomes the bully.

But then time passes and you realize this shit is hard to overcome. (or maybe it won't ever be overcome! and that's okay!) And you stop being toxic and you start being compassionate, to yourself and others. And eventually you start to heal and become confident in your own self worth and the validity of your emotions.

But before then it's the fucking worst place to watch someone be in. And that place is unfortunately where we are right now.

below is a short transcript of the convo this reflection is based off of. it can be triggering so like, don't feel obliged to read it.

11/10/24 kab vod: "I have no idea what's happening"

1:42:00 KAB: “what about how he makes me feel? Why is it so important what he feels and to accommodate everything he’s feeling? Why do i have to conceded to that???”

1:44:00 “I’m sick of having to accommodate to everyone else’s actions” 

realizing your masking is hurting you is one of the worst realizations (imo). bc the mask keeps you safe, but if you can't process or give worth to your real emotions, it's not serving you.

so she swaps from processing her own feeling to being angry at zam.

1:47:00 She gets he needs time and space, but “We don't have time for to try and sit and process your emotions properly. Do it after we deal with this fucking issue [...] sometimes you just need to toughen up” 

Fucking hell the trigger i just felt for just toughen up. 

1:48:00 “i need to know what he’s thinking so that we can work together. In a team!” 

what team!?!

“‘Does zam really hate communication more than he likes spawn and the server’ literally. Like pick your priorities dude.”

I’m going to fucking throw up. Because yes. Actually yes. Unfortunately and actually yes. He's gotten a lot better but like.

1:53:00 “I dunno. I wish he would care about himself as much as i care about him. Hard to see him like this [pause] maybe he does need more nurturing than i can give him bro ugh. I am just not- i am not good at that shit. I think it’s stupid [..] when you have a job to do [..] just shove your emotions away for a bit. And then you can process them later” 

I was going to say this is just eclipse, but I just realized that maybe it's just this is exactly the perception Zam had of Vi: that Vi just wanted him to move on when he couldn't. All his deepest fears of what Vi wanted from him are being personified into a new person. 

(also he is shoving his emotions away and that's why he's not processing it and giving you an answer for why he "doesn't know"????? but since he's not a perfect ball of joy and masking to you and because he is doing what you can't (shove emotions away) you are in rage)

1:54:00  “But it’s like, while there’s a life or death situation that literally determines the entire server we don't have time to be like, holding your hand, you know? Like, you're an adult” ughh fuck. being broken is inconvenient for others and age is seen as an invalidation to any of your real brokenness. If you're old you no longer have the right to be broken. Can we please change this narrative? thx

“If he cared enough he would actively try and do something to help himself in this situation” 

Interesting choice of words to say "he would try to help himself if he cared" complaining about others not "working" on themselves (and you can never know if someone is working on themselves bc you're not in their brain) helps nobody bc you can only control yourself.

“You just want to sit and feel bad about yourself” no that's what you're doing kab

“He got me to fucking open up to him and pour my heart out and is now turning his back on that entirely. That’s what i’m actually more upset about” 

oh the naive belief that because you pour your heart out to someone they must reciprocate. That is the risk you take when you are honest with someone about your feelings. They are at no obligation to reciprocate ever. Never ever. But that doesn't mean your feelings aren't true and it doesn't mean you shouldn't have done it. Love is a risk.

But also she feels she was forced into it. Forced to be vulnerable and she hates the vulnerability. She doesn't remember (or believe) that Zam promised to not use it against her. She isn't willing to give him the chance to not use it against her. He simply knows and that is a threat.

So love turns into spite. Instantly. And she doesn't want to talk to him anymore. And decides that she will just be fake to him.

oh girl. keeping the mask on doesn't help anything. 

“I’ve lost a lot of respect for him today. I’m done trying to impress him”

and so the mask returns. and healing stops.

[alfredojesta]

OC post but it's for jason the toymaker rewrite (THIS IS NOT AN OC X CANON POST I WILL BREAK DOWN SOBBING IF ANYONE THINKS ITS OC X CANON THANK YOU) (TS IS UNHEALTHY AS FUCK!!!!!!!) i wanna provide some info because i've been chipping away at this rework for a bit now and i've got. the basics if you will.

Margarethe is basically my version of Maggie (from Jason's OG story if you've read it you know) and Lizbeth is her sister (she acts as the replacement for Daisy. again if you've read the story you know LOL). they're VERY different in the rewrite. the only part i kept the same was Maggie's amnesia and dead parents

Marge is a 30 smth y/o woman with amnesia and she starts dating Jason who then proceeds to gaslight her for 3 years straight in an unhealthy relationship that ends with Marge getting turned to yet another doll. she works at a daycare before Jason tells her to quit because. erm. her job isn't that important anyway. Jason only dated her because she reminded him a lot of Amelia (and my version of Jason is always looking for a new Amelia to fill his void). Jason used her amnesia to his advantage, constantly demeaning her for her shitty memory and then reassuring her that her health problems don't make her any less deserving of good things

Lizbeth is Marge's fun-going half-sister who's a year younger. she's married to a wealthy guy and therefore uses his money for anything and everything. she met Jason first! she was like "WOAH YOUR TOY SHOP IS BEAUTIFUL MY SISTER WOULD LOVE IT HERE I'VE GOT TO BRING HER" BUT. the time between when she met Jason and when she introduced him to Marge was like... 7 years. because Marge was in a coma from when she was 15 to when she was 20. then for 7 years, Lizbeth forgot Jason existed until she was strolling London with Marge. only then did Lizbeth go "HOLY CRUD!!! I WONDER IF THAT TOY SHOP IS STILL OPEN!!!" and dragged Marge to the toy shop

anyway Jason doesn't like Lizbeth. funnily enough he always thought her name was Elizabeth which goes to show how little he cared about her LMFAO the last thing he ever said to her, when Lizbeth came to his flat sobbing about Marge being missing, was "I never liked you, Elizabeth." (then he shut the door on her and she stood frozen for a good minute.)

Marge loves Jason like she thought it was so cool he started his own business but it slowly dives into concern. As it always does. she gets confused abt his motives. she has so many memory gaps and Jason is alw telling her what happened (she can really only trust his word) she's left alone a lot but Jason also isolates her from others. she works until Jason tells her its better if she takes time off bc of her health. Marge cant say the same for Jason even tho hes constantly working. she in fact wanted to make connections with other people, and that is when they started to argue frequently. Jason became frustrated because why the hell is he putting so much effort into this woman (and then he decided, after a bit, he needed to fix her so he turns her into a doll.)

(There is no world where Jason can have a healthy relationship with a woman as long as Amelia is apart of his life. Jason sees all the women in his life as projects to work on and perfect. That's why he wants to keep them and gets angry when they try to leave. At that point, they've broken themselves again. And the only way to then perfect them is by turning them into a doll.)

this is also where mr. bunny comes into play because Marge wanted to purchase him and that's how she interacted with Jason for the first time. the fact Marge was a daycare assistant meant she was able to get free toys from Jason LOL it's sweet in theory but Jason thought acts of services were just ways to keep Marge at bay ^_^ so she wont consider leaving. god bless his stupid fucking brain and its dumbass way of thinking

n e way their relationship was toxic as fuck but was Jason's longest relationship . he only saw her as a replacement for Amelia though so it's safe to say he never truly loved her.