#husband wants me to go back to school for writing but idk maybe i can skip that step. but i am considering it

[altfire]

have been informed by my husband that his Many Programmer Friends want to make games but dont have stories/art so i might start. learning to write for games.

[queenpiranhadon]

HII you commented on my post :’) 🎀

can I request pro hero bakugou x pro hero reader where reader usually pick up their kid(s) from daycare alone since BK is busy and usually gets home late:( and that kinda made their kid(s) upset and ignore their dad at home and cry really loud in front of reader secretly. So like reader came up with an idea to surprise the kid(s) and told BK to change his schedule or else reader will whoop his ass. So like the next day BK and reader went to daycare together and instead of reader standing behind the glass door it’s BK and that made their kid(s) go crazy and jumpy 🥺 thank you 💗

Idk I was watching this reel and got a lil inspired ~ https://www.instagram.com/jaxon.trevor/reel/CsTuZLUofpg/?igsh=MTNuZHY3ZDEwMnNoZA==

A/N: HIII SORRY THIS TOOK ME A WHILE AHAHAH BUT I LOVED WRITING THIS IT WAS SO CUTEEE Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Mild cursing, f!reader, your kids love you, pre-established relationship (you two are married), you have twins, Katsuki loves you, just fluffy fluff with like the mildest angst if you squint really hard.

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴀʏᴄᴀʀᴇ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's late. You were in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner, as your husband finally relaxes in your shared bedroom after a long patrol. It was always like this, Katsuki getting home late, and you were left to take care of your two children in the meantime.

You didn't blame him, of course, you knew how hard he worked, given that he was the number 2 pro hero and with that came a lot of responsibilities. You yourself were number 5, which meant you also had a lot of missions, but thankfully since you ran your own agency, you could manage your schedules easier to be able to pick up your kids from daycare every day.

However, your twins, Kasumi and Akio, weren't as understanding as you were when it came to your husband's attendance at home.

You understood their pain, but tried to keep an open mind for the sake of your family. However, after a two month long mission that Katsuki was sent on, he had consequently missed your birthday, something that might've upset you slightly, but you didn't think it was a big deal.

The twins, however did. They were furious at this point, sobbing as they clung onto your shirt, snot and tears soaking the fabric, but you didn't mind, rubbing their backs comfortingly. You thought it was sweet, how much they cared, but they little voice in the back of your head agreed with them, if only a little. Katsuki was never at home anymore, and to be honest, you missed him.

When he came back, you welcomed him with open arms, but the twins had just peaked their heads out of their rooms before retreating back, as if this was a normal occurrence.

You sigh, and look back at Katsuki, who had a heartbroken expression on his face.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your shared bedroom, squeezing his hand softly and getting ready for bed.

Katsuki gets changed but only sits on the bed, and you lie down next to him.

"What's on your mind, love?"

He grunts and looks away, conflicted before looking back at you.

"Do...do the twins hate me?" he mutters, and you frown softly.

"No...they don't hate you Kats, they just...wish you were around more."

Your husband frowns, and you can see the guilt swimming in the depths of his vermillion eyes.

"Maybe you can pick them up from daycare tomorrow?" You suggest, as Katsuki still hasn't said a word.

Katsuki frowns. "But my schedule-"

"Katsuki Bakugou if you do not pick up your children from school tomorrow then I'm sleeping on the couch for a month." You retort back before he can finish.

Your husband's eyes widen, realizing that you've got him stuck. If it really came down to it, he would gladly sleep on the couch if you wanted him to - but you knew he loved you too much to subject you to the same fate.

"Damn it, fine. Don't you dare threaten me like that again, woman." he grumbles and you smile up at him victoriously.

"Awww you love me." you coo, and you kiss his arm softly before tugging him gently to join you under the covers.

Katsuki watches you drift away to sleep, cheek half smushed against his bare chest and he can't help the dorky smile that stretched across his face.

He loved you so, so much. More than you would ever know.

Encircling his strong arms around you, he hold you close, making a mental note to take you out for a nice date tomorrow as well, before drifting off to sleep as well.

When he wakes, you're gone, with a note on the fridge that says that you left to drop the kids off and that you'd be back after work. He chuckles, and decides to clean up the house in the meantime.

He can't remember the last time he had a day off, it felt weird, to be honest. He felt restless, and so he did everything and anything to keep himself occupied while taking a majority of the burden you had off your shoulders.

Once the house was clean, he rifled through your closet, picking out the sundress he loved - accentuating your curves while the color brought out everything he loved about you, which was well, everything.

When you return home, Katsuki's getting changed into some nice clothes, surprising you as he tells you to go shower and get ready while he picks up the kids.

You're most definitely surprised, wondering where all of this is coming from, but you can't say you're upset about him, giggling softly and deciding to play along, feeling your heart warm as you hear the car door shut.

Katsuki parks the car in the parking lot, and approaches the building, giddy but slightly nervous at the same time. What if the kids still hated him? Would he be able to make things better?

However all his worried disappeared the moment he saw his kids' overjoyed faces at seeing him.

Their eyes brighten and they scream excitedly, bolting towards him with speed that was almost inhuman, tackling him and almost knocking him down.

"DADDY!!!!!" Kasumi squealing, leaping up and attaching herself to his leg.

Akio looks up at him, agape. "You-you're actually here?!"

Katsuki chuckles and ruffles his son's hair lovingly."Yeah, I am, bud. M'sorry I couldn't pick ya up sooner...Ya know how hero work is."

The kids nod, hugging him tightly as his hefts them up to sit on either of his hips.

"C'mon you two. We're gonna go surprise yer mama when he get home, got it? We'll take out her somewhere nice."

The twins look at each other micheviously and nod vigorously. "Daddy's in looooove" they sing, giggling uncontrollably.

Katsuki chuckles and can't help but feel his heart flutter at the thought of you.

"Yeah, Daddy's in love all right."

[snailmail444]

Can I get a headcanon of the bachelors and how they'd be sexy with you when you're down? Like, if they're trying to cheer you up and be a little goofy with it but also tryna HIT. THAT. 🤣🤣🤣

Thanks Snail, ILU.

Bachelors Goofing Their way Into Your Pants

18+ 🌱 MDNI 🌱 NSFW (-ish)

This one was a tough ask Libby but I’ll do nothing if not stand and deliver 🫡 Honestly might be my favorite head cannon list for the bachelors I’ve ever done so THANK YOU for this prompt icon. NSFW? -ish under the cut (lewd?? Idk lol)

Harvey-

💚 Perhaps the goofiest about this

💚 He would not try to come onto you when you’re down unless he KNOWS it’s going to pick you up

💚 So once he’s confident let’s start there

💚 It’s a song and dance

💚 Dissappears, and when he’s back he’s got his med kit

💚 He gets out the stethoscope and all. The whole nine yards.

💚 That’s right folks. We’re paging Dr. Love

💚 Will NOT let you stop this routine. Dr. Love WILL be completing the full assessment. Listening to your heart rate, checking your throat and ears, somehow always having to complete a chest exam

💚 (M or F he will be groping your tits for this one)

💚 The diagnosis is in

💚 There’s Only One Cure for What Ails You

💚 You guessed it! You need a little lovin’ (Dr. Love’s catchphrase)

💚 Important note: Dr. Love is not a licensed medical practitioner

💚 This works a little too well perhaps. He’s so confident for no reason at all LMAO

💚 Lowkey want to write a Dr. Love oneshot now because this is really fun and cute

Elliott-

❤️ If you’re feeling down man will preform the absolute worst ad lib poetry

❤️ Silliest lymrics you’ve ever heard

❤️ Dumb dumb dummmmmb

❤️ Very dirty and stupid bad poems about you

❤️ Specifically about his favorite parts of your body

❤️ Or his favorite things you do during sex

❤️ The worse it is, the better as far as he is concerned

❤️ Raunchy dirty filthy

❤️ But like. In the most grade school mother goose style he can manage

❤️ No flowery language here

❤️ Takes off your clothes to expose the parts of you the he’s referring to

❤️ When you do x thing (then tries to make you do x thing)

❤️ Will be proving his point. Period!!!

Alex-

🤎 Physical touch legend

🤎 Wrestles

🤎 Winner gets whatever they want from the loser

🤎 Has a wrestling name and all

🤎 Does the John Cena theme

🤎 His hands end up in all sorts of places that they don’t need to be

🤎 Most wrestlers aren’t grabbing ass 🤨

🤎 Gets you in some really tight, close pins, but somehow you end up winning anyway

🤎 No I didn’t let you win don’t be ridiculous I respect the sport too much to ever—

🤎 He let you win

🤎 You can take your prize now 😌 Whatever you want 😌

🤎 And if his hard on is pressing against you? Well. Maybe he has some ideas about what your prize should be

Shane-

💙 Gets you through the hard stuff first, so once you’re on the mend he’s goofing to the max

💙 KING FLEXER!

💙 Aw babe come on? How can you be so sad when you have these guns to look at?

💙 Runs through a series of absurd poses to show off his muscly farm boy arms

💙 Lays it on really thick about being a stud

💙 “No matter what at the end of the day you have a trophy husband” (even if he’s not married to you. ESPECIALLY if he’s not married to you)

💙 STRIP! TEASE!!

💙 Showing off everything you’re so lucky to have with a big goofy grin on his face

💙 Throwing his clothes across the room and everything

💙 Making the music sounds with his mouth

💙 You HAVE to whistle or hoot at him or clap or something

💙 He demands applause from his audience if he’s not getting some singles at least

Sam-

🩷 Another song and dancer

🩷 This man was born for the stage I fear

🩷 Genuinely and truly putting on a SHOW about it all

🩷 The drama of it. Uh oh, he’s compromised!

🩷 Will end up ‘stuck’ under the couch or table or anywhere else

🩷 Uh oh! I hope nobody takes advantage of me 👀 When I’m so exposed 👀👀 and vulnerable 👀👀👀

🩷 The worst stage acting you’ve ever seen in your life

🩷 Starts stripping in the middle of the living room because he “didn’t see you there!”

🩷 Pretends to be scandalized when you finally succumb to his advances

🩷 What are you doing?! Huh? What do you MEAN I was coming on to you? I always take off all my clothes in the kitchen, that’s ritual

🩷 insists he’s been objectified and taken advantage of

🩷 That kind of turns him on though let’s be so fucking real

Sebastian-

🖤 Okay so we’re going blunt king here

🖤 Two possible options

🖤 Uses it as a way to hard reset the system mid breakdown

🖤 Full crying, upset, whatever, he’s been holding you and trying to calm you down but it’s not working

🖤 “Wanna have sex?”

🖤 DEADPANNNNNN delivery

🖤 It never fails. Tried and true

🖤 Option two?

🖤 This is ONLY if mans is super comfortable in your dynamic

🖤 A classic

🖤 Whips it out

🖤 Thinking about that one tweet of the boyfriend who was in the mood and just put his dick on her shoulder while she was watching tv

🖤 Like that but buried under sixteen levels of irony

🖤 “I know what’ll help” and then he pulls his dick out

🖤 Probably the least likely to actually hit with these methods

🖤 However, he’s maybe the most likely to help improve your mood substantially

🖤 Through sheer presentation if nothing else. Man can deliver, and knows when to hit with the absurd to make it the most impactful

[slaybestieslay946]

Your last uncle!percy fic was EVERYTHING and I was wondering if you could write another one in the same universe where reader and Luke go out on a date so Percy and annabeth babysit? And maybe more interaction with Percy and reader? Feel free to make it your own juts thanks so so much for your contribution to the Luke lovers with that last one you posted haha

Date Night

MASTERLIST

word count: 1000

pairing: luke castellan x posiedon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: icl Luke is kinda a minor character in this one, and i chose to just have Percy in it coz i felt like it made more sense?? idk hope you enjoyed love u anon

“Ok, so, dinner’s in the fridge, as well as formula for Violet. James normally goes to bed at 8, but I told him he can stay up later if he wants.” 

You explained, as you flitted around the kitchen with a list in one hand and a clutch in the other. Your brother followed after you with an attentive expression on his face. 

Tonight was you and Luke’s first date night since Violet was born, and you had been looking forward to it for weeks. You’d spent the last two hours getting ready, and now it was just a matter of making sure everything was prepared for your favourite babysitter, Percy. 

You stood at the door, peering down at the list while you husband sat on the stairs, tying his shoelaces. 

“Honey, did I forget anything?”

“Hm, did you tell him about the thermostat?”

“Oh, shit yeah.” You turned to Percy, “The thermostat is broken, so if you need to turn on the radiators or anything you’ll have to do it by hand, but I mean, it’s summer so you shouldn’t need to.” 

“Ok cool. Sounds good.” 

“Alright. I think that’s everything. You have a good night, and call if you need anything or have any questions-!”

You were about to go on another spiel about caring for your youngest daughter's specific needs when your husband swept an arm around your waist and practically dragged you out of the apartment. 

“Thanks man, see you at 11!” Luke shouted, giving Percy a quick thumbs up before shutting the door behind you both. 

“Why’d you push me out!” You asked as you both began making your way down the stairs.

“Coz you need to trust your little brother and relax. He’s a good guy.” 

“I know that.” You pouted, “But I also know that he can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes, the boy needs detailed instructions.”

“That’s exactly my point babe. He’s not a boy anymore.”

“God don’t remind me. It makes me feel old.” 

“Sorry. You're not old. Now, stop stressing about Percy and enjoy the date night you incredible husband has so kindly planned out.”

You giggled lightly, rolling your eyes, but agreeing nonetheless.

*

The date went perfectly, and you were back by 10. When you walked inside the house, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was still standing, and your son hadn’t managed to cause a mess while you were gone like he usually did. 

Luke went up to check on Violet, meanwhile you made your way into the living room, where you could still hear the low hum of the TV in the background. 

In the room, you could see your brother, and your son curled up on the sofa, both of them fast asleep, and snoring slightly. On the TV Cars were playing (James’ favourite), and on the table there were a few mostly empty bowls of snacks. 

You laughed quietly, remembering the movie nights you and Percy had had all those years ago. 

After you left Camp half blood to go to college, he’d come over to your house a few times during the school year, in which you’d have movie marathons, pillow fights, and intense mario kart competitions. 

It’d always end the same, with the both of you passing out on the couch at 2 in the morning, cheeto dust covering your fingers and popcorn kernels all over the floor. 

They were some of your favourite times with your half-brother, when you could forget the worry of getting killed by monsters or the like, and have fun with your only sibling. 

“Hey, Perce.” You whispered, shaking him slightly. It didn’t take much to wake him, and soon his eyes were fluttering open. 

“Oh, Y/N. You’re back already?” 

“Yeah, it’s 11:30.”

“Really?!” He asked, loudly, and you quickly shushed him, pointing to the sleeping child beside him. 

Percy slapped his hand over his mouth, mumbling apologies. You rolled your eyes at him, helping the man off the sofa and leading him out of the living room and towards the spare bedroom (aka Luke’s office).

“You can stay here tonight if you want? It’s pretty late.” 

Your statement was confirmed by a loud yawn from Percy, to which he begrudgingly nodded. 

You directed him to sit in the nearby armchair whilst you grabbed the sheets from the cupboard and began to make up the bed for him. 

“How was James?” 

“We had a great time. He’s a good kid y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“It reminds me of our old movie nights.” He said, his voice slightly wistful. He had always been so sentimental, just like you. 

“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” 

“Do you remember that time we got snowed in?” He asked, laughing lightly at the memory. 

“Of course! And the snow was so high the pizza delivery man had to climb in through the window!”

You both erupted into fits of giggles and you had to pause in your bed-making to finish laughing. 

“I really appreciate everything you did for me, Y/N.” He declared suddenly, staring off into space. 

“I didn’t do that much Perce. You give me too much credit.” 

“No, I really mean it. You did your best to give me a normal childhood, and looked after me like I was your real brother.” 

You frowned, “You are my real brother. Just like James is your real nephew. And I helped you because you were a good kid who deserved it. You earned the life you have now. We all did.” 

He broke into a bright grin at that, standing up from the armchair to give you a big hug. You could still remember when he was so much smaller than you, just a kid. Now he was an adult, and taller than you (although that mop of curly hair gave him some extra height). Still, despite how tall he got, you were certain he’d always be your little brother.

“Thanks Y/N.”

“No problem kid.”

[luvfy0dor]

Henlo! I saw that requests for Fyodor are open! And I was wondering if you could write something about Fyodor as a parent if you’re comfortable with that. For some reason I can’t find enough of those and I really wanna see how you’d do it!

(Not as the reader’s parent btw, maybe having a child/children with the reader. But I just wanna see how you think he’d behave in that situation and how you think it would all go down)

"Come on, papa!" Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ｡˚♡₊

╰┈➤ Dad!Fyodor ༉‧₊˚✧

Description ; How Fyodor acts towards his child/children!

Warnings ; None

A/N; IVE BEEN LOWKEY WAITING FOR THIS REQUEST BRO IM SO EXCITED OVER THIS YOU DONT EVEN GET IT ALSO P/T STANDS FOR PARENTAL TITLE BC IDK WHAT YALL WANNA BE CALLED YKYK AND D/N IS DAUGHTERS NAME OBVI

Headcannons !! ༊*·˚

→ Dad!Fyodor who lets his kid/s play with his hair, too, messing it up and laughing at their fathers disheveled appearance.

→ Dad!Fyodor who quietly reads your kids bed time stories, letting them sit on his lap while he holds the book in front of them, pointing to the pictures with a smile.

→ Dad!Fyodor who picks out the most whack ass outfits for your kid, proudly displaying it out to you and frowning at your hesitant smile.

→ Dad!Fyodor who discouraged your children from cutting their hair and braids it or puts it up for them every morning before school.

→ Dad!Fyodor who (very frequently) helps your kid/s with their homework or projects for school, not quite giving them answers but shoving nudging them in the right direction.

→ Dad!Fyodor who teaches his kid(s) the basics of playing the cello, letting them get a feel for the strings. He would teach them how to hold the bow and would let them stand beside him and watch him play.

→ Dad!Fyodor who cooks recipes that he learned in Russia for you and your children, encouraging all of you to try foreign dishes. They give him a feeling of nostalgia and wanting to pass those special foods on to his kid(s).

→ Dad!Fyodor who absolutely tries passing on happy group counseling hour to his kid/s when they seem sad or upset.

Scenarios !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your keys jingled in the keyhole of your front door as you pushed it open, revealing the living room that you had longed to sit down in all day. Work sucked, you weren't going to lie, but there was something that was allegedly important going on, so you had no choice but to attend.

Your husband volunteered to watch your daughter on her day off of school, which wasn't a totally uncommon occurrence due to Fyodors line of work. He didn't mind watching d/n, he likes it a lot, actually. Fyodor values the quality time he can spend with his kid just as much as the quality time he gets to spend with you.

The pitter patter of your daughters feet got louder the closer she got to the living room, rounding the corner and smiling. "P/t!"

"Hey, what'd I tell you about running?" You say with a quiet and amused giggle as she throws herself onto you, hugging your waist. You run your fingers over the pretty braids weaved into her hair with a smile. "Papa did your hair?" The little girl nods excitedly.

"Well, you look very, very pretty." Another set of footsteps can be heard, this time softer. Fyodor rounds the corner with a smile, pulling you into a hug.

"Mm, my dear." He says, resting his head on you shoulder for a moment before pulling away, starting back towards the kitchen. He waves at d/n to follow him. "Come on, sweetheart, come help me finish dinner." She excitedly runs after her father, earning a soft and faint giggle from him.

Upon following the two of them into the kitchen, you can smell the beef stroganoff cooking, watching your daughter step up onto the little stool she dragged in next to Fyodor. They stand at the counter, Fyodor making sure she's nowhere near anything dangerous or hot. He gently pushes over a measuring cup filled with beef broth.

"Alright, Malyshka. Just pour this into the pan, and be very careful, alright?" He says softly, his voice gentle as he measures out the whipping cream. The beef broth can be heard being poured into the pan from the spot you're standing in, smiling at your husband and daughter making dinner together. Within a couple of seconds, Fyodor is handing d/n measurements of other ingredients, such as Worcestershire sauce and dijon mustard. He lets her stir it all in, guiding her whenever he sees fit.

"Alright, we're all done. Here, why don't you go sit down, I'll bring you and P/t your dinners, yeah?" He smiles at the young girl, rubbing her back before patting it. She nods and skitters off to join you at the dinner table. She blabbers on to you about everything she did that day, even running off to bring proof of her activities.

She comes back out, proudly showing off a coloring page filled with scribbles in numerous different hues. One of them was only slightly better than the other, the lesser messy one was labeled with Fyodor's name in his sloppy handwriting to match the coloring. You grinned at both of them, taking the thin sheets of paper and studying them intently.

"Wow, they're both wonderful!" Your daughter wears a proud smile at the praise from you, excitedly placing her hands on her hips. "Are ya gonna hang them up on the fridge?" You nod and ruffle her hair a bit, just in time for Fyodor to bring the food in for all three of you. He sets the plates down on the table, listening to the conversation still taking place between you and your daughter.

"Ofcourse I will, I love them both very much." Your daughter smiles, blowing on the small piece of meat impaled by her fork. "Maybe me and papa can have a coloring contest, you can be the judge!" She says to you excitedly. Fyodor smiles. "How about another night, Malyshka? It's getting close to your bedtime." He says, continuing eating his food. "Aw, but papa-" she sadly whines, Fyodor shaking his head. "No 'but''s, d/n. We can tomorrow night though, I promise." Fyodor smiles at her while she extends her outstretched pinky to her dad.

"Pinky promise?" She quietly mumbles. He grins and interlocks his pinky with hers, reaching across the table to do so. "I promise. You know i never break my promises, Malyshka." She smiles and nods in agreement. "Yeah, right. Tomorrow night then!" She says with a grin.

"Tomorrow night. Alright, d/n, time to go get ready for bed. Go put on pajamas and we'll come say goodnight in five minutes." You say to the small girl with a smile. She nods in compliance and quickly walks back to her room to change into sleep clothing. You look over at Fyodor, who is already looking back at you with a loving gaze.

"Ah, I forgot to apologize for the late dinner earlier, dear. I was quite busy being dressed up in tiaras and what not." Your heart warms at the thought of your husband bonding with your daughter. "It's alright, don't worry about it." You gently caress his shoulders before taking all the plates away from the dining table, washing them in the kitchen and sticking them in the dishwasher. Placing your hands on your hips, you nod in approval of your quick work. Fyodor waits for you in the doorway, nodding in the direction of d/n's room with a gentle smile.

You both approach the room, knocking to make sure she was finished getting ready for bed before you both entered. You said goodnight to her and kissed her cheek while Fyodor said goodnight and kissed her forehead. Before Fyodor could stand straight up again, d/n giggled and whispered to him.

"I'm gonna beat you tomorrow, so prepare yourself, papa. It's gonna be the best coloring you've ever seen!" She proudly claims, clearly confident in her coloring skills. Fyodor chuckles. "I believe it whole heartedly. Get some sleep, or you may wake up without that skill." He says, making sure she's 100% tucked in. She nods in understanding and snuggles into her blanket.

"Goodnight, Malyshka." Fyodor whispers, gently pulling her door closed a bit, leaving a crack between the door and the frame.

A/N (#2); I'm super sorry if any mistakes were made, I didn't proofread because I'm suuuuper tired lol, but I just wanna put it out there that I am absolutely willing to do more dad!Fyodor. Dad!Fyodor and soft!Fyodor literally give me life u don't even get it (recipe I referenced was from Natasha Kitchen)

[phyrestartr]

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up? 

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do." 

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–" 

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago. 

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it  12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st  9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone  12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it  12:32am i need you  1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while  7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–" 

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up." 

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared. 

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?" 

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first." 

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity. 

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone. 

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."  

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head. 

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly. 

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised." 

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything? 

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus. 

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect. 

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh. 

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today." 

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?" 

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker." 

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!" 

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo." 

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son. 

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice. 

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York. 

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well. 

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood. 

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display. 

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know." 

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy." 

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over. 

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.” 

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.” 

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.” 

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.” 

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.” 

“Eh. I would.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him. 

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way. 

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art. 

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though. 

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him. 

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.” 

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face. 

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either. 

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks. 

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.” 

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place. 

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained. 

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–” 

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed. 

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah. 

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself. 

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right. 

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.” 

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.” 

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.” 

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open. 

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch. 

One minute passed. 

Then two minutes. 

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?” 

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness. 

Click. 

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards  their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity. 

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.” 

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her. 

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out. 

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–” 

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears. 

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?” 

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore." 

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone." 

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband. 

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise." 

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug. 

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet. 

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?" 

"Eh. Sometimes." 

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?" 

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?" 

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be. 

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now. 

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–" 

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?" 

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?" 

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered. 

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one." 

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?" 

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did." 

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered." 

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep. 

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow." 

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot." 

"No truck?" 

"None." 

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck." 

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked. 

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark. 

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–" 

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth. 

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out. 

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture. 

But you came home early. 

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason. 

 Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you? 

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you. 

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly. 

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded. 

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered. 

Something. Anything. 

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together. 

"How long?" You managed. 

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?" 

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?" 

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep." 

"Wait–" 

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped. 

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared. 

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–" 

"Miguel–" 

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me." 

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms. 

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight,  and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding. 

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” 

And he believed you. 

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning. 

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi. 

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store. 

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms. 

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?" 

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too. 

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong. 

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?" 

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess." 

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara." 

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after. 

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh. 

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never." 

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him. 

“Then come back with us.” 

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.” 

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know. 

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him. 

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–" 

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise. 

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle. 

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart. 

"I never did," he confessed. 

"Then why did you say it?" 

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it." 

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'" 

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly. 

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again." 

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–" 

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years. 

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up. 

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?” 

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel. 

“Oh,” she whispered. 

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do." 

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep. 

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.” 

"Miggs, don't say that. I–" 

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own. 

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–" 

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo." 

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him. 

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us." 

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too. 

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease. 

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too. 

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep. 

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area. 

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted. 

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh. 

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room." 

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home. 

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here." 

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash." 

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun." 

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?" 

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower." 

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy. 

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing." 

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories. 

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone. 

But then, he spied a locked folder. 

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed. 

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities. 

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away. 

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again. 

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.  

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better. 

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–" 

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me." 

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him. 

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places. 

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background. 

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back. 

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo." 

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.  

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect." 

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good." 

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me." 

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back." 

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?" 

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this–fuck. He was in trouble. 

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little." 

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss. 

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself. 

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight. 

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?" 

"No." 

You chuckled. "Okay." 

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me." 

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.” 

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said. 

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--” 

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease. 

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

[struggling-author]

Imagine a spy x family au of clark Kent (Superman) as yor forger and Bruce Wayne as Loid

lmao that actually works surprisingly well!

I am tempted to make this for WonderBat but I will resist

So Bruce is still Batman in this universe, but the villain he is currently after is Ra‘s al Ghul, who never shows his face in public except for at the private school his grandson attends.

Since he is also still Bruce Wayne, getting in won‘t be a problem but well… he needs a kid for that, and unfortunately he is fresh out.

Luckily, on the day Ra‘s trail leads him to the school, he runs into reporter Clark Kent who is writing a piece on Eden College. As they talk, Clark mentions how his son Jon dreamt of getting into the school, but unfortunately he couldn’t afford it, so immediately a plan forms in Bruce‘s head. He and Clark will pretend to be married so he can use his Wayne money and influence to get Jon in. Clark of course refuses because he can’t ask that of someone he just met - though in that very moment his super senses pick up on something, Bruce has been followed (he’s not as careful in this Universe I guess, bear with me I need this for the story lol) and a sniper is about to shoot him. Clark reacts on instinct throwing himself at Bruce, pushing him out of the way, then takes his hand to run into an alleyway. Some shots hit Clark but he is unaffected and Bruce pretends not to notice. The sniper catches up to them from the roof above, so Clark knowing nothing else to do takes a pebble and throws it with just the right speed to knock him out without killing him (assume this is possible, Idk). His excuse is:

„I used to be pebble throwing champion at the eagle scouts, I have a badge to prove it“ (he actually does lol)

Bruce is not an idiot and doesn’t buy it, but he seizes the opportunity to say that now after Clark saved him he is in his debt, so he will help his son get into the school. Clark still tries to interject, but Bruce stops him by pulling a clip from his pocket (usually used for grappling lol) and grabbing his hands.

„I swear to you, for saving my life, I will do everything in my power to get your son into Eden College, and until my debt is paid, I will be your husband and this ring shall represent my promise.“ as he puts the clip on the finger of a very flustered Clark.

And so it happens that Clark and Jon move into Wayne Manor and Bruce gets Jon into Eden, where Jon meets Damian and they become immediate rivals.

Shenanigans ensue as Bruce tries to get Jon closer to Damian without being too obvious, while also trying to figure out wtf is up with his new husband and adopted son because they are clearly not human and very bad at hiding it. He gets struck by Loid Forger loveblindness though, so he never makes the connection to Superman (who he knows exists but has probably never met) and over time he starts caring less and less about it because he has always wanted a family and it feels so good after being alone all his life and he doesn’t wanna ruin it it’s just for the mission anyway and Clark is clearly too good a person to be a threat so it doesn’t matter. Or maybe he figures it out immediately and spends the rest of the story pretending to ignore the blatantly obvious ways in which Clark reveals himself and nodding at all his ridiculous excuses. (I might prefer this one tbh 😆)

There‘ll probably also be an arc where Bruce learns Damian is actually his biological son and has an emotional crisis.

Clark spends all his time badly hiding his identity, all the while never realizing his partner is actually Batman, despite him sneaking out every night and coming back with bruises (he knows that from his powers but he thinks it’s not his business what Bruce does in his private time, so he tries not to think about it)

So both still go on their superhero missions and if you want they can meet as heroes too and then you basically get Miraculous Ladybug lol

Maybe they also adopt Krypto for Jon.

Oh and I‘m imagining Lois died at some point when Jon was still very young, so him and Bruce really bond over that and Bruce remembers the reason for his mission, so that no child would ever have to lose their parents again (which gets complicated as he still fully plans to leave them once he has captured Ra‘s)

Franky is Alfred btw so Jon still gets a cool Uncle.

Maybe there is also a subplot where Clark spends his whole time fending off enemies trying to attack his completely normal civilian husband (how weird of them, right?) because the sniper managed to escape and leaked his identity. Luckily most his villains don’t believe such a ridiculous conspiracy theory (I mean spoiled billionaire Bruce Wayne as Batman? how laughable!) so only some local gangs come after him.

That’s all I got for now, feel free to add on lol and thanks for the ask.

[pinazee]

Murder?…Anyone? …Anyone?…Bueller?

First of all, solid title.

Secondly, im back (sort of). Lets get into it!

I LOVE this episode. I love the insight into who gus and shawn were as teenagers, i love how gus and shawn are both stuck in the past in different ways, and i love Abigail Lytar!

From the first moment we meet her, we know that she gets Shawn. She not only clocks his judd nelson pic, she also plays along with the joke and makes another obscure reference.

Abigail is the best love triangle addition in the history of television and i will die on that hill! They made her a genuine “competitor” to juliet by writing her as someone almost catered to shawns personality.

Normally with love triangles, they write the “competition” as less compelling of a choice to really emphasize how the mains are end goal OR they’ll make the decision split the center characters personalities, so like one choice will be the girl next door and represents the past version of them and the other is more career focused and represents the future (think sweet home alabama, uh, 13 going on 30, romcoms in general, you get it) And to a degree, thats sort of what this is with abigail and juliet, except it doesn���t split them in a way that is determined by shawn. Like, who shawn chooses doesn’t impact who he’ll be. The choice isnt a lesson or a determination of his character, if that makes sense. Plus, theres no caveat to Abigail. Like, she’d be perfect for him if it wasn’t for ___. None of that. Abigail and Shawn could have worked (ill go into it more in season 4 when they finally do get together).

Sidenote: i think her dynamic with both shawn and gus was really cute (which is another win in the abigail is a great love triangle addition column)

So apparently Shawns recall is so good he can do an instant replay. Idk if i should add that to his list of skills or just lump that into his existing memory power. I also love though, that its a blurry image because thats how Shawn saw it and they didn’t try to make him super human and see it in high definition.

Ravi shinkar is a heck of a reference to make and an even crazier one for lassie to have seen and shawn to understand haha

There was a joke made by Gus that Shawn didn’t know anything about their senior class or what happened senior year or the school, but I’d like to point out that his parents were on the brink of a divorce and then did divorce his senior year so im guessing he was pretty distracted. This is kind of random, but im wondering when Shawn decided he wasn’t going to be a cop like his dad. Like what was his tipping point. I always thought it was after his mom left because she said when she left she thought he would be okay, which to me meant that he had his path set. Now, because of how he didnt seem to care for school at all and was already off doing his own adventures (becoming part of the janitors society to get keys presumably for some reason) he was already aimless. Maddie was either delusional or Shawn lied to her? Idk im over thinking this silly cop show.

Now, the box of cop cars is not unexpected. We know who henry is. But this little bit actually tells us that Maddie never bought him other cars?? If I’m Maddie, and my husband is training my kid to become something i must have noticed he didn’t want to be because I’m a psychologist, I’m going to say something! Idk, maybe part of the reason they divorced was because of how henry was with Shawn, but then why would she leave him behind and think he was okay? So, i guess, i don’t understand why Maddie wouldn’t have pushed back. Why wouldn’t she buy shawn other toy cars for him to play with to provide choices for him. There is the possibility that shawn never told her that henrys training made him miserable because they were already fighting and didn’t want to give them another reason. Again, over thinking.

Some smaller notes:

-low blow for Gus to straight up tell Shawn no one had any expectations for him. Like i get he’s having a quarter life crisis or whatever, but, all the same, rude.

-that prom queen was Serinda Swan who was in a show called breakout kings with our own Mary Lightly aka Jimmi Simpson :)

-my favorite thing about carlton is that he’s a good head detective and yet has absolutely the worst instincts around. Like true south all the time.

P.S

“What does every great john hughes movie have? A love triangle!” Omg i just now saw what they did there and now i feel like an idiot lol

[barkspawn]

Can you rank bachelors, from best to worst as husbands? Lol

Ah fuck I've been thinking about this.

Y'all already know how part of this will go:

Sebastian is my first choice always. Idk. I have many reasons but idek if you wanted those so have a frog 🐸

Elliott. I've never actually married him in game but like I said, I've been thinking a lot about it. I would say next time but see above. (I'll keep loving him in fics)

Actual human puppy Sam. He's just.. What you need in a relationship. Friends above all else but will still try to impress you until you die.

Harvey. He's a sweetheart and awkward, so making him blush would be dope. Also let's not pretend he's not just a wee bit crazy in bed. Maybe my brain made some shit up, but he's shy outside and all of that stress has to go somewhere.

Shane. I know, I know. Why is he so low when you love him, Tori? Don't be silly. But that's the thing. You go through all of this for him to go right back to where he was. What happens to Jas? There's so much here and I adore writing Shane, but I hate that the hot bastard can't be fixed. (10/10 ten heart event tho. Esp if you got that one mod.)

Alex. Sigh. I want to like him so badly. Truly I do. But he's just... Meh. High school star that has tragic backstory and ends up with the pretty girl. (either way, every farmer is stunning). I feel bad about his mom and the letter hurts my soul, but dude your deep-set sexism gets me a bit. Also you never kiss him? Idk. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a kiss.

Das it. I honestly love writing them all but ask and you shall receive.

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

I'm gonna share it here because I don't have any other place to put it and if you dislike it's ok ignore this

But I have had this specific idea in my mind for days now where Damian is secretly trans, they just fear telling it to their family because they know everyone is just waiting for them to become batman or the demon, they're under a lot of pressure and then meet this boy (from school probably - both always meet in the art room when is nobody around, more calm to work)

They end talking a lot about art and stuff because they're in the same club, in one day Damian told this boy that they are always drawing their ideal girl but not "I would love to date her" but "I would love to be born as her, if I'm a girl I would love to be her" way

They keep meeting like that, sometimes they just talk about art, life or stay in silence. This boy ends up falling in love with Damian in both ways. Some stuff happens and Damian telling him about being Robin and their emotional struggling

This boy also has problems and the art room is a safeplace for them

At some point they kiss and decide to run away for their family together, start a new life with a new name in some God forsaken place

Years pass (maybe 3-4) and Danny (Damian's new name) is now a housewife in this farm, she always uses gloves when she goes in the small town to do stuff (bat paranoid still alive) and the boy is her boyfriend/husband, they're happy, they have animals then big bad stuff happens and Danny safe the day (everyone knows something is off with that couple but they accept it because they're nice) unfortunately there was a hero in that city and the hero saw what Danny did, then start investigating who is Danny

The hero then starts stalking the couple because they think her way to fight is too similar with the league of assassins and dislike it, Danny dislikes her stalker but doesn't kill them

Shit happens (again) in Gotham and Danny knows it, worrying about her family and with all the stalking things she decides to go back to Gotham, her boyfriend / husband doesn't like it (he hates it actually)

Honestly I have so many no happy ideas about this fic, this fic could end really bad but also some cute ideas like Danny and her partner save money for this new life and stuff, or they first kiss, the joy of wearing a dress in the street for the first time

Idk if I'll write this or just suffer with this idea, also Damian's new name could be: Danielle/Danny, Yesenia (Arab name) or other still doesn't know (I just want to talk about this with someone)

Oh yeah, Trans MTF Damian, like I kept almost writing with my "Damian the Mangaka" Fic! I've always moreso liked trans FTM Damian because I'm trans FTM and if I was going stealth I'd hate for someone to write a fic where I'm a girl. But like, Damian isnt a real person, nor stealth FTM, so it's just a weird little hyper-empathy thing.

I love the name Yesenia! and I love her retiring. Consider: BF/Husband is FTM. T4T gotta love it. Also for your consideration: Bf/Husband is Jon (maybe trans maybe not). ALSO for your consideration: GF/Wife is Jon. She goes by Sadie. She's super into the headpats meta. Loves stuffed animals. Yesenia coming out inspires her to come out as well and Yesenia is like "my yuri fantasies are coming true."

Yesenia looks just like Talia. It's adorable. She loves having long hair. Sadie is a butch lesbian and Yesenia thinks its soo attractive. She starts sending Sadie memes about crushing on butch women and Sadie is like "...do you like me?" Yesenia is like "What haha whatever gave you that impression?" "Well.... I like you. I can be your hot butch gf." Yesenia dies of gay panic (very sad story) just kidding they get MARRIED!!! LETS GO LESBIANS! I so so love jondami au where they are rebellious teenage lesbians. I want them to have sleepovers where they look back and go "Oh that whole thing was one giant egg moment."

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I watched Man Up (2015) a couple weeks ago, and I have been wanting to write a post about it ever since, because... how can I put this.

Man Up is a romcom that is structured in surprisingly classical ways. The action happens within roughly 24 hours. There's good twists and turns you don't expect. It has sweet quiet moments complemented by high emotion moments. The casting is really good in its aim for naturalism in both looks and performances.

But then... the movie shoots itself on the foot with...

sex and alcohol.

And you'll say "Scarlet, you are a prude!!!" Yes, I kinda am, but the fascinating thing is that it isn't about that? I don't think I've ever watched a romcom where these were problems at the level of plot and characterization in such an obvious, stark way.

Let's talk alcohol first because it will help me explain the plot at the same time.

We open with our main character, Nancy, trying to gather the courage to go to an engagement party. She gives up and orders some food and drinks from the minibar. She ends up going to the party where she has at least two mojitos. The next morning she has a mild hungover, and takes the train home for her parents' 40th wedding anniversary.

She accidentally meets Jack and they go on a date. They chat and drink beers and eat chips. He then takes her to a Mexican cantina where they do tequila shots and chat some more. Then he takes her to a bowling alley where they do bowling, eat some snacks, and drink some beers. Then they go back to the cantina, and bump into Jack's ex and her new partner. They have more beer, whiskey, and another tequila shot. Nancy then goes home to her parents' party, and Jack goes on another date, where he, of course, drinks another beer.

Even at these point and to the end, both characters look and behave completely sober.

Meanwhile, Nancy's sister, her husband, and their parents are preparing for the pary by... you got it... going to the store to purchase booze! An important part of a scene is about setting up the white wine sofa and the red wine sofa.

Looking for Nancy, Jack mistakenly crashes on a teen house party, where there's, of course, alcohol, and he holds a girl's hair while she vomits and he tells her of a hungover cure.

And I'm here like... it's not only a bit ridiculous that apparently Jack's alcohol resistance is over 2L of beer and 4 tequila shots combined, and he doesn't need to go to the bathroom and is perfectly capable of the fade-to-black sex at the end, but... what was the point? Why does this movie focus so much on alcohol and then never says anything about it? It's not a commentary on modern day hopelessness, addiction or consummerism or anything like that.

At what point of your screenplay writing you stop and think "mmm, isn't all this drinking becoming a little repetitive?" IDK. If it has no meaning, maybe switch the first date thing for ice-cream. Maybe they only have food at the Mexican cantina the first time they go there. IDK. But as it is, it is distracting.

Then, sex. The first one is classic and well known: the sex joke that is not a joke. The "writer thinks people saying embarrassing sex things in a public setting constitutes a joke". It's a truth universally acknowledged that a joke must have a set up and a punchline and that the relationship between those two must have a degree of absurdity to it that causes hilarity. "This situation IRL would make people laugh nervously because they'd be uncomfortable" does not constitute a joke, and is, as a general rule, not funny. Putting it several times into the story won't make it funny either.

Then there's... the stalker. Nancy has a stalker, and the movie attempts to play it for laughs. They went to school together. He knows where her parents live. He knows she has no social media. He's taken pictures of her in her bedroom that she didn't know of. He attempts to blackmail her into giving him sexual favors. THIS MOVIE TREATS THIS AS FUNNY IN THE YEAR OF THE LORD 2015.

Jack and Nancy are presented as opposites -Nancy is cynical, Jack is the hopeless romantic that opens his notebook in the middle of the date to write her name and surround it with heart doodles. No, that happens in the movie, really. There's also a running gag that whenever they dance his hands automatically go to her butt. He then grabs it in the middle of her parents' wedding anniversary party. In front of everyone. WHILE EVERYONE IS SPECIFICALLY LOOKING AT THEM. That's... that's not very character consistent, movie.

And then there's... the ending. There's this whole tension throughout the movie about how Nancy is supposed to be at her parents' wedding anniversary instead of her date with Jack. They lose each other when she's too quiet inviting him and he's too distracted to notice that she's inviting him to go with her. Her dad wonders if she'll bring him to the party and if the date won't be their anniversary as well. When Nancy's stalker pretends he's Jake, Nancy is framed as feeling alienated from the party. She comes back to herself to give her speech, and then Jack storms in the middle of it.

All this set up is building the importance of this family and this community as the framework where the kind of committed, trusting, vulnerable relationship Jack seeks and Nancy wants but is afraid of can flourish. Nancy's parents have been together for 40 years and they are happy and they have friends and family they love and are loved by! But the movie doesn't end with Jack being welcomed into this circle.

It ends with Jack and Nancy leaving the party to go have sex in a bathroom, and Nancy telling her stalker that she'll send him pictures. I kid you not. It's just so jarringly anticlimactic that way.

It was such a strange experience, because we often talk of the sex scene or sex-related scene that is there just to have it, but that contributes nothing to the plot and could have been cut without the movie losing anything, but in this case it actually made it a less cohesive, less consistent, less focused story just by being included. That's something alright.

[erenslovah]

DISLIKE?

Part One Part Two

Summary:You're a famous and great footballer,one of the greatest footballers you had a crush on turned out to be a complete ass,something will change maybe?

A/n:Nah cuz Idek,I started writing this at 5:55 am until 7:20 and I went to school and I just finished it,Idk if this gets attention I'm probably going to make a part 2

WARNINGS:Cursing,hate,trapping,blood,Jude being a complete ass😻😻

Jude and his family were watching TV,there you were,you were in an interview,Denise really liked you,and jude's father too.

Jude finds you annoying,his ex broke up with him cuz she was insicure because she knew Denise liked you alot and a few people shipped you with Jude,and he has developed hatred for you.

He keeps seeing edits of you,and videos everywhere,you were very kind hearted and nice,you were good looking too,like alot,people recently were going crazy for you,even his teammates and alot of his friends.

You were a footballer,a great footballer.

He keeps seeing you everywhere,his thoughts were cut off when the interviewer asked you what you thought about Jude Belligham.

'He's a great footballer,I like that he achieved great things at such a young age,I hope he can go on with his career and become more famous and a professional,he has a big potential'.

Denise turned to her son smiling at him 'Why do you hate her?She's so sweet,she's the one for you Jude'.

'No,she's annoying,she's probably doing that for attention,or to seem sweet'

'Jude' his mother glared at him,she turned to the TV when the interviewer asked you what you thought about Richarlison.

'I mean,he's my husband I don't know what y'all on'

Denise turned to Jude 'You better make a move'.

Jude was on the field,he was annoyed and nervous,why?YOU WERE COMING HERE.

You're so annoying and such a pick me,he couldn't understand why his teammates were exited to see you.After a few minutes you came and his teammates were so happy,they all greeted you happily,and they called his name and told him to come and greet you.

'Mate come here!' Phil souted.

Jude came even if he didn't want to,there you were,ugly as alwyas trying to have all the attention thinking that everyone wanted you.

He looked at you and you didn't spare him a glance.

'Hey I'm here' he said and you turned your head towards him 'Oh,hi I didn't see you sorry' you greeted him,and he only looked at you,and then he scoffed and went away.You were shocked,why was he acting like that?

The guys feeling the tension suggested you guys played for a while,they started to decide what you were gonna play,but your mind was on Jude,you didn't know what was wrong.

'Jude?' He lifted his head,scoffing when he saw you 'Are you okay?Something's wrong?Me and the guys are playing,you want to play with us?'

'No' he stood up and went away,he exited the field,you followed him.

'Did I say something wrong?What's wrong?'

'Can you shut the fuck up?For one minute,please shut your mouth,god you're so annoying,go annoy someone else,not me,I'm not blind and I won't feel for your plan to make everyone obsessed with you,literally shut the fuck up,you like whoring around so much,huh?'

You were still,not moving confused and on the verge of tears,you didn't know why he snapped like that on you.He noticed the tears in your eyes.

'Aww you're gonna cry now?Fucking crybaby' he said whilst pinning you to the wall behind you,you started crying,not being able to contain yourself,he looks down at you disgusted,he feels satisfied.He's proud but he feels kinda..Guilty?

'Stop crying' you started wiping the angry tears.

'You look even more ugly' you wanted to beat the shit out of him,but you just couldn't knowing that you'll feel bad about it later even if he deserves it.

He let's go of you after a while,you feel sick,meanwhile he goes back in the field.

'Mate did you see [name]?'

'She's inside doing something' he said,after a few minutes you came back,no signs of you crying visible on you face.

You guys started playing,Jude saw how well his teammates treated you,they never treated his ex like this.He's furious.When you catch the ball,he runs to you tackling you,you fell.Hard,blood started coming out of your nose and your mouth,his teammates rush to you

After taking care of you,his teammates confronted him,why was he acting like that?

'What the fuck mate?What's wrong?'

Jude didn't know what to say,he would've cried,if you didn't protect him.

'Guys he didn't mean to,it happens sometimes,it's football,I'm fine really'

The day ended and everyone was going back home,everyone was leaving and you took it as an opportunity to go talk to Jude.

'Jude?I'm sorry for what happened earlier,I hope you're fine'

You're so irritating.

'Shut up,I didn't need your help'

He grabbed you and trapped you between him and a locker.His face was so close to yours,you looked in his eyes.

Your chest was pressed against his.His mind running miles after the realization,he kinda liked the feeling of your chest against his.

You made eye contact,the tension reaching the moon.You try to squirm away,feeling flustered.

'Stay still' you stop moving,he's quite intimidating...

[salemssimblr]

get to know me tag

I was tagged by @morrigan-sims. Thank you so much for the tag! ♥️

I'll put mine under the cut too cause I'm particularly chatty today

show your wallpaper and the last song you listened to.

For me this requires a photo! As I have my external display and my mac display and they're different. So, have a workspace reveal!

Last song is Your Love by One True God & Roniit

currently reading?

Nevernight by Jay Kristoff... but barely. I've been moving it from room to room with the intention of curling up with it but then I render or write instead. Oops.

last movie?

Don't laugh (ok you can laugh) but it was the second Austin Powers movie. My husband's never seen them all the way through and they're on Netflix only until June 30th. Don't judge us too hard lmfao

last show?

The Queen's Gambit. I watched it when it was released, but hubby didn't.

craving?

The New Orleanian in me is craving this one cocktail served at my favorite restaurant. The restaurant closed down for covid and reopened literally only a few weeks ago but it looks like that cocktail isn't on their menu anymore. Afaik I think it was vodka and raspberry jam??? Phenomenal. It was called the Little Red Dog. We're going to that restaurant tomorrow and I'm praying if I ask for it they can make it but I don't have my hopes up.

what are you wearing right now?

Sweatpant material shorts I stole from my dad one weekend years ago and a shirt from The Strand bookstore in NYC. (Work pajama outfit lmfao)

how tall are you?

My ID says 5'2" but I think that's bullshit. An even 5'. Would've been shorter but I had my scoliosis corrected at 12 (I'm a terminator, baybeee) & I gained 2 inches from the surgery.

piercings?

2 holes in each lobe, 1 nose ring, and a closed up lip piercing I wish I still had but not enough to get it re-opened. I hope to get several more.

tattoos?

Two so far, a semicolon on the back of my neck (gotten before the semicolon tattoo movement) & a paper crane on my right wrist in memory of my late best friend. I want to get several more and have been actively ignoring the itch because my big wedding ceremony is in October... but after 👀 I think I was a big crow on my back/across one shoulder. And a few other small ones I've been thinking about. I've also always wanted bats behind my ear so maybe that too.

glasses or contacts?

Glasses! I'd love to wear contact but, fun trivia for your Friday, did you know that taking birth control longterm literally changes the shape of your corneas? I didn't either. But I'm pretty sure that happened to me and now I can't wear contacts without extreme discomfort. So, glasses for me.

last thing you ate?

Sliced mango and pomegranate seeds (:

favorite color?

Red, black, dark blues.

current obsession?

My current and forever obsession is Vignettes, the story my bestie and I are writing together. It's wild how this one storyline has become my entire personality, and I'm not at all mad about it.

any pets?

One sweet sweet little fur-son named Loki!

he squint

favorite fictional character?

This is such a hard question for me to answer cause I have wildly fluctuating obsessions and right now I'm most obsessed with my own fictional characters, but. Kaz Brekker will always have a place in my heart. I loved him from his very first appearance in Six of Crows. Same for Nikolai Lantsov in Shadow & Bone. I loved Alina for the longest time too but I think her depiction in the show soured me on her a bit, idk. I have a lot of strong feelings about the Netflix adaptation I could write a whole dissertation on. I've also held the Abhorsen series (& Sabriel) close to my heart since I read it literally in middle school. I re-bought Sabriel a while ago and need to read it again.

last place you traveled?

I don't remember for sure if our most recent trip was to Houston when we got engaged or to North Carolina for my husband's best friend's wedding. Either way, it's been too long since we traveled and I need to go somewhere stat! haha

I'm tagging @buttertrait, @angelgnomeisdeadrip, @druidberries, @simlishpiadina, @kotpicard, @leafbatraccoon, @raiiny-bay, @chaoticsimlish, @omgkayplays & anyone else who wants to do this! Feel free to say I tagged you!

[impossiblefangirl0632]

15 Questions

Tagged by @16magnolias. Thanks friend! 🙂

1. Were you named after anybody?

My middle name is my mom's sister's name. I think my parents just liked my first name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday. IDR what it was anymore but there was something particularly touching/sad in the star trek episode we watched.

3. Do you have kids?

Not yet. My husband and I both want them though so it'll happen.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes. Not as much as I used to and I feel like it's become a tool for when I'm in a bad mood which is something I'd like to change

5. What sports do you play/have played?

I played soccer a little as a kid and I was technically on a competitive archery team in high school but I just went to shoot at the practices, I never actually competed.

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

IDK probably their general vibe? Clothes, how they hold themself, their expression, etc

7. Eye color?

blue-grey

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. Intense movies make me really anxious so I'm not going to willingly watch something that's trying to scare me.

9. Any special talents?

Um. I like to think I'm okay at being an empathetic listener. In person anyway, I'm rubbish at it over text. Oh and I guess I'm good at making fruit pies. And I know a lot about plants.

10. Where were you born?

USA

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading, writing, drawing, embroidery, hiking, listening to music, playing violin

12. Do you have any pets?

No. I did growing up but I married someone who was around a lot of feral street dogs in Chile for a while and it kind of put him off the idea of ever getting one. I may be able to convince him to let us get a cat. Maybe. One day.

13. How tall are you?

5'6" It's funny, I'm the shortest in my family (by less than an inch but as the youngest it's annoying) but I'm the tallest woman in my husband's family by several inches which amuses me.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Orchestra. But if we're going academics, math. It finally clicked for me in 7th grade algebra and I appreciated that there was a clear answer. I love reading but didn't really enjoy language arts (which I think was largely due to the teachers I had. When I liked the teacher it was great. My AP Lang teacher however was a nightmare and I disliked the class and subject just to spite her after that.)

15. Dream job?

Published author of a book that makes a lot of money so I never have to do anything landscape architecture related again and can move back to Edinburgh and be a stay at home mom for my kids.

Tagging (no pressure): @selcaby @madrigaljail @noellemadrigal @a-streetcar-named-fitzwilliams @foggyfanfic and whoever wants to do it idc

[loveandscience]

been in and out of intense anxiety the last couple days, so maybe writing it here will help

Okay so my old dentist who I loved retired, and gave his practice over to a new guy. Tuesday, I went to try out the new dentist and very loudly in the next room while I had my teeth cleaned, he was telling someone how they didn't need a crown or something because God designed the perfect teeth system?????

And as soon as he introduces himself to me, he out of the blue goes on about a "beautiful sermon I heard" on the way to work, and how this really ill woman had so much faith that she would just get better, and that she "touched Jesus" and was instantly healed. I'm sitting there with his sharp tools in my mouth and he's going on a religious rant and what the fuck am I going to do? He does tell me I have 2 cavities, then overcharges me for the cleaning and "exam."

Decided I really needed a new fucking dentist, and thankfully my friends suggested some to try. So Wednesday, I called a place and they got me in, and they were so nice and professional and I really liked them! They did another exam on me and apparently the last dentist (maybe the one before, too) had missed an entire fucking dead tooth???? It's been discolored for years but old dentist never thought it was an issue... Apparently it's dead and needs a root canal. Who the fuck knows how long it's been dead. Terrifying. Also they say it's 3 cavities not 2.

Anxious about the root canal, I've never had one, and it's so expensive. The same day I have my root canal, I also am driving somewhere I've never been an hour away to see my new liver doctor, and that's also terrifying.

On top of those expenses, I'm hoping to sign kiddo up for Brazilian Jiu Jitsu lessons bc I think it'll be really good for them and they are really interested.

But I've also had several clients transition to every other week or end, which is good they're doing better. I also have less income though so need to market again for new clients. Husband was planning to increase his income by taking classes paid for by work, but the classes are taking so long that I wouldn't be surprised if it takes all year, which is not what we'd hoped for a timeline.

Pet Day at kiddo's school is coming up and last year's Pet Day, we brought our cat who ended up dying shortly after. He had cancer which obviously wasn't caused by Pet Day, but I do think he picked up a virus which might have exacerbated the cancer. I'm planning to make sure every kid sanitizes their hands before touching the cat we bring this time, and bringing the young healthy one instead of the old frail one. Still some anxiety.

Wanted to take kiddo to this snow place in FL this weekend, but tickets plus parking are 100 dollars, yikes. So been incredibly anxious about that. Just before clicking buy I checked and it's supposed to be thunderstorms that day, so texted the friend we were planning to go with and hoping we can put that off... Really anxious they might have already bought tickets even though they said they'd wait til after I bought ours (maybe they could pick up on my anxiety around committing, idk).

So the common theme, laying these all out, seems to be financial. Which is sad, because I wanted to scale back on work and be able to rest more and focus on my health, but with husband not likely to be making much more money any time soon, it means I need to work more hours. Which is hard with the amount of dr appointments I'm going to have to be having.

At least... I got a little while of getting to work out almost daily and rest up.

[siren-serenity]

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀/𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

if you've read my 'about me' section, you probably might know that i love reading manwha/manga! the apps i primarily use are from tapas and webtoon so you might have/have not heard of some of these works. without further ado, let's get started!

↳˳;; ❝ 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐒 ᵕ̈೫˚∗

romance ⋆·˚ ༘ * beware the villainess! ⋆·˚ ༘ * the villainess is a marionette ⋆·˚ ༘ * villainesses have more fun ⋆·˚ ༘ * i shall master this family ⋆·˚ ༘ * the male lead's little lion daughter (a/n: although it is under the romance section, it's currently non-romantic! it states it in the description, which made me put it here) ⋆·˚ ༘ * my boss's special request ⋆·˚ ༘ * the siren: becoming the villain's family ⋆·˚ ༘ * revenge on the real one ⋆·˚ ༘ * marriage of convenience ⋆·˚ ༘ * villains are destined to die ⋆·˚ ༘ * what it means to be you (a/n: caution! heavy mentions of depression and suicide, but the plotline is very interesting!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * cassmire: the loyal sword ⋆·˚ ༘ * writing my male lead's happily ever after ⋆·˚ ༘ * just leave me be ⋆·˚ ༘ * the perks of being a villainess

action ⋆·˚ ༘ * solo leveling (a/n: it's getting an anime adaptation yall!!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * the novel's extra ⋆·˚ ༘ * gourmet gaming ⋆·˚ ༘ * second try idol ⋆·˚ ༘ * rookie chef with the magic touch

↳˳;; ❝ 𝐖𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐍 ᵕ̈೫˚∗

romance ⋆·˚ ༘ * the remarried empress ⋆·˚ ༘ * secretary out-of-order ⋆·˚ ༘ * marry my husband ⋆·˚ ༘ * daytime star ⋆·˚ ༘ * serena ⋆·˚ ༘ * leveling up my husband to the max ⋆·˚ ༘ * maybe meant to be (a/n: ML, please just get contacts...i'm begging you) ⋆·˚ ༘ * operation: true love ⋆·˚ ༘ * your throne (a/n: two badass FL is all i can ask for :)) ⋆·˚ ༘ * for my derelict favorite ⋆·˚ ༘ * sixth sense kiss ⋆·˚ ༘ * my in-laws are obsessed with me ⋆·˚ ༘ * i thought my time was up!

action ⋆·˚ ༘ * omniscient reader (a/n: literally my #1 on webtoon! bro i'm addicted to the art and the storyline like hello please grant me those magical abilities tq) ⋆·˚ ༘ * the greatest estate developer (a/n: the mc is so funny like pls- his expressions lmao!! every other second the guy's like: "money, money, money, must be funny, in the rich man's world") ⋆·˚ ༘ * get schooled (honestly i loved this series so much that i binged all 100+ episodes in two days! it finished it's first season and i love each and every arc. the art was magnificient. the character development was amazing. i love it so much!!) ⋆·˚ ༘ * teenage mercenary (10/10 for real!! ijin is so badass, i love the entire concept and 006 can marry me. oh, and 005 can willingly have me as her puppet. i binged all 110+ episodes in two days also! right before exams- sue me, but goddamn i love the series) ⋆·˚ ༘ * lookism (holy shit this was a rollercoaster of emotions idk how i'm going to recover from it- ITS SO GOOD LIKE I JUST WANT MORE!! 400+ EPISODES CAN'T HOLD ME BACK I NEED MOREE)

horror ⋆·˚ ༘ * melvina's therapy (a/n: personally, i'm not into horror but i read a couple of chapters of this and loved it! the art is amazing, everything has so many intricate details that the author literally has to put a message at the end of each 'mini-story' to show the readers little easter eggs they sneaked in and i'm always like: wth??) ⋆·˚ ༘ * surviving romance (a/n: the art is so beautiful!! the plot is tso heartwrenchingly sad, funny, and gorgeous all at once! i binged read all 80+ chapters in two days hahaha)