#I love you Boston cream donut

[oncetherenowhere]

Finally downloaded SWTOR today. It only just finished, so I haven't done anything yet, but I'm excited! I figured this was the next step, now that I'm in my KOTOR era.

I've been in a post-KOTOR 2 RPG for almost a year now, with some of H's friends. It's part of why I've been replaying the game recently, I just love the Old Republic time period. Stuff has really been popping off, and it gets me jazzed to have a good narrative going. More than that...when I first started this blog, one of my biggest problems was loneliness. I feel, recently, like I've been getting a little closer to the people around me. Work has still had its...issues, but I still adore my primary coworker, and the temp summer crew is fantastic. I'm starting to be comfortable with the RPG crew, and we want to start doing other hang outs and stuff too, which makes me a little excited. I'm still nervous when it comes to interacting with people, but I think things are getting better.

It's my birthday tomorrow. H and I are visiting my grandparents in my home city. I can't state this enough, I really dislike going back to my home city, but I think it'll end up being fine. I've got a cute outfit picked out. I never dress up these days, so I think that'll be nice.

Then, when we get back on Saturday, I plan on spending the day getting stoned out of my gourd and writing.

Side note...I can't describe how many Boston cream donuts I've eaten throughout the course of my life. SO many. And you know what? Something about the Dunkin Boston cream continues to entrance me above all others. Is it the best? No. I've had donuts of far better quality. But man, it's still my favorite.

[reginageorgesgirlfriend3020]

Paige Bueckers x short girlfriend headcannons (Part 11)

Paige Rubbed her shoulder. “For such a short girl you can throw a mean PUNCH”. She said

“I took self defense classes and kick boxing and boxing classes”. You said.

”And that’s the shoulder I shoot the basketball with too! Ahhh my shoulder”. Paige said.

”Good. Maybe you’ll misss a few shots and not make fun of my height now more”. You said.

”I’m sorry babe”. Said Paige. She went to hug you. You stopped her. “Nope. You won’t get off that easily”. You said

“I gotta sleep on the couch don’t I?” Paige asked.

”Yes”. You said.

Paige sighed. “Fine”.

You love to climb on Paige. She’s so tall you climb on her like a tree.

You try to stand on her head but you stand on her shoulders. Position yourself like a wrestler and jump in the pool

She teases you about how you still use a floatie and goggles.

Paige laughed. “You look so cute yet funny in a floatie. Can you reach the floor in the pool in that floatie?” She said. Ugh she can be a bully

You glared at her. “Want me to punch you again in that same shoulder?” You asked

“No”. Paige said in a low voice. “Sorry babe”.

At Dunkin’ Donuts you can hardly see the donuts. “I want two”. You said

“Which ones?” Paige asked

“Boston Cream. And glazed chocolate”. You said

You and Paige sat down at a table. “I still can’t believe I kicked you as hard as I did”. You said.

”I can’t believe you said you’d leave me for Azzi”. Said Paige

And Azzi sent you. Text.

From Azzi: Miss you. Miss having you in my arms.

You read the text

“Who’s that?” Paige asked

“Azzi”.

”Oh. What did she want?” Paige asked

“Nothing” you said

Paige was suspicious. But she decided to drop it. ‘Would she really love me for my best friend?’ Paige thought to herself

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

---------------------------

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

--------------------------

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

-------------------------

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

-----------------------------

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cause of Action 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Your first week is tame. Boring, even. Your desk mates are quiet and cold. They barely even talk to each other. You suppose they have a lot of work to do, a lot more serious work than you. Your own tasks are rather tedious but menial nonetheless.

You find your sight blurring as you scroll through a case brief. You have your elbow on your desk, cupping your chin at your mindless perusal. The subtle click of the mechanism slips through your trance but doesn’t quite register. It isn’t until a dark shape stands in your peripheral that you finally break your near-comatose state.

“Mr. Barber,” you greet, barely able to conceal your surprise, “hi.”

“Just checking in,” he says as he rests his hand on the cubicle wall, “and I had a favour to ask you.”

“Uh, sure,” you keep your hand on your mouse, tapping the wheel nervously.

“Think you could start late tomorrow? You’ll see in the calendar there’s a late meeting and I won’t be in until noon anyway,” he explains, his free hand hooks on his belt. He does that, he stands like a disapproving dad and it makes your bones rattle.

“Right, uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Great,” he smacks the cubicle wall and it shakes just a little, “you grab a donut from the break room?”

“Donut?” You pique at the mention of sugar, “oh, well… I’m tryna cut back.”

“That’s too bad. I got ‘em from this place about a block down. They’re great. I love the boston creams but the crullers aren’t bad either.”

“Hmmm, maybe at lunch,” you shrug, “thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“No problem, just a little pick me up for the office,” he looks around as the office drones continue on without acknowledgement. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Alright,” you smile and swivel back to your screen.

He lingers for a moment before he strides off. You glance over as he enters the break room. The smell of coffee soon stirs in the air and makes your stomach grumble.

“Eh, could use another cup,” Marnie sighs but makes no move to fulfill her wishes.

You ponder a second coffee but think better of it. Caffeine usually has you addled and you’re already restless sitting around at a computer. You refocus on the case brief as Mr. Barber’s shadow approaches the door.

It’s strange. He seems so nice but the rest of this place is so miserable. Well, it is work.

📓

The late start to your day throws everything off. By the time you get to the office, you’re exhausted already. You couldn’t sleep in despite your efforts so much of your morning was spent in anticipation of starting work.

As you get to work Marnie is on her lunch and Taylor is huffing at his phone screen. He tends to be on that more than his computer. Mr. Barber greets you in passing as he appears with a cup of coffee. He retreats to his office as you settle in at your desk. There’s a small container waiting for you with a note.

‘Hope it’s not stale.’

You flick the post-it and tilt the container to see through the clear plastic. A donut dressed up with graham crumble and what appears to be strawberry jam. It looks delicious and dangerously high in calories. Still, a nice gesture. You would feel bad to reject it.

You get started, the day dragging by as usual. You pick away at the donut, trying hard not to get any crumbs or gooeyness on your keyboard. You get a few messages from Mr. Barber about new tasks but he’s mostly cloistered in his office, explaining that he’s on calls all day.

Marnie packs up first, then Taylor. Once they’re gone, the office takes on an eerie hue with the dimming sky outside. The tinted yellow bulbs do little to ease the ambiance. You clack on keys ambivalently, all caught up and anxious.

The door clicks and you spin to face your boss. You have no chill left.

“Oh, hi,” he buttons his jacket, “uh, you ready?”

“Ready? I thought the meeting was here?”

“No, uh, my client changed his plans,” he checks his watch, “you’ll get overtime for the extra hours.”

“Um, alright,” you stand up and stretch out your legs. Mr. Barber nears as you grab your purse and swipe up your phone from the top of your desk. “That’s fine, I guess.”

“Sorry, I know it’s weird hours but the guy’s not exactly a negotiator. Hence why he hired me.”

“No problem. I signed up for it, right?”

“I like that attitude,” he grins, “so, you like the donut?”

He peeks over at the empty container forgotten beside your monitor. You push your shoulders up and bite the inside of your lip.

“Yeah, very sweet,” you say, “thanks.”

“I’ve never had the strawberry so I’ll take your word for it,” he gestures you ahead of him towards the door, “better get going.”

“Sure.”

You lead the way and he locks the door behind him. He follows you down the narrow stairs as you cling to the banister. Your heels make the descent treacherous.

As you come out under the greying sky, Andy exhales heavily and checks his watch again. “I’ll drive.”

“Oh, uh, thanks, Mr. Barber,” you utter. You assumed it might have been just down the block. The mystery of it all is frustrating. You should’ve checked the calendar.

“Andy’s fine,” he corrects, “for tonight. Oh and a bit of advice, you don’t have to put up with my client. He says anything untoward, you let me know.”

He guides you down to a dark car parked by a meter. You near the passenger’s side and watch him come up the other.

“Should I be worried?” You ask.

“No, but he can be… direct.”

“Ah, right,” you nod, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Nice girl like you, I’m sure it will be,” he agrees as the locks slide back noisily.

He opens his door and sits in the driver’s seat. You get in and buckle up as he checks his mirrors and fiddles with a few switches. He seems almost more anxious than you.

“I won’t feel so out of place with you around,” he remarks as he puts his signal on and looks over his shoulder.

“Oh?”

“You’ll see,” he girds as he pulls out.

You wish he would just tell you where you’re going but you’re too embarrassed to ask. If he knew you didn’t even bother to check the calendar, it might not look so good on you. And you need him to give you a glowing reference. You can’t have the only experience on your resume be tainted by your own carelessness.

[stoshasaurus]

right. I need to add some fucking context to this.

My current pfp in one of my discord servers is one of my recent drawings of Felwinter. I was talking about my desire to go out and get donuts this morning, particularly a banana Bismarck (basically a banana-flavored Boston cream donut, if you asked me to sum it up) from this local donut shop. I expressed that I enjoy having characters as my pfp because I imagine that they are saying my words, and it made me wonder how Felwinter would feel about donuts for breakfast, and banana bismarcks. I promised that once I had returned from my expedition to acquire said donuts, that I would write a short snippet about Felwinter eating a banana Bismarck.

So, here it is. An extremely silly, probably HIGHLY inaccurate mini-fic about Shaxx bringing Felwinter donuts for breakfast.

Disgustingly sweet (both literally and figuratively) Felshaxx fluff ahead.

Felwinter only finds himself sleeping in when he is visiting Shaxx. The Iron Lord never sleeps at all; he doesn’t need to, and there is always work to be done. He often finds himself quite busy in the evenings, scouring submind data or organizing lessons for his new student, activities that he obsesses over long after dusk, when any ordinary man would retire for the night. But endless work and looming threats be damned, Shaxx has an absurdly comfortable bed, with far too many pillows and a mattress so soft that Felwinter’s frame sinks immediately into it like a stone in a pond. He’d never known he needed a soft bed with a mountain of pillows. It has become one of the millions of little things he looks forward to when it comes to visiting his beloved in the Last Safe City of Humanity

His infrequent holiday stays in the City have been growing in length recently. In the past, he was lucky to have a single evening to himself to spend, a few scant hours spent being shown all of the spectacular things Shaxx detailed to him in his letters. Now, he is allotted more time, sometimes a week or more, once or twice a month. There was never any announcement made; Felwinter highly suspects that Radegast had been pestered into lessening the burdens of his duties by those few nosy Lords who had deciphered his unspoken relationship with Shaxx. Absolute wretches, all of them. He cannot complain.

He sleeps in more frequently now; Shaxx wakes earlier than him, often unable to step away from his post for longer than a few hours. But he never leaves without soft murmurs goodbye and a few kisses pressed to his face. Felspring teases him relentlessly when he finds himself brushing his hand over where Shaxx’s had been. He swats at her before dozing off for the next hour or so, Arc energy buzzing across his frame long after the Warlord has gone, soft flickers of static mimicking well-known, well-loved fingertips.

When he does finally wake up, it is to a still-empty house. If he makes a small noise of disappointment, he will never admit to it. He makes the bed, dresses himself, and opens the windows to let the sun and the air in, admiring the cityscape in the distance. It truly is as marvelous as Shaxx had made it out to be. A place where flowers bloom and birds sing, and Lightless people sleep without guns in their hands. Shaxx had entrusted Felwinter (and Felwinter alone. Oh, isn’t that a precious thought?) with a small, messy manuscript of hand-written poetry. Felwinter had smiled as Shaxx asked for his aid in revising it, hiding his apprehension in his hands as he wrung them, his feet as he shuffled them, his eyes as he averted them from his face. The very same manuscript lay on the kitchen counter, pockmarked with notes and bookmarks, the pages marked with fresh ink in the margins where Felwinter had endlessly praised Shaxx’s prose (in a much more legible script). Where words often failed the Iron Lord, his writing never did. He confessed his love through paragraphs of detailed interpretation and literary analysis. Poetry of his own.

Felwinter is in the process of writing more notes in the manuscript when Shaxx finally returns to the house. Felwinter turns to greet him– there is a tray of twin coffee cups in one hand and a small box cradled in the other, another bag tucked in his elbow.

Shaxx’s Ghost graciously removes the man’s helmet in time for him to press a kiss to his forehead. “Morning,” he rumbles as he deposits his goodies on the counter.

Felwinter absorbs the matching icons printed on the bag and the box. Some kind of bakery, evidently. He shuts the manuscript and sets it aside, taking one of the cups when Shaxx hands it to him. “Good morning,” he replies. “How goes the Crucible?”

“Astoundingly boring. I have no exciting clips to share.” The man sounds almost wounded. Felwinter curses whichever Guardian neglected to throw enough grenades to elicit excitement in the Crucible Handler. “The new Lights tend to try their luck during the summer months. I almost feel bad watching them get decimated by some of our veteran fireteams.”

“One would think the loss would motivate them to try harder.”

Shaxx laughs as he opens the box and examines its contents, out of Felwinter’s line of sight. “It does! That’s the thing about the newly Risen. They haven’t learned what quitting is yet.”

Felwinter does not protest when Shaxx plucks something out of the box and presses it insistently into his hand. It is a soft pastry, glazed with a sweet white frosting and sprinkled with what looks like chunks of cookies. Shaxx grabs an identical item out of the box, but his eyes are on Felwinter rather than the thing in his hand.

The Iron Lord puzzles over it, tilting it carefully so as not to spill the toppings, and stares at Shaxx. “What is this?”

“It’s a donut.” He shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s called a Bismarck. A banana Bismarck, to be exact.” He sounds overly proud of himself as he tilts his chin triumphantly. Felwinter huffs at the display.

Felspring hovers over his shoulder, studying the treat curiously. Felwinter wishes that she had a mouth so she could try it herself. In her stead, he slowly takes a bite, watching Shaxx mirror him with equal trepidation. He cranes his neck over the counter and cups his hand under the Bismarck, making sure no debris falls to the floor. The kitchen is flooded with an oddly pregnant silence as they chew thoughtfully in tandem with one another.

Felwinter signifies the end of his chewing and swallowing with “It’s good.”

“I concur,” Shaxx says. He is still chewing, and the words are muffled as he cleverly keeps his mouth as closed as possible. Crumbs speckle the corners of his lips. “Very sweet.”

“Obscenely,” he remarks. Shaxx barks a laugh.

Felwinter takes another bite. He feels like something, a loose screw, or a damaged cog, clicks back into place. He plucks a cookie off of the top of the thing and pops it into his mouth. It crunches loudly in the metal hollow of his mouth, and the sound drowns out every other thought in his head. Shaxx chuckles at him again, looking very strangely infatuated, and Felwinter cannot stop the lights that dot his chest and his neck from flickering in diffidence.

When his mouth dries up from consuming the pastry, Felwinter reaches for the coffee. It is strong, straight black just the way he likes it, and pleasantly hot rather than scalding. He drinks deeply and feels his plates thaw from the warmth of it, his mouth, his throat, his chest, and his stomach, each system absorbing it individually. The bitterness is a perfect complement to the sweetness of the Bismarck. Shaxx watches him overtly, an earnest tenderness visible in his eyes, unhurried anticipation visible in his open posture. Silently, he seeks appraisal.

“It’s very good,” Felwinter murmurs. All of the words he knows feel inadequate to describe his feelings, so he resorts to simplicity instead. “Thank you.”

Shaxx physically sags against the counter with what Felwinter assumes is relief. An uncharacteristically bashful grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

The Exo’s eyes sparkle with his version of a coy smile. “Do I not strike you as the type to enjoy banana-flavored sweets, Lord Shaxx?”

“No, Fel. Not at all.”

As if to prove him wrong, he takes another bite of the Bismarck. It is so sickeningly sweet that he is afraid it will somehow rot his metal mouth.

——

Playing Nice has ruined my fucking life. I’m so sorry.

[manicplank]

hi, i really like seeing your headcanons on my dash 👉👈 can we see hcs about what kind of sweets/desserts the pizza tower cast would like?

Tytyty!!!

Sweets!

Peppino: Not the biggest fan of sweets, but enjoys lighter things like cookies and cakes. Chocolate chip cookies are his favorite.

Gustavo: Loves cakes! Absolutely loves red velvet and banana cake!

Mr. Stick: Really likes pies. Any pie, really. But his all time favorite would be cherry pie.

Pepperman: Not too big on sweets. Probably enjoys yellow cake. Boring.

The Vigilante: You might think it's cheesecake, but that would be cannibalism!! No, he's a simple man and enjoys blueberry muffins!

The Noise: ALL. OF. THEM. He'll even eat carrot cake if it's sweet enough. His favorite is probably banana pudding, especially if there's vanilla wafers in it.

Noisette: She enjoys breads. Pumpkin bread and banana bread are her favorites! Especially with glaze. She also likes donuts of all kinds, Boston cream being her #1.

Fake Peppino: Yes! He will eat anything, even plain sugar! Although chewy caramel seems to be his absolute favorite.

Pizzahead: Loves pastries, especially cannolis! He also loves apple turnovers.

Pillar John: Hear me out. Chocolate covered bacon. Yes, that's a thing, and yes, it's delicious.

Gerome: Cinnamon rolls. He can't resist the smell. He sees them as a dessert item rather than a breakfast item.

[justforbooks]

Do you get childhood cravings? I get them all the time. There’s just something so comforting about indulging in special foods from the past. And for me, Boston Cream Donuts are an especially nostalgic treat! All that fluffy dough… stuffed with pale yellow cream, and topped with shiny rich chocolate glaze! What’s not to love⁉😋😋😋

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[ejzah]

A little post “The Debt” fic.

***

Forgive and Forget

I'm not angry. In fact, I could slit your jugular vein 11 different ways from where I'm sitting and I wouldn't lose my temper.

***

“One Boston cream and an iced coffee,” Deeks announces, sliding into Kensi’s SUV with the mentioned items in one hand, a second cup in the other.

Kensi accepts them with a wry smile, peering into the small paper bag and pulling out a perfectly iced donut.

“You know, you don’t have to keep sucking up,” she tells him.

“I wouldn’t call it sucking up.” He shrugs, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. “More like ‘trying to repair our relationship through a series of small but nonetheless meaningful gestures’.” He finishes with a winning smile. It’s damn hard to resist and she hates herself a little bit for how much she loves it.

“There’s nothing to repair. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“Then why do you keep hitting me?” he asks before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“What?” She forces a laugh. “No, I don’t.”

Ok, maybe she’d gotten a little out of control with taking her frustrations out in a physical way. It’s just so much easier than expressing herself verbally.

She’s not as furious as when she first found out that the entire team, including Deeks, had lied to her. It was humiliating to think they used her to sell Deeks shooting an unarmed man and then being dismissed from the team. They considered her a weak link and that stings.

More than anything, it hurts that Deeks kept it from her. She’d nearly spilled her heart to him over a lie.

“I can show you the bruises.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt as if to show her.

“Shut up, you’re fine.” Shifting uncomfortably, she offers a sheepish smile. “Maybe I could ease up a little.”

Instead of going for a joke, Deeks regards her with a soft, worried expression. “Are we going to be ok?” he asks.

She considers the question for a few moments. Ultimately the real question is whether or not she still trusts him.

“Yeah,” she answers finally. “We are.”

Deeks answering smile is slow and so genuine, Kensi’s heart clenches in response.

“Though a cheese danish on Friday will definitely help.”

“I can do that,” he says.

Yeah, they’ll be ok.

[rootedincuteness]

Resident Human: "Hey, Kizzle. I heard that you've been feeling a little down lately." Kizzle: "I suppose. I'm just not into all this flower and sunshine stuff. I love the leaves of Fall, Halloween, campfires, and crisp weather. Spring just isn't for me."

Resident Human: "I see. Well... I know what is for you. Chocolate!" Kizzle: "Oh, yes! I love chocolate!" Resident Human: "Wanna make some brownies?" Kizzle: "I would love to!"

Resident Human: "Okay, put your things over there so they don't get chocolate all over them." Kizzle: "Yes, good idea."

Resident Human: "Alright, everything we need is right here." Kizzle: "Ah, Hershey's... The good stuff!" Resident Human: "Yep! Triple chocolate, no less. These are going to be super fudgy." Kizzle: "I'm already drooling."

Kizzle: "It looks like someone melted a Boston cream donut." *giggles* Resident Human: "Haha, it kindof does."

Kizzle: "Are those lumps chocolate chips?" Resident Human: "Absolutely!" Kizzle: "Ohhh, I can't wait!"

Kizzle: "It smells so chocolatey..." Resident Human: "Well I should hope so." Kizzle: "This is so exciting!" *bounces* Resident Human: "Wow, you really do love chocolate."

Kizzle: "Time for the oven!"

Resident Human: "Ah, perfect. Warm brownie aroma is the best, isn't it?"

Kizzle: "It sure is! Mmm... crispy on the outside, fudgy on the inside. Just how I like 'em!"

Resident Human: "Feeling those blues getting chased away yet?" Kizzle: "I am. Thank you for cheering me up. Now, let's eat!"

[am--f]

Where to start. Sweep of September air from the door. Blinking cursor. What are you taking this semester? he asks. Sustainable sourcing, fair trade, organic. Java, mocha. Enamel on wood panel, 12 x 12 inches. From Kenya and Sumatra. Welcome to Fox Point. Perhaps the coffee will be just as good as the last time. She looks down at the half-eaten miniature Boston cream donut on the fluted baking paper. French 2. What is Enlightenment. Digital Media in the Time of Ecological Crisis. Regular milk? Regular milk. And Bakhtin and the Political Present. Flyers litter the bulletin board. Where to start. There is a wide range of freshly roasted single origin beans. And the coffee is made in a wide variety of ways. And the interior is warm and eclectic. There is ample seating and there are large windows and there are rounded grooves in the scuffed wall paneling. There are racks of magazines, and frosted glass pendant lamps in yellow and blue. It’s a relaxing atmosphere. Hiss of the steamer. Paper cups with dimpled brown sleeves. Stretched burlap in the window. The steam rises steadily. Where to sit. Waste of time. Write what you know. Listen, the coffee is organic and it taste very good. It is pure and hot and strong. It can always stand alongside friendship. Song from the sixties: refrain, elegy, churchyard, string quartet. Panned hard left and right. Simple, separate people. He writes on Twitter: Does anyone else feel like a ghost? I have had the privilege of trying the finest cafés in Korea, Japan, and all around Asia, but I’d say Coffee Exchange would be the best as far as Lattes are concerned. And honestly this is one of my favorite coffee shops, due to the quality and the variety. Ideal for a date, perfect for studying or working, and superb for simply enjoying your cup of coffee. No one would be disappointed. The hardest part is getting to the starting point, he says. I finished training last week. My first day is Monday. It’s one block of Williams, on the south side. Four more streets below that, between Benefit and Governor—John, Arnold, Transit, and Sheldon. From John to Sheldon it’s Thayer, Brook, Hope, and East, and all those tiny streets in between, names I can’t remember. It might seem impossible to learn your route at first but the jump in your knowledge from the first time to the second will be dramatic. That’s what I’ve generally found to be true for people. Close the laptop. Sakura means cherry blossom, smile, open mouth. The summer was long. I was away for six weeks, she says. Six weeks? I would read in the mornings. I would write long letters. I would wander, disquieted, along the avenues, under the linden trees. 3 bedroom, 1 full bath apartment on the second floor of a mixed-use building on Wickenden Street. Large open kitchen with granite counter top, spacious bedrooms, modern full bath, central air and in-unit laundry. Unruhig. Restlessly? But I have been sleeping well. Or I’ve been sleeping late. As the days get shorter it becomes easier to fall in love with shadows. Stirring in raw sugar, one packet. Oh, such a good book, he says. What did you think? The main thing is that everything happens at the right time. And that is grace. That is providence. The twentieth remove: here was mercy on both hands. Here was the benevolence of friends. Do you see a thousand little Motes and Atomes wand’ring up and down in a Sun-beam? That is preservation, and that is government. And in these providence consists. Such a good book. And when you start reading it, you notice little things about the city. The book club meets once a month, depending on the book. Always in person. And you notice little things, like the way the white cross on the church aligns with the windowpane and is split by shadow as the sun dips below the buildings. A picture held us captive, and we could not get outside of it, for it lay in our language. Where to start. Cross the room and sit by the window. Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr. Wer jetz allein ist, wird es lange bleiben. We are served our coffees, and the steam rises steadily.

Exhibition text for Jesse Sullivan: Coffee Shop, Drama Gallery, Brooklyn, NY

[madelinesadventures]

Donuts on the Couch

Madeleine and Neil cuddle on the couch after dinner, a break before dessert. She slides her hand under his belly to gently squeeze and massage his glorious fat.

She repositions herself and marvels at how wide her legs spread to straddle his girth.

‘Am I too heavy?’ she whispers in his ear.

Neil looks up at her with a dumbstruck grin and playfully grabs her love handles. She chuckles and rakes her fingernails over his hairy tummy, empty as yet.

Eager to watch him feast, Madeleine reaches for the dozen donuts on the coffee table.

Neil ate the first two glazed donuts quickly. The sugar coating amplified the melt in mouth tenderness of the fried dough. Donuts three and four - chocolate glazed, also go down easy.

Donuts five and six are a chocolate cake donut and Boston cream. A dollop of cream falls onto Neil's growing belly. Madeleine gently removes it with her finger and brings it to her lips.

Next, Madeleine feeds him bites of vanilla frosted to chase the crumbly apple cider donut. More than halfway finished, Neil requested a break. Madeleine hands him water, excited to hear his belly slosh.

The donuts were working their magic. Neil's belly looked so round and proud. Madeleine rubbed it tenderly, to soothe and help him make more room.

‘Are you ready to continue?’

After a moment of consideration, Neil grinned and pulled Madeleine on top of his lap.

‘Yes,’ he responds, breath so sweet.

Donuts nine and ten, powdered jelly and sugar go down easier after the break but the ache in his tummy is persistent. Madeleine could tell by his soft sighs and moans in between bites.

‘Almost there,’ she encourages. ‘You’re gonna look so plump and gorgeous when you finish. I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.’

The last two donuts are Neil's favorite raspberry long johns-sweet, tart and impeccable. He chews with furious delight.

Donut box now empty, Neil leans his head back on the couch and rests his hand on his swollen belly. Madeleine felt intoxicated by the way Neil's belly rested on his lap. She traces her fingers along his stretch marks and wonders how many new ones might appear in the next bit of time. She is in awe of the mountain of his body.

They settle into bliss and peace.

[onward--upward]

whats your favorite little treat?

tell me about a fic thats stuck with you.

whats your favorite season?

ouuu i love a little treat!! i think my most favourite is a boston cream donut from tim hortons specifically!!

for rwrb i recently read @dumbpeachjuice's fic always and everywhere and everything and... oh man. it's so good. so much love and history and angst, i ate that shit up!! if you love childhood friends -> lovers spanning years, with some angst along the way, i would highly recommend

my favourite season is fall!! fall is time for my birthday and halloween and hoodies and hockey and i love it sm. please bring back cooler weather i need summer to be overrrr its too hot

[fizzyxcustard]

Hello dear Fizzy

I’ve been out of tumblr for WEEKS

So thought I’d say hello in an ask ;) Hope you’re well.

If you feel like answering a head cannon ask: (For all RA characters or as many as you feel comfortable answering for) what would be his favourite food and his favourite song?

If you don’t feel like answering no worries I mostly just wanted to touch base and say hi :)

Now this is such a good one! I love it. :) Thank you, as always, for taking the time to send me these wonderful, thought-provoking asks.

I know we had a good catch up just after you sent this, so please don't think I'm ignoring your hello. ;)

I'm going to go with the main characters of RA's who appeal to me and who I write for. As for those who are fantasy or based in an earlier time period, I'm going to modernise them so I can easily choose their favourite song. :) I hope that's okay. <3

A haven't chosen specific songs for some of them, but gone into the genre they would enjoy. :)

THORIN OAKENSHIELD: Thorin enjoys music that is full of various sounds and layers. I imagine him being a fan of some of Rammstein due to the heavy sound and the German language reminds him of Khuzdul.

Thorin's favourite food is anything meaty. A nice pork joint or a beef stew; anything with plenty of meat and protein.

GUY OF GISBORNE: I see Guy liking something that will speak to his troubled side. So for his favourite song I actually see him enjoying 'The Sound of Silence' but the new version by Disturbed. It was also a huge favourite of my late mum's and is an amazing song which, unlike so many other covers, is actually better than the original.

Guy enjoys eating a lot of fruit. He's very active, so enjoys snacking when he has a spare few minutes.

LUCAS NORTH: Lucas has a very active mind, so he enjoys quieter songs. Classical music appeals to him; something like Mozart or Chopin.

Lucas has a sweet tooth and can usually be found sneaking cream cakes or donuts.

JOHN PORTER: Porter is a lover of classic rock. I can see his favourite song being something like "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake, or an old classic by Boston or Journey.

Porter enjoys a good portion of fish and chips or a breakfast fry up.

JOHN THORNTON: John would probably grow up listening to the music his parents enjoyed and loves music by The Beatles.

John very much likes enjoying cooked meals with his family.

RAYMOND DE MERVILLE: Raymond likes loud music which stops his mind taking him back to more troubling thoughts. Possibly even metal music, enjoying stuff like System of a Down.

Raymond isn't a picky eater at all, so he enjoys anything and everything.

[mysteriouslover1516]

Loki Laufeyson (Part 1)

(X-reader story based on Tom Hiddleston's portrayal of this beloved villain. [ character name is chosen, but the pronoun you is used]. This kinda follows the attack on NY, but there’s some differences, for example Thor knows that Loki is still alive before this takes place.  Also, Clint and Natasha form a couple in this story. Not all of the movies will be mentioned fully in this version, some may be hinted at, but not a lot of time will be spent on them.)

“Loki, you can’t keep bringing me back,” You whisper as your eyes glisten with tears.

“Bridget, I can’t just forget you. I have to see your face, hear your voice, I need you.” Loki pleads.

“I”m not worthy enough for you,” You look at your feet. “I’m only human.”

“You may be mortal, dearest, but you have captured my heart.” Loki gently lifts your chin up so your eyes meet his green ones.

Queen Frigga, Loki’s mother, rushes into the garden of the royal palace. “Loki, you must return her to her homeland, if your father finds out he will be very angry. He is coming!”

Loki quickly makes a portal and throws it at you. “Goodbye, my dearest. I will visit you soon.” He says quietly as the portal envelopes you and everything goes black.

You wake up and start to cry into your pillow, it was the same dream, the same memory. The last time you had seen him was five months ago, no word, no sign that he even cared about you anymore.

You glance at your clock on the nightstand, it was two in the morning. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt. You get out of bed and head over to the small kitchen of your apartment and get a drink of water. You place your hands on the sink counter and lean on it, taking deep breaths. You walk back to your bed and bury your head into your pillow, pulling the covers up over your waist. Part of you wished that just then Loki would teleport into your apartment and reassure you that he still loved you and cared for you, to tell you not to cry and that he’d hold you tight. The other part doubted that it would ever come true, he seemed to have vanished from your life, except for all the memories you held.

How had you fallen in love with Loki Laufeyson, the prince of Asgard? How had you captured HIS heart likewise? It happened when he was banished to earth for a year due to his disobedience to his father, Odin, the king of Asgard, and that was four years ago. You smile as you recall your first meeting with the god of mischief.

“Bridget, there is someone at the register.” Your coworker, Maggie said when you heard the  bell ring for the counter. “I would get it, but I am sorta in a sticky situation.”

You glanced over to see Maggie with pink frosting all over her hands.

“Piping bag burst,” Maggie explained as she saw your look.

You started laughing and wiped your hands on your apron, then headed out to the front room of the bakery. “How may I help you, sir?” You asked the man who was standing in front of the counter, looking at the display case of pastries. 

He had green eyes and shoulder-length black hair. Over his green shirt and dark pants he wore a black, lower-than-waist coat and a gray scarf.

The man stared at you for a few seconds then caught himself, “Um, what do you suggest?” His accent was British-like, but not quite all the way, the rest you couldn’t decipher.

 “Well……” You drew the word out as you pondered what to suggest to this new customer. “The eclairs are superb.”

“What is an eclair?” The man asked.

You got one out from the display case and placed it in a napkin then handed it to the man. “This is an eclair.”

The man bites into the oblong, frosted, donut-like pastry filled with boston cream.

“Well?” You smiled.

“It is superb, as you say it is.” The man smirked and his eyes seemed to laugh.

“How many would you like?” You smiled.

“I will desire two, I think. Then I will naturally pay for the one I just consumed.” He said, wiping his fingers off with the napkin.

You smiled at this man, you liked the words he used, he didn’t use the normal words people did, he used unique and more creative words, like you.

“Well the one you just consumed was a freebie, you needed to know if your taste buds mingled with the flavor nicely.”

The man chuckled and said, “My taste buds danced for joy the moment they touched the sweet delicacy.”

You laughed, “I’m glad, I’m Bridget by the way.” You handed the bag to the man, surprised that you gave the man your name, voluntarily.

“Loki,” The man took the bag and your fingertips brushed. You felt a tingle but pushed it aside.

“Looks like you owe us, hmm, seven dollars and fifty-five cents.” You said.

Loki gave you a ten dollar bill, “Keep the change, dearest-”

“Dearest?” Your eyes widened.

“Sorry, um, keep the change, I am so sorry, um, farewell.” Loki fumbled and his face reddened.

“Come back soon, Loki. It’s nice to see a new face,” You smiled, quickly recovering from your shock.

Loki grinned and walked out into the street and you headed towards the backroom.

“Bridget, you okay?” Maggie asked.

“Hmmm, what do you mean?” You asked, smiling.

“You are pink like a rose,” Maggie giggled, “Dearest….”

You laughed as Maggie said the word ‘dearest’, “How much did you hear?” “Every. single . Word.” Maggie emphasized the three words.

You smile at the memory, but it only made you miss him even more and your heart feels like it would now break. Your body shakes as you sob, but you eventually get yourself back together. You take a deep breath and soon your eyes involuntarily close, due to all the crying you have done. As you drift off to sleep, you dream a pleasant dream, a new and reassuring one.

"I still love you, my dearest. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to visit you sooner, and I'm even more sorry that you won't realize the truth. I love you so much, Bridget. Don't cry, darling, my heart belongs to you. I love you more than you could ever imagine, don't ever doubt that." Loki's gentle voice comes to you and you feel the covers being pulled up to your shoulders.

You sigh contentedly, and you feel something, rather someone, gently brush your hair out of your face and kiss your nose.

"Farewell, dearest. I love you so much." Loki says quietly, then your dream is filled with darkness.

You wake up in the morning, covers now over your shoulders. You remember the dream you had, and it makes you smile. The peace in that dream was so real, if only it was reality and not the subconscious wishes of your mind. 

You look at the ring on your left ring finger, it was a gift from Loki. The ring was a silver band with a single star in the middle.

Loki had given it to you the night before he left back to Asgard, his banishment over. He wanted to stay, but he knew he had to return to his home and make things right. That was your last date with him, the last time you got to see him without feeling rushed or being scared that someone would catch him with you. 

Odin had forbidden that Thor and Loki fall in love with mortals, mere humans. He knew about you, but he didn't know the extent of the relationship you and Loki shared. 

The only person from Asgard who knew about you two, was Frigga. When Loki had teleported you to Asgard when his father was away for a while in another galaxy, you had met her. She immediately loved you and was pleased that you had captured her son's heart, she feared it was impossible. Whenever Loki managed to sneak you into Asgard, Frigga looked out for the both of you, preventing Odin from finding out. 

The last time you had been on that planet, you were almost caught. It was the last time you had seen Loki, it was the memory that haunted you in your dreams, like last night.

You sigh and get up from your bed, it was your day off and you had promised to spend the day with your cousin, Natasha Romanoff, otherwise known as the Black Widow.

You quickly get dressed in some shorts and a casual shirt and slip your sandals on. Then you brush your hair back and put it in a messy bun, letting some strands fall and frame your face.

On your way out the door you grab a granola bar and a banana for your breakfast of champions. You lock your door behind you and head over to the staircase on the left hand side so you can descend the five flights.

Once you get outside you sprint over to your car, as you near it you smirk at the dent on your front fender. It wasn't terribly big, but it was still a dent, and guess who caused it? Yep, Loki did, it was partly your mistake, but it was still funny now that you thought of it.

You get into your car and start the engine, a few minutes later you are on your way to Stark Tower where you are supposed to pick Natasha up at.

As you drive along you let your mind wander and your thoughts travel to that day that you had trusted Loki to drive.

"Bridget,  I don't think this is the brightest idea you've ever had. What happens if I crash and cause damage?" Loki said, hesitantly.

You chuckled as you tossed the keys to Loki, "Come on, don't be a chicken. See? It's an empty parking lot, you won't hit any cars or anything, as long as you don't drive up on the curb." You smirked. You had driven out to the old airport parking lot, the airport had relocated, but it still was an empty driving lot and perfect for a drivers lesson.

Loki sighed, "You're not gonna give up, are you?"

"Nope, I'm a good teacher. Come on! It'll be fun!" With that you slid into the passenger side of your car.

Loki stood outside the door for a few seconds, then finally got in and paused.

"Put the key in the slot," you laughed as Loki held the key in his hand and remained frozen.

He did so and after your instructions he managed to turn the engine on.

"Good, now all you have to do is put the car into driving gear and off we go!" You said, excitedly. "Oh, but put your seatbelt on, just in case….."

Loki noted your voice trail off and he smirked, "Just in case I what, dearest?"

You smiled sweetly at him, "Just in case you crash, you don't want to fly through the windshield do you?"

At that picture Loki's eyes widened and you could see him pale. "Yes, you are quite right." He said as he buckled himself up.

"So the pedal in the middle is the brake, the gas is the small one on the right." You told him, "Now put your foot on the brake and then switch into the driving gear."

Loki did, very slowly, but he obeyed and you smiled.

"Swell, Loki, very swell. Now, gently ease your foot off the brake and push on the gas pedal just a tad bit."

"With what foot?" Loki asked, confused.

You looked at him weirdly, "With the right one, of course."

"But which one is the right one?!" Loki said flustered.

You giggled, "Loki, I meant with your right foot. Not right like in correct."

"Oh," Loki reddened and pressed on the gas pedal a bit too hard.

You let out a small scream and this time Loki laughed. "Scared, darling?"

You glared at him but couldn't help but smirk, "Don't get all cocky, now. You are doing quite well though."

Then you finally caught on after ten minutes, "Loki, are you using your holograms?"

Loki chuckled, "Is that a problem?"

"Loki Laufeyson! I'm trying to teach you how to drive! You should be grateful instead of giving me so much trouble!" You playfully said. "No more illusions."

"As you wish, dearest." Loki sighed and stopped using his magic.

The car was right where it had been when Loki started the engine.

"You little punk," You smirked. "How did you do the illusion of slamming on the gas?"

"It was easy, but I never tell my secrets," Loki winked and you blushed.

"Fine, but I want you to drive for reals this time."

"Now, Bridget, I don't think you should-"

You cut Loki off, "Do it!"

Loki sighed, "Anything for you." Then he put his foot on the gas and shot forward.

You let out a squeal and rolled down your window so the breeze fanned your face.

“You are certainly odd,” Loki commented as he drove along, surprisingly well.

You made a face at him then spotted something on the side of the road. “Loki, pull over!”

“Why?” 

“Do it!” You said and as soon as he stopped you jumped out and walked over to the rabbit.

“It’s going to run away,” Loki crossed his arms as he followed behind you.

“Can’t you control it with your powers?” You ask.

“Not my area.” Loki smirked, “Midgardians are certainly interesting.”

The rabbit glanced at you nervously then hopped away.

“You made me pull over for a rabbit?” Loki says unimpressed.

You heard a rumbling noise behind you and a crash, you turned around to see your car plowed into a tree. “Loki! You didn’t put the car in park?!”

Loki’s face grew red and he stuttered “I’m terribly sorry, I-”

"It's fine," You soothed him, "Come on, let's see how the car is."

You ran over and looked at the front fender. "Hmm, not bad, but that's still a dent for sure."

Loki comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, "I'm so sorry, dearest. You should have known better though."

You chuckled and gave him a peck on the cheek, "I did know better, but I chose to have faith in you. You didn't do that bad, but I think that the driving lesson is over for the day."

Loki sighed in relief and kissed you, "Thank you."

You wake up from your memories when you hear a car honk at you. 

"Sorry," you say to the car behind you as you go through the green light. 

As you pull up to the front entrance of Stark Tower and are waiting for Natasha, you mess with the music in your car.

You jump as you hear a knock on your window and you look up to see the smiling face of a familiar friend.

You get out of your car and say, “Phil Coulson! How have you been?”

“Reasonably well, Bridget. How about you?” A tall man wearing a gray suit and with short dark hair answers as he envelopes you in a hug.

“Could be better, but I’m not complaining. How is the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division treating you?” You ask and smile at how many times you had told Phil that the name needed to be shortened.

“It’s just S.H.I.E.L.D now,” Phil chuckles.

“Thank goodness,” You laugh.

Phil smirks, “I know you knew that by now, Bridget.”

"Been spying on me, have you?" You tease.

Phil straightens his tie, "Don't play with me now, I've read your files."

You blush even though you know he's joking, "And what did you find?"

"You're still single," Phil smiles.

Your mouth drops open and you blush even more.

Phil and you had known each other since you were both fifteen. And it was no secret he constantly flirted with you and had asked you to date him numerous times, but every time you had said no. You thought he would have found someone else by now, but you were apparently wrong.

"Phil, please, don't." You give him a small smile, "I've told you, we're just friends."

Phil smirks, "I haven't lost hope though, Bridget. I still think one day you could be mine." He winks.

"About time you showed up!" Natasha says as she walks over to you, cutting the conversation short much to your relief.

"Hey, Nat." You smile as you give your cousin a hug.

Surprisingly, Natasha hugs you back, she had a reputation for being tough, but she still was friendly when off duty. "Ready to go?" She asks and looks at Phil who had been smiling this whole time.

"Well, goodbye Bridget." Phil says, gives you one last hug and walks off.

"What was that about?" Natasha asks and raises an eyebrow.

You groan, "Don't ask."

Natasha chuckles and plays with the strings on her black hoodie that compliments her black jeans and black tennis shoes.

"You look a little dark," you joke at her outfit, the only thing that really gives it contrast is her short, bright red hair.

"I'm always dark," Nat shrugs and then says, "I'm dying for a coffee, how about you?"

"Sure," you smile and both of you get back into your car.

"You still work at the bakery?" Natasha asks as she looks out the window.

"Yep, it's a good job and I enjoy it." You answer. "What's it like being a spy?"

"Tiring but rewarding." She says, "It's fun to sneak around and uncover things that criminals thought would never be discovered."

"I get that," you nod and keep driving to the nearest coffee shop.

"Was he hitting on you?" Nat asks suddenly.

Your eyes remain on the road, but your cheeks flush red. "Natasha! I said don't ask!"

Nat chuckles, "I'll take that as a yes, then. Why don't you date him? Phil is nice, brave, he-"

"I know his good qualities, Nat," you cut her off. "I just, I don't like him that way."

"So you really don't like anyone?" Natasha presses.

You hesitate, "I didn't say that."

"Who is he?!" She asks way too eagerly.

You laugh, "Not telling."

"What's he like?" Natasha begs.

"Mysterious, charming, mischievous, but mainly just mysterious." You say.

Natasha frowns and crosses her arms when she gets the message you're not going to reveal anymore.

"What about you? Too busy to date?" You ask playfully.

Natasha smirks, "Nah, never too busy to flirt at least."

You shake your head, "That's mean just to lead people along like that."

Nat shrugs, "What if I'm not?"

"It better only be one guy," you answer and she doesn't say anything else on that subject.

After you two get your coffee you decide to walk around central park and enjoy the weather.

You roll your head back in laughter and when you look up your breath catches in your throat as a pair of green eyes capture yours.

"Bridget?" Natasha asks curiously.

You mumble something unintelligent to her and then walk to the person quickly, wondering if it was just a dream or wishful thinking.

"Loki?" You whisper and nearly burst into tears as you realize that he is really there in front of you.

The prince wraps you in a hug and holds you tight, "Hello, dearest."

"It's been too long," you sniffle but are filled with joy.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that, I really am, darling." Loki steps back as Natasha approaches.

"Who is this?" Nat asks suspiciously, eyebrow raised.

"This is Loki Laufeyson." You introduce him to her while he looks slightly uncomfortable.

"Like the norse god?" Natasha asks.

"Kinda," you manage to say with a straight face, if only she knew that he was the norse god.

Loki clears his throat nervously and you hold his hand to reassure him that everything is okay.

"Well, I'll give you two a minute to catch up." Natasha says, getting the hint that you want to be alone with Loki for a moment. She then walks on ahead down the path and doesn't look back.

"Where have you been?" You ask quietly and throw your arms back around Loki's neck.

"I've been away," Loki whispers. "I visited you last night, I wanted to keep you in the dark and let you think it was just a dream, but I couldn't."

You nod, "I heard you so clearly, I was half hoping it wasn't a dream. I'm so glad it was real!"

Loki sighs, "Dearest, I can only stay for a little while, minutes at the most."

"Why?" You ask, devastated.

"I wish I could tell you, Bridget." He hugs you tighter. "I'll explain it all later, just, no matter what happens, never forget that I love you."

You pull back slightly nerved by the desperation in his voice, “Loki, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

Loki kisses your forehead and then creates a portal, “I’m so sorry, dearest, I’m so, so sorry.” He then disappears before you can say another word.

You stand there shocked and as the realization hits you that he left so soon, makes you start to sob.

Natasha comes running back to you as she sees you wipe your eyes, “What’s the matter, Bridget? Where’d he go?”

You shake your head and try to look brave, “He had to go, I’m okay.”

Natasha could tell you weren’t okay, but she let it slide. “He seems mysterious.” She finally says.

“He is,” you smile, “he’s the one I was telling you about.”

“Interesting,” she furrows her eyebrows. “How’d he leave so quickly?”

“I’ll explain it to you later,” you say sadly. “Want to go back to my apartment?”

Natasha looks at her phone and groans, “I wish I could, Bridget, but I should probably head back to the Tower.

“Ok,” you say, slightly looking forward to being alone in your thoughts. “Want me to drive you back?”

Nat shakes her head, “I’ll take a cab. Thanks for allowing me to hang out with you,” she smiles and gives you a quick hug.

“Let’s do it more often,” you grin and wave as she walks down the path.

You decide to stay in the park a bit longer and you find an isolated park bench and settle down. You look up at the lake and the breeze blows your hair around. You sigh and make a decision, you’d be brave and remember that Loki loved you. You wouldn’t fret so much about him and you would become resolved to wait patiently for your lover.

Hey lovelies ;) I started this story a few years ago, I hope some of you can appreciate it still, lol. Depending on how many reviews and likes I get, I might post more in this series. Thank you for giving me a chance!

[fruityfourgalore]

*dj khaled's voice* and anotha one

boston cream [read over on ao3] for my boo @thefreakandthehair MERRY CHRISTMAS ♡♡♡♡♡I LOVE YOUUUUU

The line for the drive-thru was irrationally long for a coffee shop that sucked at consistently making a latte. They could go in and grab their coffee, Eddie thought as he looked through the semi-foggy windows. There were maybe ten patrons in there and all of them were sitting down enjoying their coffee and donuts. It would surely be a faster, more sensible decision.

But if they did that then Eddie couldn’t lean over the center console and whisper, “I bet I can make you come before we get to place our order.”

[sucktacular]

Vent under the cut

But I'm on my way home an hour early and I'm having a beautiful cinnamon raisin bagel, a chocolate milk, and a Boston cream donut 🙏

So anyway-

My soul was destined to be a moody, black-sheep of a son that hates his mom and dad.

But instead I was born a daughter that tried and tried to love them, but deeply learned to hate them instead.

Whom of which just think I'm a spoiled, ungrateful child LOL

And frankly it's two birds with one stone if I can get them to keep just believing their delusions and stop trying to talk to me/have me come over.

And like, I think one of the worst lessons I've had to learn from them is that you simply can't communicate your interpersonal problems away with some people. Like, I hear myself thinking this stuff and I'm like "oh just communicate harder, clearer, that will fix this" as if I hadn't tried a billion times and it always ended up with them feeling insulted and pissed and even more set in their ways.

I really thought, "maybe when I get older, I'll get wiser, and I'll finally find the perfect way to get things across". But the time passes by and while I do grow wiser and I do level out/calm down, whatever is in them festers further.

--

Anyway, I'm deeply bitter that I was robbed of being a son that hates his parents.

And I can't explain what that means when I say it, frankly. It means a lot of gendery and emo and deeply resentful things. But thinking about being who I am, it deeply feels like waking up from a beautiful, amazing dream, and realizing there's no tangible reality in which any of it is true or possible.

I was suppose to be a hot, gay emo boy that hates his parents and I only got half of that!!! -_- wtf!!!