#I've been chipping away at this beast all week

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

Chapter 18: Three Words

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

girldad!joel

Hi, it's me thinking about Sarah's dad Joel Miller again. I've been seeing the wonderful headcanons floating around and I just couldn't get all of these sweet images out of my head.

girldad!joel holding a band in between his lips as he keeps glancing down at a magazine tutorial on how to style Sarah’s hair for her first school dance. “It wouldn’t hurt if you just stopped squirming baby girl.”

girldad!joel taking the day off from work to chaperone Sarah’s class field trip to the farm. He sits on the bus, his broad body takes up a whole seat. He gives Sarah her space but she just can’t help hanging with him the whole day. 

girldad!joel wrapping presents on Christmas Eve and lining them up under the tree, stepping back and being proud of how many gifts he can buy his little girl. 

girldad!joel picking Beauty and the Beast to watch for movie night because he feels a lot like Maurice, a single father who would do anything for his spunky, smart daughter.

girldad!joel pouring two bowls of cereal and joining Sarah on the couch for cartoons on Saturday morning. He relishes these lazy mornings, even if Sarah almost always spills milk on the couch.

girldad!joel grocery shopping, trying to stick within his budget but allowing the splurge of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a teeny bopper magazine for Sarah because she’s always such a big help.

girldad!joel dropping Sarah off for her first day of kindergarten, telling her she’s such a big girl and how proud he is of her. He only allows himself to feel a sense of pride that he’s taking good care of his baby girl after he steps up into his truck and is alone. A single tear wells in his eye before he starts the engine and drives to work. 

girldad!joel wearing a cheap plastic tiara and not being able to fit the acrylic ring around his thick finger while sitting around the coffee table and playing Pretty Pretty Princess with Sarah.  

girldad!joel taking Sarah to the hardware store to pick out the perfect color for her big girl bedroom. She sleeps in his bed that night while the paint dries, Joel stays up relishing the feel of her little, warm body against his because he knows it’ll probably be the last time he can hold his baby girl as she falls asleep. 

girldad!joel letting Sarah pick the music in his truck, his cheeks turning pink when she starts to tease him that he actually *does* like the new boy band song. 

girldad!joel putting the little WORLD'S BEST DAD trophy keychain Sarah bought him at the school Christmas store on his keys.

girldad!joel nervously stammering through asking Sarah if she needs any “uh… pads or… hmm… tampons” before he leaves for the store feeling slightly embarrassed at how she rolls her eyes at his embarrassment and tells him she’s good. 

girldad!joel eating all of the marshmallows Sarah burns before she toasts the perfect one for her smore. 

girldad!joel waking up on Saturday morning exhausted from a long week of work guzzling coffee down while he helps Sarah get ready for her soccer game. 

girldad!joel looking up from all of his invoices and complimenting Sarah’s newest colored coloring page while they sit at the dining room table. 

girldad!joel helping Sarah learn to ride her bike, which she easily learns. He takes a giant breath when he watches her pedal away without his help. She’s getting so big.

girldad!joel folding laundry on the couch while watching the Rangers game, he gets a little emotional thinking about how much bigger Sarah’s clothes are now. He fondly remembers folding her onesies and pajamas when he was just an overwhelmed single father of a baby.

girldad!joel wearing the BEST FLIPPIN’ DAD apron Sarah bought him while preparing Thanksgiving dinner for her and Tommy. Boxed mashed potatoes, Stove Top stuffing, jarred gravy, canned cranberries, canned yams with lots of marshmallows on top, Jiffy cornbread, and a turkey that might be a little too dry. Sarah thinks all of it is delicious and saves extra room for grocery store bakery baked pumpkin pie with extra whipped cream. 

girldad!joel stuffing Easter eggs with candy and coins and hiding them all over the house while Sarah sleeps. He cheekily acts shocked when she finds the hidden golden egg with $5 stuffed inside. “Wow baby girl! That’s a lot of money!” 

girldad!joel swearing to himself while putting together a Barbie Dream House for Sarah’s birthday. His frustration grows when part 3C won’t plug into wall 4A. 

girldad!joel dropping Sarah off at Uncle Tommy’s for a sleepover before his first actual date in ten years. Tommy wishes him good luck as he grabs Sarah’s pink backpack from him, Joel can tell his brother’s nervous for him. He’s nervous as hell too. 

girldad!joel shyly letting you know that he has a young daughter, hoping you don’t run away because he really likes you. His heart beats rapidly when you give him a warm smile and ask about her. 

girldad!joel taking Sarah out for ice cream, both of them sitting on the tailgate of his truck. He sucks in a bracing breath before telling her how he’s met somebody who he really likes. She turns, mint chocolate chip green all over her mouth and smiles a wide grin telling him how excited she is and that finally he found someone who could deal with him. 

Also, imagine Joel listening to "Robin" by Taylor Swift. You got the dragonflies above your bed You have a favorite spot on the swing set You have no room in your dreams for regrets You have no idea The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean You'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline But now we'll curtail your curiosity In sweetness

[heartfullofleeches]

Hey how about Everglades darling x Raccoon yandere 🦝🦝🦝

The trash panda fell in love when the Everglades darling fed them So they wouldn't have eat out of the garbage 🥰🤣😆🦝

Raccoon Hybrid Yan still digs through their trash, but now they do it to locate the precious artifacts Everglades Reader throws away-

-

Equiped with your phone and a backpack full of whatever you might need during your exploration, you step out the front door for another exciting day in your never ending search of the evasive beast known as the twenty foot python. Marching down the steps, loud banging catches your ear from the side of your house where you normally leave your trash bins.

Not again-

Pocketing your phone, you race down the short flight to locate the souce of the banging before they're able to run off. Rotten fish and discarded trash crunch and squelch beneath your feet as the grass of your lawn parts way to the gravel of your driveway. You hate to waste the gifts you've received from those you met in the swamp, but the smell from your kitchen was starting to act like a beacon to your house.

"Hey!"

"Shit-" Dangling legs desperately kick at the sides of your trashcan, puffy tail thrashing as they wipe at the air searching for ground. Wrapping your arms around their waist, you lift them over the side of the bin - releasing them as the smell of decay assaults your nostrils.

Pinching your shirt over the bridge of your nose, you peal a chip bag from their ear. "If you're hungry you can just knock on my front door. What happened to all the food I gave you two nights ago?"

"Oh, that's back at my tent! Don't worry, I'll ration it! I'm not looking for food this time, just things you don't need anymore that you won't mind me taking!"

Looking at their clothing, you notice something familiar about the stains on their shirt.

"Is that the shirt i threw out last night? I've been using it as a rag for weeks."

"Yeah....But since you threw it out I can keep it, right?"

"Get inside the house. We're getting you a bath and some new clothes. Might also need to invest in some locks for my trashcans."

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.11<< >>Ch.13

Notes: Miguel shows you a very important person that was in his life.

CW: Grieving/mourning

Artwork done by @/Melteyyo on Twitter

Chapter 12: Just Let My Love Adorn You

Word count: 6.3K

For the past couple of weeks, you and Miguel have been essentially inseparable. Every other night, he would sneak you into the HQ or cut his days shorter and shorter to hang out at your place or job. 

Occasionally spending an hour at the botanical garden if given the chance.

Miguel's excuses started to become more noticeable and rampant as to why he couldn't be around for certain assignments or missions.

A game of telephone began when a few spiders gossiped and took bets about where their commander vanishes to; however, it escalated quite rampantly when Miguel's attitude seemed slightly less perturbed.

He would still retain those explosive moments, then promptly inhale and exhale, following it up with an actual conversation. It didn't fully waver his palpable tantrums and hostility.

He just came off as less grumpy, and that was enough to get the snowball tumbling towards the steep. Betting pools were established by the braver ones, but they were quickly shut down when Jess caught wind of that.

She finds herself at the forefront exceedingly often now, and it's been grating on her. With her new underling, keeping track of the anomalies, piles of paperwork, and basically dealing with his tasks and her pregnancy.

Needless to say, Jess wasn't in the best of moods. She interrogated Miguel at any chance she was allowed, probing on about these codes and asking about the gizmos and goobers he keeps accumulating over time.

“This project must really be something big if you need all this junk. That's what? The sixth time that you went out to get these items in the span of two weeks, and I've yet to see you actually touch them.”

Jess dryly stated, picking up some busted chips and tossing them back into the cardboard box.

“I told you, Jess, several hundred times. It takes time. I'm going to use them; now let it go all the way. I'm tired of hearing about it.” Miguel typed away, a clear indication of displeasure.

“Oh, you're tired? That's so funny, because I don't think I'm tired of asking.” She crossed her arms over her protuberant stomach.

“Jess, will you just leave it?!” He jeered at her, but she refused to back down.

“And what about that code? Gwen asked me the other day about it. When exactly will you fix the portal's jerky momentum? I would've thought there would have been some prototypes or something.”

Jess knew she was poking the beast, but at this point, all care was thrown out the window.

“And those reports. You've been falling back again after that night when I told you to help. You were doing them for three days, but then you fell right back off!”

The sounds of metal echoed in the air as Miguel scraped his desk, incarcerating the explosion that was sneaking its way out.

A young spider in a gold and green one-piece turtleneck spandex leotard, covered in webs, froze at the ear-piercing noise.

Jess and Miguel faced the spider, who apprehensively shuffled backwards.

“I think I'm distributing something; I-I'll just ask later.”

They shot out a web, swinging as fast as their webs could carry them.

“Right. Miguel, I'm tired. I AM tired. After that first day, you came back two hours late. I said that would be the only time. But I kept letting it slide, trying to give you the benefit of the doubt!”

Jess threw her hands up, marching back and forth. “Now look at where that has gotten me! I'm the fool in your circus!”

He used his breathing techniques, cursing under his breath. He's done this by himself many times. He never got a break; he barely had any. He wanted to scoff at Jess as silence pricked the cold air.

He didn't need this.

“Jeez Miguel, did you have to send us on a mission like that? I nearly busted my back in that fight!”

He didn't need this.

“Peter, we did most of the fighting. You were too busy trying to get a hold of Mayday.”

“I don't know why I let her wear that web shooter today; that was an accident.”

An elated shrill, followed by clapping, sprang from below.

He didn't need this.

“Oi, are you going to acknowledge us? I know you don't like using manners, but at least pretend to show some.”

He REALLY didn't need this.

“Hey Jess, are you talking to Miguel about the portal thing?” Gwen greeted her mentor as the older woman just turned towards Miguel, whose back was the only thing for show.

“He hasn't made any progress.”

“What about portals, Gwendy?”

“Are you finally getting around to fixing it? Now that thing is janky for your back! I told you this before, Miggy!” Peter flung himself up on the high rise.

Miguel really tried using those breathing methods that you'd taught him, but so far, his nerves were winning. May, as usual, fled from her carrier and swung herself all over the room, screeching with full glee.

“Hey, where did you want us to store the anomaly? Peter here forgot to bring the light cages, though I still find that method of holding them in confinement as if they were animals indecent.”

“Look, I just happened to misplace them; it happens! Hey, are you doing alright there, buddy? Seems as if you’re about to blow a fuse.”

Peter scooted closer to the irritated man, as Miguel did everything in his power to not have an outburst. His muscles strained, his eyes drawn shut, mumbling to himself in Spanish. 

Jess apathetically stared, and a hand was planted on her hip. Hobie and Gwen side-eyed each other, curious about how this was going to pan out.

“What were you guys actually discussing, Jess?” Hobie leaned on a nearby steel wall, messing with one of his guitar picks.

Jess was taunting Miguel at this point, unapologetic about this whole situation. 

“He was just about to explain the mass of reports and what we were going to do about them. Isn’t that right, Miguel?”

He knew the game she was playing, and he wasn’t trying to join in. Peter approached even closer and bent over to take a look at his friend. “Hey, you’re good. Just say what you have to say.”

“So, are those portals not getting fixed?” Gwen swayed as Miguel’s anger tempted to jump out when he opened his mouth.

Then the lightbulb switched on.

“Gwen!” Miguel accidentally yelled at the young teen.

“Jeez, dude, you don’t have to do all that, but what’s up?”

“How good are you at filling out reports?”

Jess raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly where he was going with this.

“Uh, they’re pretty easy. Just like a high school essay, you’re bullshi-” Miguel narrowed his gaze at the ghost spider before she quickly caught herself. “Summarizing events by making them sound smart and sophisticated. I can do about, let’s see, fifteen in under an hour if the time permits.”

“You’re free from missions for the rest of the week to help Jess catch up on reports. I will also help out if I’m able to. If that's okay with you, Jess?” Miguel eyeballed her, derisiveness in that question.

Jess tongue was in her cheek as she could only roll her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Also, I do have code written up for the device. It’s just in my unique language, so taking notes will be a hassle for Spider-Byte to understand; however, I can make a simple guide for the ones that she is comfortable with. So tell her she can begin with that.”

Jess clicked her tongue and inclined her head. “Alright. I’ll get to her about that. Let’s go, Gwen, and I’ll supply you with a light cage, Hobie. Have a nice day, Peter. Miguel.”

Gwen shrugged her shoulders at the Brit, who nonchalantly joined in with her, as the three made their way out. 

May, who was crawling on the desk, was picked up by Peter, stunned by that display, as Miguel’s eyes darted from the PCs to the flabbergasted man, making him sweat.

“Will you stop looking at me that way?!”

“I have never seen you so calmly handle yourself like that before!” Peter joyfully slapped the dented desk a few times.

“So?”

“So? You’re learning how to control your temper! That’s really good for you. Have you been watching meditation videos? I do enjoy those zen ones, especially where you’re in a jungle. Hearing those aggressive caws and shrieks from whatever banshee that is really puts Mayday and I to sleep. Isn’t that right? That’s right, Mayday!”

Mayday cooed as Peter bounced her. Miguel just squinted and shook his head.

“No, none of that weird background noise. Just advice someone gave me to just get help from others.”

Peter scoffed and twisted his face at the background comment, then immediately perked up with a glint in his eye. “It’s that girl, isn’t it? It is! Look at you! How have you two been? Wait, you never told me about that date you went on with her; how did it go?”

Miguel stone-faced Peter, but his enthusiasm was oddly contagious. Miguel thought about the days you two have spent together and how you have given nothing but balance and care. He adores being by your side and wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re smiling!” Peter pointed at Miguel’s lips.

“N-no! I’m not smiling.” He replaced whatever crept on him with a disgruntled one.

“No, no, you can’t hide it from me." Peter teased him a bit more before patting his back. "I’m happy for you, bud. You deserve this and many more. I’m glad she can give something that many of us can't.”

Miguel bowed his head in thanks and for the recognition in general.

“Going to see her again?”

“Yes, tonight. Don’t tell anyone. And if something were to happen, I’m directing all calls to Lyla, so I’m letting you know in advance.”

“Yes, sir, captain vampire, sir.” Peter stood tall and saluted.

“Don’t ever say that again unless you want to keep that hand.”

“Right, duly noted. Oh! Time to head on off. Mary is making her famous tacos tonight, and I cannot miss that. See you later, Miguel. Don’t have too much fun now. Yes, they are bundles of joy, but I miss my sleep at times.”

“Peter!”

“Have a good rest of the day! Say bye-bye to Miguel, Mayday!” A gurgled attempt rang from the redhead as Peter ventured down the corridor, his babbling baby talk and May’s squeals dying down.

Miguel groaned out and waited until the only sounds he could hear were the machines and nothing more. He pulled out his phone and immediately began to text you.

‘We’re still on for tonight, mi Luna? Also, tell Ronnie to stop slipping her digital business cards in the boxes. I’m not passing them out at the HQ.’

Several seconds went by when a message from you popped up.

‘Yes, mi Estrella. My place or yours? And I told her. She immediately went into a tirade about how you’re being a bad business wing-partner? How it's profession 101, and you’re a “crappy” employee.’

‘Mines, I want to show you something. AND, tell her to stop saying that I'm working for her!’

An instant reply. ‘Got it. And show me something? What is it? Oh, and Ronnie says, and I quote: “You keep denying your work ethics, and I will have to write you up again, lackey.” You’re on thin ice with her, haha.’

‘It’s something that’s… very special to me. And name one time I’m not. I already passed her two-count warning, yet I still managed to garner more.’

‘Ooh, something special. Well, I’m very honored to see it. And she holds this soft spot for you, which she doesn’t give to many. So consider yourself lucky. I think?’

He imagined you giggling over that. 

‘Ay, don’t know if I would, but I don’t want her beating me with that bat, so I guess I’ll just have to accept it. But I’ll come get you later on tonight. I’ll see you then, mi corazón.’

‘You won’t get the weapon. I’ll make sure to put a stop to that! But I'll see you tonight, Miggy. I can’t wait to see you.’

Miguel had a slanted grin and settled the phone next to him. Peeking in the corner, a certain video replayed over and over. He dragged the recording to the middle of the screen, zooming it out.

He bleakly glazed over it, remembering that day so well. A harsh waft dragged from between his lips as his eyes tirelessly drooped as she smiled brighter than any star in the sky.

“Hola, Gabi. No pasa un día sin que te extrañe... I–do you remember that person I was telling you about before? The one where I didn’t know how they would react to all that I'd done? Well, they–they accepted that part of me, and it made me feel so warm. Si, mi osita, just like your favorite polka-dotted, fuzzy socks.” 

He gave a weak chuckle before continuing.

“Well, I want you to meet them tonight. I know it’s scary meeting new people; I understand, but don’t worry; this person is very kind and sweet. Si, sweeter than jamoncillo and sticky toffee pudding combined. Si, osita, I know they will like you, maybe even more than me. I promise you two will be—”

Miguel’s words got caught in his throat. 

“Would've been the best of friends.”

Rapidly blinking his eyes, he concealed the video in plain sight and went straight to work, trying to occupy his mind.

He found himself getting more frustrated as his own mind constricted him. The last few hours were rough on him, somehow worse than previous times, but when that alarm went off, signifying that it was time to get you, that burden parted halfway but was still attached to him.

Miguel dashed around the HQ, hiding in corners or clawing up the ceilings, sneaking into the giant ventilation systems whenever others passed by.

Rounding the exit he needed, he used his inhuman speed, taking a straight shot to the secret back entrance and portal over to your apartments.

Unbeknownst to him, the spider from earlier swung their way back into Miguel's dreary office, anxiously squeaking his name.

“Mr. Miguel? You in here? I have a very serious question regarding my future love life in this establishment!”

They poked their head through, swishing it back and forth.

“Mr. Miguel? Bleh bleh bleh?”

Stepping further in, they were met with an empty space, with Lyla lazily paying attention to the monitors.

“How does he do this all day? It's only been five minutes, and I'm so bored.”

She flicked around some display footage before scrolling over some social media websites.

“Are you kidding, he isn't here? I just need this simple question answered! They told me he's usually here! What the heck gives?” The spider grumbled and impatiently webbed away.

Lyla jumped at the voice before teleporting around, trying to locate who that exactly was as it faded away.

“Uh, I hope that wasn't important.” Lyla shrugged, returning her partial surveillance to the multiverse before immediately going back to scrolling around the internet.

The spider went around, questioning if anyone had seen Jess. After running back and forth for what seemed like ages, they finally tracked her down near the front lobby.

“Jessica! Mrs. Jessica!” The spider called out and flipped their way to the woman.

Jess dropped her arm from her face and blurred at the person wanting them. “Oh, you're that spider from earlier. Um, you're uh-”

“Spider-Tune. I'm from E-75309, but most people call me Jeni.”

“Right, one of the newer recruits. What's up?” Jess rested her back on the drywall.

Not wanting to delay or build up anticipation, Jeni clapped their hands together. “I was just curious about the dating rules and regulations here at the establishment.”

“You want to… date?” Jess raised an eyebrow.

“Mhm! I want to start dating someone.”

Jess gaped, her eyes casting from side to side, slightly perplexed. “Well, I mean, you can date anyone where you're from. No one is really preventing you.”

She waves a hand over her stomach.

“You know you'll just have to go through the training cou-”

“No, I mean, can I date another spider here in the headquarters? I'm aware I can in my world, but I've been talking to this really, really cute Peter, and I won't lie, I want in on that. So is that allowed, or do I have to jump through some hoops?”

Jess barely batted an eye. This wasn't the first time that question had been evoked. It only informs who carefully studied the guidelines versus who skimmed through them.

“Well, establishing a relationship with another spider is possible only within this dimension, but it's highly unacceptable.”

Jeni cocked their head. “So is that a yes?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

Jeni deadpanned as they tried to make sense out of it, making Jess heave out an exasperated sigh.

“If you are striving to date another spider, you may only do it on the grounds in this dimension. Sure, you may visit each other with the watches, but you'll eventually have to cut your losses as different people from different universes cannot intermingle. No merging. I am sure you are aware of that.”

Jeni whined and stamped their feet a few times. Jess wearily observed the spider's mini-tantrum and raised her hands.

“I'm sorry, but we have to enforce these rules to keep us all safe.”

“It’s just–it's so unfair how he gets to do it, but we can't. He gets to leave his job whenever, and he gets to date a spider-person? How typical.”

That caught Jess's ear, a probing look etched on her face. “What spiders are seeing each other? Do you know their names or earth numbers? I just want to make sure they know what they're getting themselves into.”

Jeni bobbed their head furiously. “Uh-huh! It's the big man himself. Just because he's the leader, he thinks he gets to go around and bring a Spider-woman from another dimension to his place, but we can't even do that in our own worlds? Such a double standard!”

Jess went dead silent. Her expression is grim. Then her eyebrows knitted together before morphing into a scornful, incredulous one.

“Oh, you have got to be—did you see him with this Spider-woman? Do you know who she is?”

Jeni yelped at the sudden steely, lividness. “Oh, well no, I haven't personally seen it. But one of my new friends said he sees Miguel with her. I wonder if she's a fresh hire as well.”

“Which friend?” Jess sent a chill down their spine.

“Pri- Pete- uh, E-77793 Peter. He only just tells me he sees them but doesn't go into detail because he's scared he'll get in trouble.”

Jess bit her tongue, both hands now firmly placed on her hips, her eyes leering in a specific direction.

“Alright. Alright. This heffa here really thinks he's... You're dismissed. Thank you for that, and have a good rest of your night.”

Jess turned and began to tread off back into the main hub of the building.

Jeni slack-jawed, their brain baffled at what just unfolded. “Think I got the big boss in trouble. Whoops. Well, don't make the rules if you can't follow them.” They mumbled and strolled off in a different direction.

“Lyla!” Jess stormed towards the elevators, a heated drive in her face.

“What's up? What's the rush?” The A.I. popped up next to her shoulder.

“I need access to the security cameras for all sectors near Miguel's apartment. Now.”

Lyla sucked in her teeth and picked the non-existent lint off her coat. “Ooh, no can do, Jess.”

Jess screeched her steps. “What do you mean you can't? I'm allowed access to all footage when he isn't here, and as far as that spider told me, he's not here. Lyla, I'm not in the mood to be playing these games.”

“No, no, I understand. But that's the thing. He's here; that's why I can't give them to you.”

Jess held back her own exploding temper. “Where is he? I need to speak with him.”

“No point in trying to have a pleasant conversation over tea. He barred himself up in the room. Something about working on an invention or something other.” She stretched her arms before crossing them.

“You can go, Lyla.” Her voice contained nothing but strain and sourness.

“Alright. See ya, Jess.” And with that, she was gone.

Jess rubbed her face and groaned furiously. “I'll have to gather evidence the old-fashioned way.”

She tapped her watch a few times, her eyes deeply fixed on trying to search for a certain spider.

“Alright. I hope you have a lot to say.” Jess rotated her body away from the elevators and out towards the front entrance.

• • •

“You did? Look at you!” You merrily jabbed at his arm.

You and Miguel were snuggling on his mattress, munching down on beef and chicken-flavored empanadas Miguel snagged from the canteen.

“It’s not much of a thing to be excited or proud about. I just wanted you to know I took your advice and it worked out.”

You puffed your cheeks and pouted your lips. “Hey, hey, no. It most definitely is. You’re trying to do more for yourself. You are taking into account what you feel as though you want or need to work on and applying it to situations. So yes, it is something to be proud of and excited about!”

Miguel snorted a bit and shook his head. “Ay dios mío, you sound like Peter.”

"Well, clearly, Peter and I have an eye for an eye. We can see something that you’ll see one day. But for now, we are just… transcending on a different quantum level!”

Miguel choked on his empanada, coughing loudly as spurts of laughter would burst out.

“I-is tha-that what you ca-call it?” He regained his breath and wiped away some tears.

You giggled alongside him, patting his back. “I honestly wasn't expecting that to get you.”

“I wasn't expecting it to get me either.”

He placed his empty container on the floor and scooted until his back hit the wall, wiping his hands on his pajama pants.

You followed suit, tossing your half-eaten fried treat in the take-out box. You both sit in comfortable silence, peace flowing in the air as you face ahead, nearly shoulder to shoulder.

You debated if you should ask about that special thing he wanted to show you, but decided to have him present it whenever he was ready. You were highly curious about it but didn’t want to come off as rude and pry too much. Miguel suddenly flopped his head backward.

“You’re allowed to ask, mi corazón. Even though it’s coming from me, you don’t need to feel as though you have to defer or walk around eggshells.”

“How did you know I was thinking of that? And I’m aware; I just don’t want you fraught or to trouble you.”

“Ay, mi Luna, you are the last person to make me go through those things.” He pulled out a tablet shoved underneath the mattress and handed it to you. “And let’s say it was a hunch on how I knew.”

Your eyes peered down at the dark screen, as the only thing casting was a reflection of you and Miguel. You continued gazing upon him, seeing how his expression dropped solemnly.

“I–there is someone I want you to meet. Someone who was... very dear and close to my heart.”

You figured out who might be, but kept your mouth shut and let him continue.

“I talked about her when we went to the botanical garden that first time, and I think now–now would be the best time for you to get to know her.”

You only nodded, allowing him to take over. As you understood, this must have been difficult for him to do. He inputted a password, and there was a single file on the device. He hesitated for a moment before a choking sob nearly escaped him.

He clicked on the image, and the video began to play. It was of a young girl wearing a football uniform who bore a striking resemblance to Miguel. They were both laughing, her on his shoulders with a cupcake in her hand.

“Hola, mi osita, te extraño muchísimo. Do you remember the person I was telling you about? This is her. Mi Luna, this is Gabriella.”

Even though the room was despondent, you managed to display an enthusiastic wave. “Hi Gabriella, it's so nice to meet you!”

Watching the screen together, you both soberly laugh when she gets icing on his cheek.

“How was she in football?”

“Oh, a beast. She was agile and calculating, always a step ahead of her opponent.” 

You darted your eyes up at him before going back to the video.

“She did have moments of playing rough. It wouldn't be a game without her getting at least one penalty, but she would make up for lost time tenfold.”

You grinned. “She sounds like she was the brightest ray of sunshine.”

“It was never a dull day with her, I can tell you that.”

You both continued watching when the video ended and clicked off as you noticed teardrops on the tablet screen. You looked up at Miguel, wiping his eyes and trying to cover them with his hands. You blinked a few times, wanting to hold back your own, but refused and allowed them to fall along with him.

“She was beautiful, Miguel. Is. You–you said she was someone very deep and close to your heart, but I believe she still is. And she will always be as long as she remains in your heart, soul, and mind.”

Miguel tilted his head down and was met with that emphatic smile. You were so compassionate and gentle. Your patience never falters, no matter what. More hot tears splashed down his nose, jaw, and cheeks, and right onto his pants and sheets.

You fully handed him the tablet. When it was in his hands, he hugged it.

He hugged it like it would disappear from his grasp. It would be gone just like that. He trembled as he unclenched his jaw and opened his mouth.

A strangled sob escaped. It was painful, as it took a few heaves, but it eventually flowed out. You rubbed his arm and shoulder, silently weeping with him.

You knew you may never fully understand the pain he's going through, but you knew right now that all he needed was a shoulder to cry on. That you would give him the water he wants and needs to have him grow into that flower that will bring its bloom back.

And Miguel would allow you to give him every drop.

Two strings lie stranded.

Miguel spooned you as you both observed the city and night.

After crying both of your tear ducts dry and cradling each other and the tablet, you two pacified your minds, spending the next hour quiet, cuddling and massaging each other's backs, arms, and shoulders.

“Mi Luna?”

You hummed, nestling more into his warming hold.

“How do you feel about kids? Would you ever have any?”

Your eyes jutted open, and you repositioned yourself so you were looking into his crimson-brown eyes.

“Oh, well. I enjoy being around them. I would like to have some, as they bring joy and all…”

You trailed off, as did your eyes. You felt wrong about this, especially after what he has been and is going through. You didn't think it was the most appropriate thing to delve into.

Miguel noticed your dispirited expression as he cupped your face, rubbing his retracted claw over your soft cheek.

“Corazón, it's okay. I'm asking you. I want to talk about this with you. I know you believe this isn't right, but I'm telling you everything we discuss right now will not hurt me. It'll sting, but I will manage."

Even him speaking those words shocked him.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel as if you're required to chat about this.”

“Oye. Ay, te preocupas mucho por mí. Go ahead and finish your answer.”

He knocked his forehead on yours, making you huff and chuckle.

“Okay, okay. I would like to have a pretty big family, but as of now, I think I'll start with one or two. Help me understand the grounding of how it'll go.”

“It makes sense when you lay it out like that.”

You nodded your head as the air suddenly tensed up. Miguel released a spent sigh.

“Ask, mi corazón. I'm not going to get upset or go into a downcast state. I had these thoughts myself if I'm asking you for your opinions and views.”

Squeezing his broad shoulders, you briefly nodded. “Okay, if you say it's okay, it's okay! Well, I know how you feel about kids, but if given the possibility... to have more, how many would you have?”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling, pretending to be deep in thought, before gazing back down. “Like you, I would've wanted a big family. I would want them to be endlessly spawned.”

You beamed at that. “I'm not surprised you would want so many.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He tickled your sides, making you squeal and fidget.

“Hey! Hey!” You laughed, gently slapping before alluding for him to keep going.

“Let's see, how would you raise your kids? What would you like them to be like?”

"Well, like I said before, kids require a lot of patience, so I'll show them kindness and care. I may have stern moments, but I will want them to understand at their own pace as well. Maybe show more than tell certain actions.” 

You rested your head on his chest. “And how would I want them to be? I mean, I have moments where I imagine them to be a certain way, but I know that at the end of the day, they are still their own people. I can introduce activities and hobbies, but it's up to them if they'll like to continue.”

Your eyes wandered. “Maybe we can do things that will become a tradition. Family cooking on certain days, maybe a big trip once or twice a year. Things like that.”

Miguel stroked your back and smiled. “You put a lot of thought into this.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you could only gleam. “Your turn, mister.”

“Si, si.” He tittered out. “Let's see, I would want them to be able to venture out and face things for themselves. I will still show them the ropes and love, but I'm sure I can push them to the wolves. They'll be fine. It'll be fun.”

You crumpled your face, causing him to crack up. “Joking! Estoy bromeando, lo prometo. But I would want them to strive and work hard towards the goals and aspirations they will have. With a little bit of being thrown into the den.”

“Miggy!” You nudged him with your chin.

“I'm joking! Joking. Yeah. Let's go with that.” He kisses your forehead.

“What's one thing you would want them to inherit from you?” You perked your head in between his pecs.

“Mentally or physically?”

“Both.”

“Well, my intelligence. As you said, I have that big boy brain for science and math.” You both grinned at that. “And physically? I…”

You watched as Miguel slightly dissociated before faintly blinking back. “I–nothing. I'm too much of a… of a–”

“A strong man with beautiful features and incredible powers?”

“Whose body is horribly genetically altered into this giant freak? That has to deal with these abnormalities to keep this body going.”

A boiling force emerged from you. Pressing your forehead into his, that blazing passion you held for him burned through. 

“Stop that! You have to take extra stuff to help your body keep flowing, but guess what? Some may need more accommodations than others, but that’s okay. It doesn’t make you any less important or valuable. So, one nice thing! One!”

Miguel was taken aback by your firmness and robust determination. But yet, it was oddly nice to have someone have that drive for him.

“I would like for them to have… my enhanced hearing or sight, or my speeds.”

“Ooh, sight. You do have beautiful eyes. But don't talk down on yourself, or else I’ll kiss you until you conform.”

“It sounds more like a reward than a punishment.” He brushed your hair with his palm.

“It can be a mixture.” You snickered, “But know that you are allowed to show yourself a bit of compassion. I would lie and say I don’t struggle with showing it to myself, but I don’t want to expose myself too much.” You stuck your tongue out.

“You will be a good mom.” Miguel caressed your cheek, making you flustered.

“Uh, uh, your turn.”

“You still have to answer the physical and mental question." A smirk creased the left side of his face.

“My knowledge of random trivia and, um, whatever looks good on me!” You swatted him, wanting to change the subject.

“Your smile.” 

Your breath hitched as you tried to hold back that squeal. “Yo-your turn!” You croaked out.

His smirk got even wider.

“Alright, what about baptism?”

“Baptism? I'll be fine with it, but any particular reason?”

“I just don't want my mama crawling out of her grave and beating me with her own casket if I don't. And I'm Irish as well, so I also don't want my ancestors pummeling me with their headstones either.”

A giggle slipped. “That's perfectly understandable.”

“And it's just the baptism part, not so much the ‘pray to the pope,’ Catholic ordeal. Well, only if they want to pray to that old man.”

“I like to think I'm spiritual, but I think I would've weirdly compromised with the religion.”

“Spiritual? Oh wow, I never would've guessed. Nope, none at all.” 

You gently nudged his chest a few times and blew a raspberry.

“¡Oye! You're the one who told me you don't mind a good sarcastic remark.” He entrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest.

You two begin to playfully wrestle, tussling back and forth for a minute, laughter ricocheting off the bedroom walls, until Miguel allows you to pin him down. Sucking in a good amount of air, you both become entranced by one another's gaze.

“How are you feeling?” You glide your hand down the outline of his jawline, feeling the scratchiness from his stubble.

“Now, or in general?” Miguel lulled at your touch.

“Both.”

“Now? I feel content, a sentiment I'm rarely allowed. In general? I don't know. I always think I know what's going on, whether it's inside or all around. That I have everything under control. But now... now I can't say what direction to face.”

“One thing I learned about life is that it can lead you down many paths. You may never know where it can take you. The one you may trail could suddenly take a left, then a sharp right.”

You pecked his cheek and yawned out, nuzzling the top of your head in the crook of his neck. “Life is a funny thing. Some see it as set in stone, but I believe it's not. You can't really put a timestamp on it. Maybe you can change your outcomes, and that itself can lead you down other routes you didn't even think were possible. You can always plan for it, but that doesn't mean it will always fall through.”

There was a hitch in his breath. A sullen uneasiness rushed him internally as his mind jumbled, screeching to him about what he witnessed and about the canon.

But he decided to ignore it.

One day, he would talk to you about the canon and how the timelines work. Yet for now, he was engaging in this itch. The longing and desire for your presence.

The time will unveil itself in all of its glory. But it can wait.

“Mi Estrella?” Your words slurred a bit as you fought to stay awake.

“Oh, sorry, mi Luna, I'm taking in the wisdom you've imparted onto me. I wish I had that type of smarts.”

“Shush. With that enormous brain, you probably have a bazillion amounts of sagacity running through that you may never even know of.”

An exhale of a chortle puffed out from his mouth and nose. “There are so many I'm unaware of. I should probably start looking into that.”

“You definitely should.”

Tranquility befallen them. He loves this. This serenity.

“I just realized something.”

“And what's that, mi Luna?”

“At the botanical garden, you said daisies represent new beginnings.”

“Mhm?”

“And that the moon is also the start of something new. Miguel, did you do that on purpose? Are you saying I'm a new beginning to something?”

Miguel leaned his head down and kissed the crown of your hair.

“Eres el nuevo paso hacia algo que hace mucho que no puedo dar. Gracias, mi Luna. Gracias por todo.”

You couldn't decipher the first half but were able to translate the last.

Thank you. Thank you for everything.

You didn't fully understand why he was thanking you, but you didn't stall on it much longer than you felt like you needed to.

“I... I love you, mi Estrella.” You snuggled up even more somehow, dozing off on his chest, your soft snores flowing in his ears.

Miguel's heart nearly exploded out of his chest.

Did you mean to say that? Surely you didn't as it was probably the drowsiness that crept up talking for you.

Surely you couldn't love him.

So why did he trust and believe those three simple words?

“Mi Luna, mi corazón. Mi tierra, mi cielo, mi universo. Thank you.”

The flames continue to inflame the singular candlestick in the dusky space.

His head is able to slightly raise. Something he wasn't able to do. There, he gets a glimpse. A glimpse of something peculiar; however, it's still shrouded in the bleak void.

What is the flame wanting to show?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@prozacgooble @ella-janehaven @sanguwuxyoonbummy

[forever-will-last]

Hey! I missed seeing an “A thousand pictures in my mind” update this weekend! (Not meant to be a pressure to update thing just an I was thinking of you thing) I hope you’ve had a great week! I look forward to all the great Cadina Week stuff you’ve been working on!

I'm missing the updates too!! Originally my plan was to upload a chapter or two of a thousand pics while continuing to work on my cadina week stuff but um... As we all know, I cannot be concise. Like, physically impossible. So my cadina week work has led to a MUCH bigger undertaking than I originally imagined LOL

In compensation for the lack of thousand pics updates, here's a list of which prompts I'm doing, and if they have a specific AU associated with them :)

1. Jealousy - thousand pics au

2. College - no specific au

3. Bed Sharing - psych ward au

4. Fluff - thousand pics au

5. Hurt/Comfort - thousand pics au (but an au of the au. Non canon to the actual thousand pics, unlike the other ones)

6. AU - a brand new au that I'm EXTREMELY excited about and I think everyone is going to eat the fuck up. This beast is already around 45k words and is currently sitting at 2 chapters. Oops!

7 Free Day - thousand pics au but my exact plan on this may change

I've finished 3, am partway through 1 & 5, and well, 6, but I continue to chip away at that over time. I'm probably still going to be working on 6 right up until it gets released... I won't spoil more about what it is, exactly, because i want it to be a surprise, but my friends who I've sent previews to have gone absolutely FERAL for it, so... Get EXCITED!

[rollercoasterwords]

What’s ur plan with This Rotten Work? it’s not listed on ur pinned fics n it’s still up on ao3 lol i was js wondering bc it’s a cool concept n i’d love to read it but don’t feel pressured u js made my fav fanfic ever so i’m probably js a lil starved of ur writing ! but either way i’ll still love. u if u decide do drop it or carry on writing? r u writing anything at all i read aftermath it was sooooo good ur gen so talented it’s amazing

hello ahhh ty!! short answer is yes i'm still planning to write this rotten work i am actually like...70%? done w the second ch and might try to just finish it up this weekend long answer is. under the cut lol

ok so when i first started trw it was my only other wip and i thought i'd just go straight into writing it after i finished thtf, but then i started writing some other shorter wips as i was writing thtf, and i was like oh maybe i'll finish these first and THEN start focusing on trw. and then after i finished thtf i mainly just wanted to write everything else i had connected to that story in my head, hence aftermath + thtb.

and THEN i was like ok im gonna finish this dorlene beauty + the beast wip bc it'll be shorter and easier and THEN i'll write trw, but i hit a writer's block w that wip like....2 weeks ago and just wasn't really feeling it, and then i watched the walking dead finale and my brain shifted from fairytale mode back into zombie mode so i started writing ch 2 of trw. but THEN this week i sort of uh. well. i succumbed to the cowboy brainrot and now i am. writing a jegulus cowboy au which i am also planning to make like. short-ish? like 4 chs and 20k words is the plan rn.

ANYWAY so now. currently. my plan is:

- try to finish ch 2 of trw this weekend just bc i'm so close to being done, and i'll probably post it before it's been beta-read just bc i feel bad that i’ve left it hanging so long lol

- write the jegulus cowboy au in dec ?? i think i'll probably try and write the whole thing before i start posting chs but who knows

- go back to writing trw as like....longer ongoing project after that and just jump between the beauty + the beast au and trw depending on what mood i'm in

i also have a pandalily time war au haunting me so. if that comes and takes me by the throat trw could end up getting written even slower lol.

anyway! that's where i'm at rn but obviously everything is very subject to change, i've really just been taking writing really slow over november to try and avoid burnout after thtf, so i've just been chipping away at whatever i felt like on any given day. i've been wanting to write more lately tho so i feel like i might be ready to dip my toes back into a longer project, which would be trw :) but it'll probably just be me writing and posting chs slowly without any regular schedule for the next few months as i focus on finishing some of these shorter wips just to like. clear out space in my brain 🤠

[yanderes-galore]

Hi! Can I request a scenario for TMNT 2012’s Rahzar with a darling who is a close friend of the turtles? I hope you have a good day/night!

Thank you! I hope your day/night is fantastic as well!

Insider's Knowledge

Yandere! Rahzar Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Manipulation, Threats, Kidnapping, Obsession, OOC Rahzar (?)

To Rahzar, you were a high value target. One he had been hunting down for awhile now. He was fully capable of capturing you but for now he was drawing this out.

Due to the fact you were so close with the turtles Rahzar knew he could use you for information, or at the very least a bargaining chip. It would certainly make his master proud. Although... he watched you longer just to make sure you actually had information.

Atleast that's what the mutated beast kept telling himself and others. It would be a pain to take in the wrong person, right? Maybe he had other reasons of putting off your interrogation....

Such as, personal interest. Luckily he was silent enough you never spotted him. Yet he followed your scent whenever he picked up on it.

He'd perch himself on rooftops, watching you carefully. He picked up every little word and thing you did thanks to his enhanced senses. Something about watching you while you were so blissfully unaware made him grin.

He'd never let the others know. He disguised this little hobby of his as spy work. When in reality he was just so absorbed in your daily life.

It was a strange obsession that you'd think got in the way of his work. However, instead, it actually lined up pretty well. At some point he'd have to take you in for information.

Which is also a nice excuse to take you away from those turtles.

Once the time came he made sure he was gentle when capturing you. You had basic self defense skills but it was nothing compared to him. He had also been studying you for the past few weeks, you had no chance.

By the time you came to you're tied up in an abandoned warehouse with nowhere to go. In front of you stands a tall skeletal mutant, eyes never leaving your figure. For now, he was alone.

But he could always call in back up.

"Start talking." He growls, making his way towards you. "What do you know about the turtles?"

You look at him with fearful eyes but say nothing. Rahzar applauds your loyalty, yet he feels it's misplaced. Deep down he's quite envious you trust those turtles so much.

It's not like you met before this anyway, though.

"What do you mean!? I know nothing!"

"Do you really think you can lie your way out of this?

Rahzar leans closer, growling at you. He smelt and looked like death. You wished the turtles would come and help soon....

"I've been keeping my eye on you for a long time now. I know you have the information I seek. I need anything you know."

"Will I be let go if I tell you?"

Rahzar only stares at you, orange eyes looking you over. Would he let you go after all the stalking? Would he just let you out of here without a second thought?

"...No."

"What?"

"I don't need you for just that information. I have other uses for you."

By now you couldn't tell if you felt fear, anger, or sadness. Anguish was a better word for it. You knew Rahzar was strong through the turtles, if you angered him there was no telling you'd live.

"I'm keeping you here. Once you turn against those turtles you'll be put to good use. Shredder will be quite pleased to have a spy."

"Shredder!?"

Rahzar watches you panic in your restraints. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes at the thought of meeting his master. Poor thing... scared like a mouse in front of a cat.

"Things will go smoothly if you just listen to me. I'll do my best not to hurt you."

Claws trace down you in a strangely affectionate way. It was enough to catch you off guard. Such a terrifying beast being gentle with a hostage?

He has ulterior motives... he has to!

"Get to talking, we don't have all day."

Rahzar grins again, digging his claws in slightly. Not enough to make you bleed, but enough to be uncomfortable. He seemed deep in thought.

"Although, I don't mind keeping you here with me for awhile if you really want to fight me."

He'd never admit it to anyone, but perhaps he really has taken a liking to you.

[regrettablewritings]

Y'know what. Since you have another ship meme going and since I've been having a shitty week could I get something for Benoit Blanc or Dewey Finn (Author's Choice!)

Y’know what. Since you’re having a shitty week and because you’re literally the only one humoring me with this ask meme right now, I’m choosing both! First, Benoit . . .

Who the fuck put the peeps in the microwave?: Neither of the two of you is particularly prone to such . . . juvenile behavior. That, and you both like to think of yourselves as above eating Peeps. . . . That being said, it’s Benoit. A rather buzzed Benoit, but Benoit Blanc nonetheless. It’s actually rather rare that Benny gets drunk, given that he not only paces himself but can also handle his alcohol relatively well. So on the blue moon that it happens (and you yourself are sober at that), you like to have a little fun with him, making him do funny little things like indulging in convenience store snacks he usually poses himself as beyond noshing on and such. Apparently in his inebriated state, the post-Easter sale Peeps wound up amongst his purchases and, hey, it was a night before your day off and you didn’t mind cleaning up the mess . . . “. . . Hey, Benny: Have you ever been one to turn down a dare?”

Who forgot to put the cat outside during sex?: Neither. It’s nearly happened that the two of you got so into the moment of making out that you forgot that Duke was a mere few feet away, giving you that disapproving look only a beast of his nature could give. But ultimately, one member of the party remembers in time before you expose your poor fur baby to anything. That, and Duke is smart enough to know when he doesn’t want to witness something and is more than capable of seeing himself out and into a place where he won’t be able to hear all that transpires.

Posts Vines/TikToks of the other doing embarrassing shit: Neither. Benoit doesn’t understand technology, and you don’t want to post anything that may put his reputation on the line, no matter how seemingly innocuous.

Breaks the most phones: You do. It’s not that you even do anything particularly rambunctious enough to make you a phone-killer, either, it’s just that technology seems to hate you enough to make you a phone widow/er twice.

Who dies first?: Well . . . If we go by natural causes, it would have to be Benoit. He knows he’s no spring chicken, and that smoking habit of his (no matter how tame) was never going to help anything beyond calming his nerves and giving him something to do while thinking. And as much as the idea of leaving you behind hurts, he would still rather go before your young life ends. He would want you to take care of yourself better than he took care of himself . . .

Which one I could see as being lactose intolerant: You. Benoit’s stomach might’ve become a bit more delicate with age, but that doesn’t necessarily make him lactose intolerant. That, and in the sorta universe I made, I picture Benoit’s s/o as being on the spectrum and sometimes what comes with that are digestion issues. But even if you don’t wanna follow that -- Sometimes life just sucks and eating a spoonful of ice cream means an equivalent exchange of two hours on the crapper, angrily shitting while curled over and telling Benoit you regret nothing while he awkwardly stands outside the bathroom, trying to gently coax you into not continuing this destructive tendency of yours. (“I can assure you, mint-chocolate chip just isn’t worth the pain!” “I WANT TO FEEL FRESH INSIDE!!” “IS THAT WHY YOU’RE ROTTING OUT!?”) It is what it is.

Who thinks they can do something really well even though they can’t?: Benoit is an extrovert. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily the greatest with people. Granted, I think he’s aware of how often people want to punch him in the teeth to some degree and even derives some amusement from it. But I’m not about to say he thinks he’s some supreme chef or operatic virtuoso or what have you because he is very aware that he is neither of those things and has made peace with that. I imagine he makes an effort to be very affectionate as well, but isn’t necessarily prime at it, either, though I’m more than certain he’d be aware of his limitations in that field as well.

Who is more likely to get kicked out of bed?: Benoit, all the way. You love him dearly but the man just cannot compartmentalize. His brain is always running, always analyzing and reanalyzing and checking theories and so on -- which is good, as it is a part of his job. But that can be really grating when he’s doing so at the end of the night, muttering things at 2am when you have to go to work in the morning and just want at least five hours of sleep under your belt. It’s especially worse if he’s sitting up fidgeting over something that’s not even a case -- it’s a freaking decades-old episode of Murder, She Wrote that had a conclusion that made nary a lick of sense to him but he’d be damned if he couldn’t find a way to make it work in his own mind! The good news is that Benoit is usually enough of an aware gentleman to notice when you’re about to be the next headline for suffocating him with your pillow; he’ll apologize and excuse himself from the bedroom and spend the rest of the night in the living room, pacing, looking over files, etc. Usually, mornings after these sorts of nights are met with an apology breakfast of slightly burnt bacon, eggs, and toast.

Who uses the computer the most?: You both do for your respective occupations, especially if you want to be technical and point out that Benoit’s smart phone qualifies as a computer (which it does). Granted, Benoit’s job requires him to be a bit more in the moment, and he personally prefers tangible articles and files to look at if it can be helped, so you may technically be in the lead, but only partially so.

Thank you for asking! Hope the week comes out better!!

[flowercrown-bucky]

The Secrets We Hide

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Loki has a secret. A big secret. When Thor needs his help finding Odin, his secret may be exposed.

Authors’ Note: My very favourite reader of my Loki series, Lavender Blue, asked for some more Thor, and whilst thinking about it I got a little carried away

Also Y/N has a last name in this that might make sense if you get to the end oop

If you’re waiting for the next part of Lavender Blue I fucking SUCK at writing smut someone help me-

"Where are we going, brother?" Thor looked curiously at Loki.

He'd been to Britain a handful of times in his life.

The very first had been sometime during what would later become colloquially know as the dark ages, in the early sixth century, he was inclined to believe. Earth, he had found, was wholly unremarkable, if England was anything to go by.

It was on this occasion that he had learned of his brother's magical talents, travelling on horseback through the countryside. He'd stumbled onto a (Remarkably small, he noticed) kingdom, ruled over by a gentleman by the name of Arthur. The real shock, however, had come to him upon entering the banquet hall in his host's castle, only to find his younger brother - who was, needless to say, not pleased to see him - sat next to his host. The lengths he'd gone to disguise himself were commendable, and the beard he'd magicked up was impressive, but there was no mistaking the mischievous twinkle in the eyes of Loki of Asgard.

However, the England Thor found himself in now was a far cry from the country of his memory. Winchester, he had been informed, was where the bifrost had brought them, but the cobbled streets he was walking on were about as unfamiliar to him as unicorn land.

Loki, however, definitely knew where he was. He had clearly been here many times before.

He'd replied to his brother's questioning with a disparaging look, continuing to walk on. All Thor knew about where they were going is that it had something to do with where Loki had placed their father three years ago. As for his personal theories? His mind was drawing a blank.

Eventually, Loki came to a stop in front of a single house within a terrace. A tall, unremarkable house, by all means, built with honey-coloured sandstone, the paint on the windows flaking with age, several panes baring the circular marks of a pontil. Three tall steps led to the front door, and the view of the living room through large window next to it allowing some insight as to the nature of its inhabitant.

Through the hazy glass, Thor could see a remarkably cluttered, disorganised room. A large leather armchair sat in the corner of the room, worn from use and decorated by a patchwork quilt. A similar rug lay on the wooden floor, a tapestry of fabric scraps. Opposite the TV was a grey cord sofa, upon which a number of odd and brightly coloured socks were strewn.

It was fairly safe to assume, Thor reckoned, that the inhabitant of this house - who was currently upstairs, based on the light coming through the window - was not his father.

So what the hell were they doing here?

Loki's three short raps of the knocker elicited a response from the house's inhabitant. They could hear them scurrying down the stairs and towards the door, and fumbling with the lock before opening it.

The woman on the other side was not what he was expecting.

The arrival of your visitors had come as somewhat of a shock to you, that much was apparent from your face. The second thing Thor noticed, was that you clearly knew Loki.

Your hair, slightly damp from the shower, was pulled up on top of your head, secured by a scrunchie, the deep green shade of which complimented your eyes. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a red woollen jumper, your feet bare save for a silver ring around the second toe on your left foot and chipped nail polish on your toenails.

The third thing Thor noticed about you, was that you were very pretty.

"Father?" His voice came out as a squeak.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother laughing.

"Your father I most certainly am not." Your right eyebrow quirked bemusedly, crossing your arms. "But this is a surprise."

"Sorry, I must've forgotten to mention it." Loki grinned at you. "Can we come in?"

You stepped aside, beckoning the brothers through the door and into your home. You shot Loki a pointed look as he entered, prompting him to roll his eyes and, begrudgingly, remove his shoes and place them neatly by the door. In the interest of remaining polite, Thor followed suit.

"I take it this is not a social visit?" You asked, leading them into your kitchen.

The kitchen, Thor noticed, was nice. Homely. Small, but still, homely. The stone floor was cool under his socked feet, although his left being slightly warmer than the right led him to suspect your floor was central-heated, and the aga opposite him would probably heat the entire house. The beams supporting the ceiling were low enough that he'd hit his head twice, although he had noticed Loki had ducked, his posture automatically slouched so as to avoid collision.

Loki had clearly spent a lot of time in this house, in this kitchen.

You hopped up onto the counter, crossing your legs at the knee.

"Perceptive as ever, I see." Loki chuckled. "Although, my manners seem to have momentarily lost me. Y/N, this is my brother, Thor. Thor, this is Y/N Hudson. She's.... She's a friend of mine."

Thor did not miss the curious glance you shot at his brother.

"As delighted as I am to see you, Loki," You rolled your eyes. "What do you want?"

"It would seem that my dear brother has managed to lose our father." Thor glared at the dark haired man.

"I would dearly love to know how exactly one goes about losing one's father." Your lips quirked into an amused smile.

"And you're the only living being on this dull little planet who's capable of finding him." Loki ignored your attempt at riling him, catching your gaze.

"I don't understand." Thor furrowed his brow. "What are you, a witch? Do you have some sort of tracking abilities?"

"No, she's just very intelligent." Loki corrected. "Would you give Y/N and I a moment alone, brother mine?"

Thor nodded gruffly, watching you hop off the counter and walk out of the kitchen, into the room he'd first seen through the window.

He did not miss how his brother bit his lip as he looked you up and down.

Your front room was Loki's favourite place on Midgard.

It might even be his favourite place in the nine realms.

It had quickly become his bolt-hole, his safe place. It was the first place he'd ever been shown true kindness, where you'd brought him after you found him in a back alley, dying and alone. It was where you'd laid him on the sofa, where he'd been tucked under a blanket for the first time, where he'd drunk his first ever cup of midgardian tea. It was where you'd allowed him, a complete stranger, to rest and heal.

It was where he'd returned to pester this annoying, intriguing little human being, a process within which he discovered you were possibly less annoying and entirely more intriguing than he'd initially assumed.

He trailed his fingers across the back of your sofa absent mindedly, staring at the rings on your coffee table. You had a habit of leaving half-drunk, cold cups of coffee on this table - hence, the rings - something that irked him to no end.

The long hairs on the cushion caught his eye, and he wondered where the furry little beast might be hiding. Your cat, Kenneth, did not like Loki, a sentiment he wholeheartedly reciprocated. If you weren't so fond of it, he would more than happily fling the little monster into some unreachable pocket of a distant dimension.

His eyes reached where you'd perched on the arm of your armchair, one leg stretched out in front of you. He allowed his gaze to lazily climb the length of your body, taking all of you in.

Gods, did he love your legs.

"I've missed you, darling." He grinned up at you.

"I've not seen you for two weeks, Loki." Your voice was slow, deliberate. "And you come to me now, because you need me?"

He bit his lip, you had him there. He never was quite sure how to gauge your emotions, never sure how you’d react. Everything you did was carefully considered.

Even after all this time with you, you were still something of an enigma to him. It was one of the things that had initially drawn him to you, one of the things that he loved about you.

"On the contrary, my sweet." His voice had dropped, so much so that he was almost purring. "I always need you."

"Don't you try to charm me, silvertongue." You raised one finger in front of you, pointing it at him; a warning.

"Is it working?" He raised one eyebrow at you as he spoke.

"I'll let you know." You grumbled.

A soft chuckle left his lips, crossing the distance between you in two strides, dropping to his knees before your outstretched legs. He glanced up at you inquisitively, a massive grin stretching across his face at your nod of confirmation.

Gently, he lifted his hands up so his fingertips pressed at your stomach, at the little gap of skin between the bottom of your jumper and the waistband of your jeans. His fingers slid gently under your jumper, taking the woolen garment with it until his palms were flat against your stomach.

"Hey, little one." He cooed. "I can't believe how tiny you are. I can barely see you."

You laughed quietly, bringing your hand down to rest on top of his much larger one. He kissed the soft skin of your slightly swollen belly, and the intimacy of the small gesture made your heart swell with love and affection for both him and the child growing inside you.

"I wonder if they'll be blue." You mused, running your fingers through the ends of his hair.

"Why, in the name of all things unholy," He looked up from his ministrations. "Would it be blue?"

"Because, you're, well, you know..." You waved your hands expressively. "Nevermind. I had a scan a few days ago, do you want to see?"

You fished in your back pocket, pulling out a small folded piece of paper.

Desperation was not something Thor was used to.

However, in that moment, it was exactly what he as feeling.

He'd crossed his legs, he'd shifted his weight from leg to leg uncomfortably. But however hard he tried, he just could not shift the feeling. He needed to go to the toilet, and he needed to go to the toilet badly.

As the age-old saying went, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

He'd uncomfortably wandered towards where he'd seen you and his brother wander off to.

What he was not expecting to see, was Loki knelt between your legs.

His hands flew up to his face, shielding his view. He'd seen this before, and it scarred him for life.

What even had he seen? 

His brother, kneeling between the legs of a mortal woman. Your jeans, he noted, were entirely done up.

Loki was kissing your stomach, caressing it, a dark piece of paper clutched in his other hand.

"Your daddy loves you so, so much," His brother had whispered to your stomach. "But don't give your mummy too much grief, ok?"

Words escaped Thor.

This woman Loki had brought him to, was pregnant. With Loki's child.

He cleared his throat, startling both you and his brother. Loki scrambled to his feet, anxious about being caught in such an intimate moment with you.

"I needed the toilet." Thor's voice came out in a much higher pitch than his intention.

"On your left."  Loki's voice was barely a croak, his voice hoarse.

"I'm okay," His voice came out in a more nervous way than he was expecting. "Congratulations are in order, I think?"

"Yes." Loki's voice was gruff, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Thank you, brother."

"Thank you, Thor." You smiled warmly at the god.

"Anyway," Loki was evidently in a hurry to change the subject. "Do you know where the Allfather is?"

"He's in Norway. That's all I know. He's hidden himself well." You rubbed your chin thoughtfully. "But I do know a man who might be able to tell you more."

Loki's lips curled into a satisfied grin.

Thor's state of confusion remained long after they left your house. He was, as the mortals would say, totally gobsmacked.

Unable to provide the location of Odin, you'd handed Loki a neatly folded piece of paper. As far as Thor knew, his brother had not yet opened it.

Loki had kissed you passionately before he left, an uncharacteristic display of affection and one that made Thor deeply uncomfortable. He'd cleared his throat in a pitiful attempt to stifle a laugh, met only by his brother's middle finger in his face.

Rude.

He glanced at his brother as they walked. He'd not said a word since they’d left, but his hair was mussed from your fingers and his cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“I’m shocked.” He mused. “A woman - an attractive woman - likes you.”

“Harsh.” Loki frowned. “And she didn’t, at first. Like me, that is.”

“Smart woman.” He chuckled, eliciting a punch from the taller of the two.

In his many, many years of existence, he would never have guessed that Loki would be the first of the two of them to become a dad. He never would’ve even imagined his brother as a father in his wildest dreams.

In all honesty, he had never imagined a woman taking Loki as her lover.

He shuddered at the mental image. Yeugh.

“Congratulations, I guess.” A sudden fondness overwhelmed him. “Dad.”

“They are everything to me.” Loki’s voice was clear, concise in a way he had never before heard from his mischievous brother - he was, after all, the God of Lies. “I would gladly give my life to save theirs. I’d give yours, for that matter.”

“Your sentiment is touching.” He grunted. “Anyway, where are we even going, brother?”

He turned to his suit-clad little brother, watching him withdraw the piece of folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it carefully, revealing your delicate, printed writing.

S. Holmes

221B, Baker Street, London.