#this is probably the most I've ever added pictures when answering an ask but it was also a lot of fun doing it :D

[distinguishedstudentfishalien]

AHHH ok, let's talk about Lucifer and Alastor

I've been reading a lot of reactions to Hazbin: from the gushers who think the show is perfect to the hyper-critical who hate the show, the creator, and everything in between. I don't fall into any of those categories. I had a lot of fun watching it, but there were some things I liked, and some others I didn't. You know, as it's usually the case with any piece of media one interacts with.

I love reading other people's opinions. It makes me pay more attention to things I might have missed. BUT for Hazbin, most of the criticism I've seen boils down to two things: either "I, personally, didn't like it, so that means it's bad" which is not the hot take people seem to think it is, or just lack of media literacy.

I won't go over all the examples of that last point (there are plenty), but one example people are using to criticize the show --which I can't seem to get out of my head so now I have to write about it-- it's how out of left field it was for Alastor to think of himself as a father figure to Charlie.

My guys and guysettes, that's because he doesn't.

He does it to piss off Lucifer, because he doesn't like him. That's it.

"But they just met, why doesn't he like him?" I don't know! but let's go over some examples, shall we?

In the first episode, during Alastor's TV ad, we see a picture of the hotel, clearly drawn by him. I ask you to look to the bottom left where it says "No tacky circus decor! I promise"

Do we know what he is referring to? Sure we do! the ring circus master himself! Lucifer Morningstar, whose whole schtick is circus-related. Clearly, Alastor is not a fan.

When Lucifer arrives to the hotel, did anybody catch Alastor's first reaction? (besides calling him short to his face, ofc)

Do you see that trembling eye? He is PISSED. Why? Who the hell knows! But he clearly does not care for the King of Hell himself (if you force me to give you my opinion on this, I think it's because of Alastor's delusions of grandeur, and plain-ole narcissism, but that is a conversation for another post, if I ever gather enough energy to write it)

He introduces himself and immediately does this. R-U-D-E.

Now, let's talk about the song itself, which, again, is clearly just an attempt to piss off Lucifer and not really about Charlie. At all.

He only cares about Lucifer's reactions. Because he is not being HONEST. We can all see that? right?? I mean, it is pretty FREAKING obvious. He is just trying to get a rise out of Lucifer.

And now, the moment we were all waiting for, the infamous "call me dad" moment.

Which had nothing to do with Charlie, and it was just another example of Alastor being the most annoying bastard alive. He is not even looking at her! He is staring Lucifer dead in the eye and saying "piss off shortie".

Why? Again, I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine. I hope we'll get the answer in season 2, because immediate animosity against the King of Hell himself is something I need some context for. Is it funny? Absolutely! I love that song! The violin solo? PURE GOLD (he he)

But for the love of Christ and the Antichrist, please stop thinking of "Alastor thinks of himself as Charlie's dad out of nowhere" as a valid criticism. As some have speculated, Alastor involvement with Charlie will probably have something to do with Alastor's deal and 7-year absence. If it's never explained, then sure, what the heck Vivzie?? please include it on the show!

There are PLENTY of things we could criticize about Hazbin (and people smarter and with more energy than me have done so already). But there are so many examples of "criticism" that are just examples of "I don't know how to interact with media anymore" and I beg of you to do better. This is a tiny example of the show showing and not telling, and some of y'all failed the comprehension test.

It is a fun show, guys. Enjoy it.

TL;DR: Alastor does not think he is Charlie's dad, ffs. He just wanted to piss off Lucifer.

[writtenjewels]

Voice part 2

Part One

Over the next few days, Salim listened to his meditation tape whenever he needed to relax. Sometimes it was only once, sometimes twice a day. His favorite time to do it was just as he was getting into bed. Listening to that charming Southern voice talk him through a massage usually eased him into sleep. He tried going to a real massage parlor, but he couldn't find one that employed Americans with Southern accents. Even if such a person existed, Salim doubted they would be willing to call him “darlin'.”

So he stuck to the tape. Sometimes when the voice spoke to him, he answered, and again he would get the sense the words were shifting to accommodate him. It was hard to know for sure because when the thought came to him, he was usually close to drifting off to sleep. He put it aside for later and by the time he woke up, he decided it wasn't really that important to worry about.

Zain came over to visit. The two of them spent as much time together as they could. Salim loved hearing about his son's success at college. There wasn't as much to say concerning Salim's own life.

[Baba, it's okay if you want to go out and find someone,] Zain told him.

[I know, son. Thank you.]

He thought about the prospect after Zain left. His boy was probably right: it was past time for Salim to put himself out there. But the idea made him nervous. His courtship with Maysa was all arranged, their outings together supervised. He put in his meditation tape, knowing it could put him at ease.

“Hey, darlin',” the Southern voice greeted him. “Been a while. You all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine. I'm thinking to start dating again.” Saying the words out loud made it feel more real.

“That so.” There was silence for a moment. “You ready for it?”

“I don't really know,” Salim sighed. “I've only ever been with my wife, and we didn't date in the way Americans do. I don't know why I'm telling you that,” he added.

“It's 'cause I'm such a good listener.” Salim laughed; he couldn't help picturing a face smirking at him playfully while saying those words. It was obvious now that this tape was not normal: its words were too specific. Unlike his son, Salim never believed in the supernatural before. He didn't know what was at work here, but it was clearly beyond the ordinary.

And he realized it didn't bother him. He liked listening to this strange tape, and its charming Southern speaker.

“Will you help me?” he asked.

“Name it,” the voice responded immediately. Salim smiled, feeling a little flutter in his chest.

“Your massages relax me.” He hesitated, feeling ridiculous as he said, “Though if you can give me any tips on what to say, I would appreciate it.”

“Fuck, I donno. Your looks will probably do most of the work.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Salim snorted. There was silence again, and he started to get undressed for bed.

“Start with a joke,” the voice advised. “Puts 'em at ease. Then maybe a compliment.”

“All right.” Salim stretched out on his bed. “I'll try that.” He waited, but the voice was silent. “What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothin',” the voice assured him. “Nothin's wrong, darlin'.” The massage description proceeded as usual. Though Salim found it soothing, his mind was occupied and he couldn't fall asleep easily.

He couldn't shake this feeling that the voice on the tape just lied to him.

[crguang]

always love the violinist au lore drops, omg.

so...was their instructor elio? if so thats crazy. always imagined him playing a stringed instrument (like pulling strings, puppeteer-esque bc he's like manipulating the future idk) so i always pictured him playing like violin, or harp. but also maybe bass bc he's sort of setting everything up and he like tells the future, and his v basic instruction (bc lets be honest they're barely following the script, its v lenient) there just wouldnt be stellaron hunters, and usually basses keep everyone on beat, idk.

btw i've been meaning to ask, how does kafka know blade in this au? like very funny to me how the ppl she's closest to in canon are basically her coworkers 😭

also the angst, like damn. them not rlly knowing each other until they meet again, even tho kafka is literally haunted by their presence, omg. and their instructor being a piece of shit and kafka not rlly realizing until later...i can't. and r being insecure and guilty abt it all, im going to implode. and kafka practicing until her fingers bleed ik her fingers are callused af.

also r not being able to recognize that kafka likes them bc of their insecurities, and kafka wearing sunglasses to hide that bc she thinks its so obvious, I'm gonna die. ik they're so annoying whenever kfr hangs out w acheswan. and kafka inviting r to the opera saying "i have two tickets" like blade isnt right there if she rlly needed someone to go with, and she's rich probably and one ticket doesn't mean much, she's so obvious.

but honestly it'd be kind of embarrassing to admit that u like kafka, shes such a loser. could never imagine admitting to liking kafka like that.../s

my finals also didn't start out very well, but im finishing them up this week and then im free for a month. do think i will fail my last one tho. its like my worst subject and im a pretty bad test taker in the first place, but wtv, it'll totally be fine. I'm sure you'll do good tho

-🌠

oh my god i didnt even think that far but i love this a lot. elio playing a string instrument always felt right but the bass especially would be so good… violin and bass sounds right to me it’s added to the lore 😋

kafka and blade…. once again plugging this insane animation about them because while it wouldnt apply exactly to a modern au, this is the vibe they’ve always given me. like no he didnt try to kill himself in front of her but this sort of chance meeting where each of them goes “oh, this one knows emptiness.” is how i want them to find each other every time. to me, blade might be the person that understands kafka the most and his care for her makes me want to die. they obviously care a lot about each other, they’re the best friends ever for me. implicit understanding of how the other works, long comfortable silences, them going through life together… i cant stand kafblade as a ship but i cant even lie like i get it man. blade’s perception of destiny is full of pain bc he’s left to suffer through it while kafka strives to make it her own wow sorry they mean so much to me. im realizing i havent actually answered your question but thats because i havent thought about it too much hejdjfkg i want her to find him on the side of the road or something. but i believe the stellaron hunters understand kafka best that’s why they’re closest to her even if sometimes it’s not the influence she needs

https://youtu.be/EED6XGHX7DI?si=jE7KkuZtSosG0zbB

kafka with calloused hands is so important to me she’s always wearing gloves now but won’t really wear them when she’s playing the violin because it’s much more intimate that way. UGH r tracing her fingers and knuckles and going over the faded marks there… let’s all cry. hanging out with acheswan and blade has made kafka believe that she’s so obvious she has to wear sunglasses around r for her own sanity but the whole time r is thinking “does she even like me 😣😣😣”, ridiculous. they’re both so stupid it’s really insane that it took them almost 15 years to get together like what’s wrong with them.

“i have two tickets” = i want you i want you i want you i want you i want you—

i would never tell kafka i like her i don’t think this is information she needs to have… it’d be obvious tho and she’d manipulate the shit out of me because of it but thats ok this is literally me

hope your finals arent too hard bc mine are definitely not going well so far hdhdjfkg but its fine we’ll live to write gp!kafka smushots during winter break

[kittyhuii]

User kittyhuii what are you waiting for…now we need a comforting crying Jun fic like🥹

╰┈➤ 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥

➠ genre: hurt, comfort and fluff towards the end

➠ pairings: jun x gn!reader

➠ word counter: 762 words

With the flip of a spatula, the pair of sunny side up eggs on the pan sizzled. You check the time on the wall clock behind you, it was 6:03am and you were cooking breakfast for you and your boyfriend Jun.

After a few more minutes of cooking, the whole kitchen lingered with the scent of toasts and eggs. Ah yes, a perfect breakfast. The sizzling on the pan died down as you lifted off the eggs and laid them on top of the toasts you prepared for the two of you. Silence filled the house as you finished cooking, but you heard some faint noises. Curious, you walked around the house trying to find and make out what you were hearing. You were nearing your shared bedroom when you heard sniffles coming from inside it. Hurriedly, you burst through the door and see your boyfriend, sitting up and leaning back on the headboard of the bed, hugging his knees and sobbing. 

You felt a pang in your heart, you've never seen your boyfriend cry in front of you, and the thought of him holding back his tears for you only breaks your heart more. You quickly take off the apron wrapped on your waist and drop it on the floor as you make your way to your boyfriend. 

"Hey, hey… Junnie, what's wrong?" you whisper to him as you sit down in front of him on the bed. Hearing your voice, he turned to you, still with his hands covering his face holding back wet sobs. "It's okay… it's okay, I'm here" you added, though his crying only grew louder upon hearing your words. You put one of your hands on his back and start patting it as a way of comforting him since you were not the best at comforting people, just you being here with him hopefully will give him the comfort he needs. 

You continue to whisper comfort to your boyfriend for the next few minutes before you finally notice his breathing become steady. "Wanna talk about it?" you start, giving him a warm smile. "I'm sorry…" Jun finally said as he looked at you with his bloodshot eyes and tear stained face. "I… I've not been the best boyfriend to you… and sometimes I think I don't deserve you, you're probably sick of me by now…" he rambled, and you weren't having any of it. "Hey hey, where's all this coming from?" you asked him, searching his eyes for an answer and he looked down on his hands that soon held yours. "If there's someone in the relationship somebody doesn't deserve, it's me who doesn't deserve you when you're the best boyfriend I can ever ask for." you said sincerely, giving his hands a slight squeeze to have your message delivered to him. "You're such a busy man, yet you always make time for me, I know it must be hard to balance your work and with me in the picture it must be harder," you added. "That's exactly why! I want to spend more time with you than I have the past few years, it's just… so hard." he said dejectedly. "And that's okay, I understand, and I know you understand that I understand." you said as a half-hearted joke and he giggled. 

There it was, there he is, the man you fell in love with. Jun, who had so many sides to him that you've still not fully known. He was goofy, he was silly and funny but he was also a caring boyfriend, the most caring person you've known and that was something he's always expressed throughout your relationship. And now, he showed you his vulnerable side and you were glad he did, he trusts you enough to let him see this side of him you've never seen before. And most of all, you were glad that you were here with him. 

You two shared a few more giggles under the comfort of each other's arms and the bed cuddling the both of you before you finally said, "If ever there are times you feel like this again… don't hesitate to tell me, okay?" and he nodded in response. "That's because… you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you, no one would want a partner who'd make their lover a cold breakfast right?" you heartily laughed as you led the two of you to share the breakfast you've prepared long ago, it was cold now but you two have never felt warmer with the love you two share for each other.

a/n: hey anon! you're so right, a comfort jun fic was long overdue. I hope u enjoy this! ^^

[beacon-of-chaos]

Since Quetza is in the @sonic-oc-showdown, I figured I'd fill out one of these questionnaires I've seen around. I apologise, I'm not sure who came up with it, but I first saw it on @bunnymajo's page.

FYI: Some of this stuff I am coming up with on the fly!

Name: Quetza the Snake

Species: Winged Snake. No particular type of snake in mind.

Type: Flight

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Home: Station Square?

Quetza claims to be either the reincarnation, descendant, or chosen one of the ancient god Quetzacoatl. The answer differs each time you ask her, but it's hard to deny. She's a snake born with wings and she has magical abilities, specifically control over wind and air, and shapeshifting, which is why she has four arms. She travels the world, looking for clues about her true nature. She has an easy going nature and can be shy, but opens up quickly to those are friendly to her. She loves fashion, junk food, and video games. She doesn't like to fight, but can defend herself if she needs to, using gusts of wind to fly around and using her shapeshifting to extend her arms or tail for quick strikes.

✨How did you come up with the OC’s name?

She's inspired by the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl, the winged serpent god. Quetzalcoatl means "precious serpent" in the Nahuatl language, so her name could roughly be translated as Precious the Snake!

Note: It's pronounced KET-zah. :)

🌼  - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

She's an adult. Late 20s, I guess?

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

No. She gains crushes easily, and forgets them almost as quickly.

🍕  - What is their favorite food?

Ice cream! She has a real sweet tooth.

💼  - What do they do for a living?

Uh... I haven't thought that far yet.

So, at this point I need to explain. Quetza is literally just my fursona; wish fufilment in all its forms XD. She doesn't have a story, per se.

So I could give her a boring office job like mine. Or maybe say that she's something really cool? Like my version of the Rookie?

How about this: she started as a scout for the Resistance and is now a manager/organiser at the Restoration, working closely with Jewel.

🎹  - Do they have any hobbies?

Video games, mostly action/adventure types.

🎯  -What do they do best?

Flying! With her wind magic aiding her, no one can fly faster or more skillfully!

🥊  -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Shopping and exploring! She travels often, looking for clues about her past, but she's always looking for a nice city to stay in when she does so.

❤️  - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

I think when she realised exactly what her powers could do. Figuring that out about herself would be a big moment.

✂️   - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Probably getting bullied for being a freak by the other kids when she was younger :(

🧊  - Is their current design the first one?

No, she's changed a fair bit since her first design. I literally added the extra arms cos I thought it was cool and her hairstyle has changed a lot (as you can see in the above pictures). She also used to be a rattlesnake cos I thought it would be cute if she rattled when scared/angry. IDK, might bring that back.

🍀  - What originally inspired the OC?

I like snakes and I always thought the idea of a snake with wings was cool. I really fell in love with the concept of Coatls in D&D a while back so I wanted to make that my 'sona.

🌂  - What genre do they belong in?

IDK, what do Sonic games count as? Action? Sci-fi (there's a lot of robots, after all)?

💚  -What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Genderfluid transwoman, bisexual.

🙌  - How many siblings does your OC have?

None.

🍎  - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

I think pretty good? I don't have parents for her in mind yet.

🧠  - What do you like most about the OC?

LOOK. AT. HER. ❤️

Shout out to @kuchintta for the comission I got.

✏️  - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Almost never. This is the most I've ever written about her and I don't actually draw much.

💎  - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No! That would be like killing myself.

💀  - Does your OC have any phobias?

Hm. My phobia is of heights, but she can fly so there's no way that would scare her. I guess not!

🍩  -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

That jerk at Restoration HQ who always gets the best snacks from the vending machine first! How does he always get there so quick?

🎓  - How long have you had the OC?

About a year... apparantly! Wow, that's gone by quick!

[alexbutrandomthoughts]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Boy oh boy where do i even start. Honestly it's always hard to pin down my favorite characters across all the fandoms cuz I've consumed a LOT of media,but I'll try to name the current ones (warning, i am such a basic bitch this list is gonna predictable afffff. Probably.)

10. Ai Hoshino (Oshi no ko)

Ngl if you ignore most of the weird shit that happens in oshi no ko, it is such a goddamn captivating story, Ai in particular. Idk i guess i really like the idea of this "ultimate idol" who is a pathological liar (due to honestly unfortunately circumstances) having to maintain this picture perfect image, to the point where people don't even perceived her as a real person. And it's really tragic considering all she ever wanted to is to actually say "i love you" and mean it for once.

9. Killua Zoldyck (Hunter×Hunter)

Was he start of my obsession with white haired characters? Nah, but he definitely contributed. Honestly, sassy brat with a soft spot that can absolutely fuck shit up? Yeah there was no way i wouldn't have been obsessed with Killua the second he got introduced. Honestly i like Gon almost as much, but i prefer moodie baddies to sunshine characters. I would genuinely dedicate another 10 hours minimum to talk about him, but i don't think ppl will care enough to read so yeeah

8. Sunset Shimmer (MLP)

I wasn't really in the mlp fandom, so i have no idea how Sunset was perceived initially (i would assume negatively, but then again idk) so i am going off of the fact my lil sisters used to haTE on her in the first movie, but MAAAAAN I LIKED HER BITCHY SELF EVEN BACK THEN. The former star pupil of princess Celestia???? That left to another world cuz of her own hubris???? AND SHE'S PUNK ROCK???? I mean she got redeemed and joined the main six and all, but overall, probably my favorite mlp character (still mourn the bitchy attitude tho, in that regard i prefer Starlight but i digress)

7. Sans Undertale

I mean. Yeah. I already said I'm basic as fuck but like. At least i don't wanna fuck him. Anywaaay, i guess it's the air of mystery to this seemingly chill guy, who just hangs around and tells bad jokes and somehow aware of the timelines more than the rest, probably related to Gaster in some way, and maybe he's not even a monster cuz monsters don't bleed and he fucking does, what does this all mean TOBY FOX I NEED ANSWERS- and he has arguably the best fight in the entire game, so yknow. Cool guy

6. Gwen Stacy (Spiderverse)

I liked her in "In to the Spiderverse" but i absolutely loved her in ATSV. Her struggles and mistakes felt so real and I'm so glad they decide to focus on her this film (the opening sequence dead ass my favorite scene in the whole movie) and explore her backstory with Peter's death and her father, it's just adding the depth to a character that was already great just UGH chef's kiss

5. Tooru Oikawa (Haikyuu)

God he has such a slappable face, i love him. I knew from the second when the fangirls screamed, i would either hate him or love him. Every scene he was in, he served (pun intended), he slayed and made me cry. I know decent junk of the fandom are avid Oikawa haters but they can honestly suck my dic-

Anyway yeah he is my boy

4. Osamu Dazai (Bungoe Stray Dogs)

Goofy ass detective with a dark past, homosexual rival and who's also a suicidal maniac? Yeah this was tailor made for me. Can you tell i have a type because i definitely do. I just really like mfkas with slappable faces. I am a sucker for redeemed bad guys, who are now try to be good cuz 💫reasons💫. AND i am also weak for mentor apprentice trops (Atsushi/Dazai shippers back off, i bite and definitely have rabies)

3. Satoru Gojo (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Speaking of my obsession with white haired guys. Yeah, I'm not sure what can i even say that haven't been said abt this guy and reasons to love him (fuck u gege) honestly will i ever stop loving side characters who are often silly mentor figures, with lots of baggage, a gay rival and too much angst? I can only say one thing.

Nah I'd win

2. Maomao (The Apothecary diaries)

BSODGWOWBSHSOSNS9WHSOSBISGWJWVSVDIWJWJEJIEHEIEHJEBEIS. Ahem, okay so hands down my favorite female protagonist of all time. God she is just perfect. Istg all u people who never watched Apothecary diaries I BEG U TO WATCH IT PLSSSS IT'S SO GOOD. Even if you don't watch anime, i promise you this show is absolutely worth the time. Maomao is what happens when you write a good no, GREAT female character without the whole anime bs. Like???? She has her own strength and weaknesses and she doesn't need to be physically strong (full offense, marvel) or be "not like the other girls" to be great.

1. Kaveh (Genshin impact)

So uhhhh, you can really blame Will Stetson for this one. I genuinely couldn't have cared less about genshin or this random blond if it wasn't for "Writing on the Wall". It started with a banger ass song, and ended with arguably my favorite character in all of media ever. I think one of my favorite things abt Kaveh, is that compared to some of the other characters in genshin, he's really just a guy. Like bro missed the entire archon quest, mfka was just minding his own business. He is tortured architect and honestly bro has taken so many Ls in life it's kinda crazy. And well the fact that he has "a roommate" just adds more to him. Gay rival and all

Aaaaand that's 10 characters. Honestly i wouldn't call it my top 10 favorite of all time. I probably forgot some of the characters that i used to be obsessed with at some point. I just picked the ones that came first to mind :3

[justice4billy]

Baby, it's a secret

Mentions of guys being complete creeps may be upsetting for some

Chapter twenty

6th June 1985

Cassie picked at her food as she absentmindedly stared at the beautiful house surrounding her.

"Are you not hungry?" Lisa asked as she stared at Cassie, a concerned look etched onto her face.

Cassies eyes widened in embarrassment. "Oh gosh, sorry I was admiring your home" she apolgised.

Lisa smiled. "No need to apolgise hun" she stated. "We are both really happy to have you here" she stated giving Don a nudge.

Don nodded. "Of course" he answered around a mouthful of food which made Cassie internally grimace.

Cassie smiled back. "I wanted to give you guys these" she stated fetching the pictures out of her pocket and settling them on the table.

Lisa looked at the pictures, tears brimming her eyes. "Wow, can I look?" She asked gently.

"You can keep them if you like" Cassie offered with a small smile. She really liked Lisa, she could tell this meant alot to her but she wouldn't lie and say the thought of handing her baby over made her nervous.

"Oh gosh, he's getting so big already" Lisa gushed as she looked at the scan in her hand.

"That was his 21 week scan" she replied. "Hes probably alot bigger now, well he feels like it" she replied with a small wince as the baby kicked her.

"You okay?" Lisa asked concerned.

"He kicks alot" Cassie grimaced. "Do you want to feel?" She asked.

Lisa teared up. "Are you sure?" She asked chocking on a sob. Cassie gave her a nod as the woman slowly got up, and sat by Cassie. "Wow" she gushed as she touched her belly. "Hes kicking up a storm" she stated her eyes widening.

"Yep, he likes when I eat certain food too drives him crazy" Cassie replied with a small giggle.

"Oh Don, our baby is kicking" she gushed.

Cassie paused. Our baby. The reminder that things didn't last, and soon her baby would no longer be hers. And for some reason that thought stung.

.......................................................................

20th June 1985

"How was the visit?" Eddie asked over the phone as Cassie applied cream to her stomach. God, she was starting to really hate her stretch marks.

Summer break had truly come under way and she hadn't seen Eddie in almost two weeks, his little band had become somewhat of a hit in their small town so he was spending most night either playing DND or playing shows. She was still living in his trailer and caught gim at random times of the night, but she had missed spending time with him.

"Yeah, it was actually really good and they have a nice house" she stated.

"You going back anytime soon?" He asked.

Cassie sighed. "I'm actually going back tonight, thought I had told you" she added.

"You may have" Eddie replied sheepishly. "Sorry Cass, I was out of it the other night so I probably forgot" he added guilty.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Its fine Ed, I'm just going over for a meal with them" she stated.

"What time are you going?" He asked.

"I've got to be there for five" she responded.

"I'll take you" he offered. "I'm meeting the kids at six" he stated.

"Are you sure? It's ten minutes out of Hawkins" she asked chewing her lip. She didn't want to put anyone out.

"Wow, that will make such a difference" Eddie added sarcastically before letting out a laugh.

"Thank you, but I'm going to hang up now" Cassie sassed back at him, before putting down the phone and cutting off his protests.

........................................................................

Cassie huffed as she waddled up the driveway, watching Eddie's van race off down the quiet street. For some reason she felt nervous, more nervous than she had ever felt. Maybe because it felt like this was the big dinner where everything would change.

She sighed before ringing the doorbell, her eyes widening in surprise when Don answered with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Cassie" he slurred slightly sounding surprised.

Cassie furrowed her brow an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. "Is Lisa here?" She asked feeling awkward. She hadn't spoken much to Don, and had never been alone with him.

"She went to get some stuff for dinner" he responded. "Come in she won't be long" he urged her.

"You sure? I can come back" she trialed feeling uneasy.

Don laughed. "Nonsense, she won't be long come in" he urged opening the door wider.

Cassie bit her lip, before stepping througj the doorway carefully. The last thing she wanted was to offend the couple. She tried not to get nervous when she caught the stench of whiskey on his clothes as passed Don.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" He asked her.

"No thank you" she replied politely shaking her head.

Don gave her a smile, before pouring a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. "I must apologise about Lisa she's usually on time with everything" he stated.

"Its fine" Cassie responded playing with her shirt sleeve.

"You know, we haven't had much of a chance to talk" Don stated as Cassie whipped her head to look at him. He had taken a step toward her. "I wonder what made a young and good looking girl like you want a baby" he stated.

Cassie baulked, maybe he was trying to be nice but the thought of an older man calling her good looking made her feel uneasy. "It wasn't planned" she replied in a small voice.

Don hummed. "When I was a kid, if you got a girl knocked up you were sent to the army as a punishment" he responded.

"Oh" CAssie replied unsure of what to say to him.

Don gave her a smile. "I never felt the baby kick" he stated taking another step to her. "Can I?" He asked gesturing to her stomach.

Cassie hesitated. "Well, I don't know" she responded not wanting to offend him.

Don scoffed taking another swig of his whiskey. "Women get so offended these days" he retorted.

Cassie bit her lip trying to not to spit a retort at him. "I'm not offered, I just think it might be weird" she responded.

"Why? I'm just seeing if my baby is okay" he pushed before coming to stop infront of her. "I just wanna know he is okay and being taken care of" he whispered the stench of whiskey filling her nose, as his hand caressed her cheek.

Cassie let out a small gasp and took a step back. "I think I should leave" she responded before turning on her heel, rushing passed an open door where Lisa stood in confusion.

"Cassie!" She called out as the young girl flew passed her.

Cassie rushed out into the hot summers air, thankful there was still some sunlight left as she waddled down their perfectly manicured lawn, trampling their flowers in a bid to get away. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to process whar had happened. This was the couple who she was about to give her baby too. Would he teach her son to behave that way?

The thought made bile rise to Cassies throat, before she leaned against a tree and vomited. She heard the faint sound of a car stopping in the distance, her palms became sweaty and her heart beat rapidly at the thought of the couple finding her.

"Cassie" a familiar voice stated. But she couldn't make put exactly who it was with the blood pumping in her ears.

"Go away" she croaked as tears streamed down her face.

"Cass, hey its me" the voice stated. "Its Billy" he urged as Cassie looked up to see blue eyes staring back at her.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked.

Billy's jaw clenched. "Came out for a drive my old man was driving me insane" he stated with an edge to his voice. "What happened?" He asked concerned lacing his voice as his eyebrows furrowed. "Cass, what the fuck happened? Did someone touch you?" He asked.

Cassie chocked back a sob, as a pain suddenly rippled through her stomach. She groaned as she gripped her bump and leaned forwards.

"I got you" she heard Billy whisper as he grabbed onto her forearms to stop her tumbling over. "Why are you here?" He asked.

Cassie gasped, the pain rippling through her. "To meet someone about the baby" she gasped through gritted teeth. "Fuck" she swore as liquid dripped down her legs.

"Cass, fuck what's going on?" Billy swore.

Cassie gasped once more before her eyes met Billy's. "I think my water just broke" she exclaimed as Billy widened his eyes. It was ironic how everything came full circle.

[deathfavor]

Anonymous said: “ tell me about your first kiss ?” Shalnark or machi ➡️ Chrollo Thank youuu

send 🍻 + a question for my muse's drunken (honest) answer

Pale cheeks dusted with color, Chrollo allows a gentle laugh when he hears Machi's question. It's such a silly, ordinary question that it feels like something to never be asked. Most of his spiders don't try to pry too much. They know what they happen to know, and that is all. If they happen to find something out, then they do. But few try to actively seek details out. He feels like a little kid again. He remembers how much some of them tried to tease each other over such topics.

Chrollo lifts the cup to his chest and feels the smooth slide of the alcohol down his throat as he casts an enlivened glance towards Machi. " Is this what you chat about with the others? " He asks, lips curved up. ( Probably, actually. He's well aware his spiders often speak of him but always in affection. Or occasional exasperation. )

" I was fourteen. " Chrollo answers, leaning back against the luxurious couch in the room, one leg crossed over the other in a picture of relaxation. " It was spontaneous. No dreaming about it or making a plan. It was just a spur of the moment feeling after a day playing in the summer heat. We found fresh fruit too, so we sat eating it as the sunlight faded. " There was an unspoken fact in that too ; all of them from Meteor City knew how rare fresh fruit was. It was something that happened only once or twice a year, a moment to be treasured. No wonder it had added to the spontaneous nature of the moment.

" I initiated it. I remember, it tasted like oranges. " Quiet laughter fills the air, a twinkle in grey eyes when he remembers it. It was a rare slice of openness that alcohol had allowed to shine through. " I can't say I actually felt anything. You know I've always been fond of books, and I'd recently finished a romantic piece. I suppose I was curious more than anything else. Neither of us had ever kissed someone before so it was rather clumsy." Really, whose wasn't though if neither party had ever kissed before? " It was just an innocent one, we both ended up laughing it off and nothing came of it. They disappeared a few months later. " That brings a solemn note, but it was a truth of their lives. Chrollo simply shrugs and then lifts his eyesbrows expectantly towards Machi. " Your turn Machi. If we're having gossip hours, I want to hear about yours too. "

[furashuban]

📱, 💕, 📷, 📖, ☠, 🎥, 📻, and 📸 but only if you're absolutely comfortable with it - no worries if you aren't :))

It's alright I'm totally cool with answering these, also I appreciate it a lot :>

📱 Show your phone lock screen and/or home screen

An intentionally low res image of this doggo.

For context my siblings and I decided to make all of our lock screens into random dog pictures just for the heck of it and is now kind of a vague inside joke we have sdfqfvw

For my home screen though, I'm actually unsure if I'm allowed to share it since it's art that I think was commissioned and by someone who wasn't me, so I'm a little afraid of inadvertedly reposting, but my home screen is essentially art of Johanna and Kaisa stargazing together drawn by @/blagzdeath

💕 Your two top fave fictional characters

Without question, Hilda is one of my most fav character at the moment and my absolute comfort character :> meanwhile my most fav fictional character of all time is Lotte Jansson from Little Witch Academia.

📷 Post the 12th photo from your phone’s gallery

It's a screenshot from the Mountain King trailer that makes me chuckle out of context sdfqdvqv

(this is like the 3rd answer in a row that's Hilda-related my hyperfixation is absolutely showing)

📖 Fave book

It changes over time but I'm gonna pick 2 for this one, being Harriet The Spy by Louise Fitzhugh and Aster and The Mixed-Up Magic by Thom Pico & Karensac! Both completely different plots but revolve around strong child protagonists and have an indescribably cozy vibe to them. Personally I don't think the Harriet novel is for everyone, but I ABSOLUTELY reccomend people check out the Aster graphic novels!

☠ Something that angers you

I wouldn't know where to begin honestly 'cause I'm hardly ever angry at things (or at least I try not to be). But what def comes to mind is people deliberately referring to me by my deadname or using the wrong pronouns for me, even worse when they already know I'm transfemme yet REFUSE to correct themselves once I point out how uncomfortable I am being misidentified. Same feeling goes for when I see this experience happen to my friends or strangers who are also trans/nonbinary. It's just a hurtful thing to go through and some people just don't care to realize how immense it is to be misidentified,,

🎥 Fave film

Like the book answer, I wanna pick 2 of my favorite films of all time. Those would be Hugo (2011) and Kiki's Delivery Service (1989), both films are very heart-warming coming-of-age stories that've never failed to make me euphoric and cozy out of all the countless times I've rewatched them and I totally reccomend them to people who haven't seen them yet :D

📻 Fave song currently

Home To Me by Devil and The Deep Blue Sea, it's a somft song with a catchy melody of string instrumentals, and the track itself is simply a raw recording of the artists' live performance which adds more to the charm. I also tend to listen to it when writing OC stories because it's got the perfect vibe for my drafts.

📸 Post a selfie

Another intentionally grainy pic (which is also my new pfp for Bandcamp) since I don't often take photos of myself I'm sorry,,

[yandere-daze]

i've been thinking of this scenario idea for a while so i wanted to share it with you, daze! okay, so...imagine the yandere knights darling asking ritsu to run away with them. out of all the knights, he seems like the one who has the most hesitance (? may be a weird word choice but i hope that makes sense) on wanting to share with the others so i think he would be a good character to choose for this idea (though it's okay to choose someone else for this!).

and, maybe before the darling was kidnapped (i'm imagining this as the darling already being captured, but you can change this if you want!), darling used to have (romantic) feelings for ritsu and still holds on to those feelings for him after. or, y'know, maybe darling has a ulterior motive because they know he isn't the most physically trained and thinks they have a better chance of escaping.

anyways, what do you think ritsu's reaction would be to this? or even the knights if they end up finding out? i can imagine ritsu at least thinking about the idea but have been mixed on what he would do next (*﹏*;) i hope you enjoy this little scenario idea of mine and hope it wasn't confusing in any way!

- 🗡️ anon (first day labeling myself as 🗡️ anon instead of just yandere knights anon, feels great lmfao ( ꈍᴗꈍ))

Ah hey there 🗡anon, I´m happy to see you here again! Honestly even as a writer it´s nice to see some familiar faces in my askbox from time to time ^^

As for your idea, I´d love to share some of my own thoughts as well! Don´t worry it wasn´t confusing at all and it was fun to think about! Just adding a picture because I think it looks prettier that way <3

gn reader

tw yandere, prior kidnapping, obsession, possessiveness

Yandere! Knights darling asks Ritsu to run away with them

I think you´re right when you say that Ritsu would probably be the best person to ask to run away with you out of all of the Knights. He´s not very happy with the current arrangement, only agreeing to it in the first place because there was reason for him to think that you might leave them all behind otherwise. He´s very possessive of you and doesn´t like it when the other members of Knights hang around you too much, he would much rather have you only pay attention to him and shower him in affection.

So when you come to him, all quietly, when he´s on his own and propose the idea of running away with him, he´s quite intrigued. Or pleased would be the better word. He´s even more on board with the idea when you tell him you love him dearly and can´t handle another day where you two can´t be together in peace.

“Please Ritsu, let´s run away from the others and start a new life somewhere else”, you beg him with a pleading look on your face. You´re nervous about how he may respond but your worries are quickly alleviated when he holds your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your forehead before answering you in a murmur.

“Hah, we won´t ever be separated again, right? I´ll finally be able to have you all to myself...”

Ritsu would be beyond happy, a soft smile on his face because he finally feels like his ideal future is within his reach: A peaceful life with just the two of you with no one else to bother you and where you only have each other and spend every single second together.

Soon enough, he won´t ever have to get upset when Leo interrupts your cuddling session with his loud voice, or when Tsukasa deems it improper for the both of you to be so close to each other. It will just be you and him.

Of course, actually getting away will be the most difficult part of this. It´s very rare that the two of you are ever alone together because the others just love crowding around you and taking up your precious time but at least that allows Ritsu to come up with a proper plan for your escape. He´s clearly not the fastest runner as he generally lacks the energy for that, so simply trying to make a run for it most likely would not work out. So instead, he needs to use his brain a bit to come up with some sort of distraction that would keep the other knights away for long enough to get away. Ritsu is actually pretty smart so with enough time he will come up with something

Soon enough, a new life will begin and it´s all in your hands what it´s going to be like. Do you still harbor some feelings for Ritsu even after the kidnapping and finding out about just how obsessed he is with you? Or have you long since fallen out of love for him and are instead just trying to use him to get away and then abandon him as well?

Be careful either way, Ritsu is good at reading people, especially his darling, so if you´re planning on abandoning him after you two got away, he´s most likely already aware and is thinking about what to do to keep you with him by force is necessary. So for your own benefit just love him back and allow yourself to be pulled into a blissful dream of adoration and endless affection that you won´t ever wake up from~

I don´t think I even need to mention that the other knights are super upset once they learn of this. Better hope they don´t find out about this in your planning face because the both of you would be punished for even thinking of running away ( though Ritsu would get the worse punishment because they don´t really like seeing you in pain).

If they only find out once you´re already gone, they will do anything in their power to get you back with them. Tsukasa uses all of his connections and the wealth of his family to send search troops all over the country to look for you while the others make posts about you on their social media, telling all of their adoring fans that you´ve gone missing and that they should come straight to them if they have any hints about your possible whereabouts.

Also, you better hope Izumi hasn´t installed a GPS tracker on you just yet, because if he has then there really is no way you´re going to get very far. No matter where you go, he´ll know where you are and they´ll all do absolutely anything to get you back in their arms

[coaldustcanary]

Hi! I saw in the tags of OTW's latest volunteer recruitment post that you were willing to talk about your experience as a support volunteer. I was wondering if I could hear a bit about your experience, or--if you've already discussed it on your blog--if you could point me towards where you've shared your experiences in the past. I'm considering volunteering myself but I'm not sure what to expect! Thanks in advance <3

Hi there. I do sometimes post a bit about my experiences in Support, but it's very piece-meal and there's probably not much of a coherent narrative anywhere. I'll try to sum up and give a brief overview, but feel free to ask questions about the things you're most curious about. (I'm also fine with DMs if you'd rather it be private.) I've been a Support volunteer for 6 years. I used to work in tech support professionally a few careers ago, and that's why I chose to volunteer in Support specifically, but that kind of experience is certainly not a pre-requisite to volunteering.

Our recent rounds of recruitment have been really successful so the Support team is bigger and better able to keep up with user requests than it ever has been, in my opinion. We've also really honed our training processes to make them more newbie-friendly. There's a fairly structured (but flexible to individual circumstances) training process set up that involves studying documentation, looking back on our archives of responses to users, and considering the kinds of questions that users ask to develop good answers, with the assistance of senior volunteers. You will not be turned loose and expected to figure things out on your own. If you are leaning toward volunteering, I think there's really no better time for it.

On the other hand, I do think having a certain willingness to dig in and research and test and ask around when it comes to coming up with a good answer for users is important. Many issues users have are either common or the solution is well-documented or both, so replying is not hard, but others are very much a puzzle to work through that needs a lot of investigating. You'll always have the assistance of other volunteers, especially as a new recruit, but a certain level of being a "self-starter" and curiosity is a big help.

There are more than 900 volunteers in the organization, all around the world, involved in a lot of aspects of keeping AO3 and the OTW going. Support itself is very much global. Support works closely with multiple other parts of the organization - AD&T (the coding folks), Policy and Abuse, Communications, Legal, and Tag Wrangling are the ones we work with the most, but it could be any or all of them, and that means learning about how a lot of other pieces of the organization works over time.

For me, that's been hugely worthwhile. I feel like I'm able to give back to fandom in a way that I'm good at and help people using AO3 get the site to work the way they want, whether by documenting a tricky bug or helping a new user reset their password.

But I can't deny that there are times it frustrates me - I don't agree with every policy decision the OTW and AO3 have ever made, I don't agree with my fellow volunteers on every little thing, and sometimes we get Support requests full of attitude, rudeness, or entitlement that drive me nuts. And that's honestly OK. That said, I've volunteered for a wide variety of non-profits in my life (schools, community service organizations, churches) and aside from the fact that it is *entirely* web-based, being a Support volunteer for AO3 is not much different from my experiences in those other contexts.

Despite the fact that my volunteering time is far more limited these days than I would wish, I wouldn't give it up for anything; I get back from it (the satisfaction, the social aspects) a lot more than I probably put in, to be honest.

So, this has been an attempt at a big picture overview of how I feel about volunteering and what it's like for me - if you want more specific information I'm more than happy to answer more specific questions, or if you were interested in more of a "what exactly do you do when you volunteer" I can try to talk a bit about the broad kinds of user requests we answer and a bit about what our process is like.

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

[headinthestaticsky]

The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 1

Summary: It was time for Fleur Swan to become Fleur Hale/Whitlock. She has started to adjust to the lifestyle of a vegetarian vampire as well as her powers, which she seems to develop a new one once in a while. But what happens when something happens that none of the Cullens are prepared for.

"Nature will get her way Though you took her for a fool Walking on the lake Frozen under you."

Run Cried the Crawling by, Anges Obel

When Bella got home from Vegas with Edward at her side it was the most pissed off my dad had ever been at her. He knew she would throw out the "I'll move away." Card on him but he wasn't fazed by it anymore. She was married, and a adult... he couldn't stop her. It was satisfying to see dad finally stand up to her, letting go of the fear of losing her. Bella eventually developed a guilty look on her face while Edward tensed by her side. She decided that she would have her honeymoon after Jasper and I got married, since dad would know we would both be out of the house. It confused me since she would have to wait 5 months just to go on her honeymoon, it also delayed her changing into a vampire. Since they both agreed to do it on there honeymoon.

Regarding me however my eyes are still a dark red rose color, which completely puzzled the Cullens. It confused me as well...knowing that after a year of transformation my eyes should be golden by now. I had never drunken an once of human blood but, my eyes were just as red as they were when I first turned. My blood lust got a lot better and I was beginning to gain control of my powers. It turns out I am also a shape shifter in a sense... I can transform myself into anyone I wanted to be. Things seemed to have calmed down it was nice to have a moment of serenity.

I stood in my room which was now void of my items being out on display. They were instead all in boxes stacked up on top of each other. Dad helped me out earlier in the day, it was nice to spend so one-on-one time with him while I still lived here. Bella was packing up too, excited to finally leave the house and become a vampire. She wouldn't let dad help her out however and spent her time locked up in her room. Probably waiting for Edward to enter and talk with her. I just sat down on my bed looking at my surroundings when I heard Jasper enter through my window.

"I was waiting for you to show up." I said grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.

"Mmm, hello to you too." Jasper said.

"You're not going to believe who accepted my RVSP'd to the wedding..."

"Who is it?"

"My mom, her new husband is coming with her too."

"I hope they won't cause any trouble." Jasper grumbled.

"Well... the last thing I said to her was when I moved back down here when I was 15...I told her that next time I see her would be at my wedding. I then told her that she would enjoy the the open bar and her speech for me would be her barfing all over the place. So umm... be prepared for that to happen." I explained trying to hold in a laugh at the face Jasper made.

"Damn love...you're brutal sometimes."

"Thank you... that is so sweet to say!"

"You better get down to our place... Alice and Rosalie are waiting for you so they can throw you a Bachelorette party."

"Yeah... they'll probably break the house trying to get to me." I said and then began to laugh.

"Have fun darlin." Jasper said softly.

"You too, if Emmett, Edward, and Dean got you a stripper I will murder all of them."

"Don't worry about that darlin, we're merely going out to the woods to hunt bears... maybe a few mountain lions. Besides Edward won't be there anyway"

"Oh fun...wait, Edward won't be there?"

"Yeah... it seems he still holds a grudge after I called him a boy before the battle."

"Only a boy would be offended by that." I said

"I better go love you." Jasper replied and pecked my cheek.

"Love you too." I did the same thing, pecking his cheek. He left a few seconds afterward leaving me alone. I pulled on pair of boots and ran downstairs.

"I'll see you later dad, Rose and Alice are throwing me a little party."

"Alright Petal, love you."

"Love you too!"

I arrived at the Cullen's house in record time, my tracking ability had improved greatly. I zoomed up to the door and before I could open it Rosalie, Esme, Bree, and Alice stood there with excited smiles on their faces.

"The party has arrived." I said jokingly.

They all laughed and ushered me into the lounge room.

Bree had been living with us ever since the end of the battle, she struggled to conform to the diet after living off of human blood so long and she couldn't leave the house much since she was presumed dead. But Jasper has been helping her out a lot.

"I can't wait to see what you did with the venue outside... can I take a look?"

"No, you may not, Rosalie and I all agreed that you shouldn't see it until tomorrow. It'll be great with the pictures."

"Okay okay... is the dress finished?"

"Yes, now that you can see." Rosalie said, dragging me down to her room. A large vanity was set up with hundreds of makeup products. I turned around and saw my dress... it was beautiful.

(I know the dresses aren't exactly the same but just pretend the one showing off the back of the dress has sleeves haha.)

a"Oh my gosh Rose, you know my style so well."

"You're going to look beautiful tomorrow." Esme said, her gracious smile still on her face.

"Thank you guys so much... for everything."

"No problem Fleur, I can't wait for you to officially be a part of the family." Alice replied.

"So, how is everything back at home?" Rosalie said, already playing with my hair.

"It's tense...dad's pissed at Bella, Bella is pissed at dad. I still can't believe she actually eloped."

"Doesn't surprise me any... Bella's priorities have certainly changed." Alice grumbled.

"Yeah... not gonna lie though Alice they've always been like that, she just hid it from you guys pretty well."

"Yeah... I guess so." Alice said disappointment was on her face.

"Let's talk about something else...Fleur, did Jasper tell you where you two were going for your honeymoon?"

"No... he wants it to be a surprise, I can't wait to see where we're going."

"I'm sure it's going to be fun." Alice said, nudging me playfully.

"If I could blush right now, I would." I said.

Timeskip: The next day.

"Rosalie this is like we rehearsed it... smile and don't kill my mother." I reminded her.

"I'll try my best... Why does Bella have to be a bridesmaid again?" She said, brushing back my long black hair.

"Because I don't need my mother talking my ear off saying how selfish I am."

I saw Alice shake her head before going back to steaming my dress in the background.

"Fleur, Rosalie? Where are you guys?" I heard my dad call out.

"In here dad!" I called back.

"Renee get your butt up here your daughter is getting married. Get over this stupid grudge." I heard dad yell. Rosalie, Alice, and I all laughed.

"Aww, you look beautiful Petal." Dad said, smiling at me. I said Renee in the background she had a shocked look on her face.

"Thanks, Dad, you can thank Rosalie and Alice for all of this. Mom? You gonna come over? I'm not infected with anything you know."

She scoffed and walked up to me, we both gave each other fake smiles.

"Did you get plastic surgery? Your face looks... I don't know more sculpted." She said.

"No mother I just aged... the last time you saw me I was 15, I'm 20 now." I lied, everyone knew most vampires' facial features perfected when fully changed. But I couldn't exactly tell her that.

"Okay..." She said in a skeptical voice. I heard Rosalie growl behind me.

"Renee knock it off." Dad said he had a curt look on his face.

"Well since it's your wedding day we thought you needed something blue." Renee started, her face didn't look too happy.

"And something old, besides your mother." Dad joked, Rosalie and Alice let out a chuckle.

"Nice Charlie," Renee said rolling her eyes.

Dad then opened a jewelry box that had a hairpiece in it. I knew it was grandma swans.

"It was Grandma Swans, I added the Sapphires though, I thought it matched your ring pretty well. When the time comes around you can give it to your daughter." Dad said he handed it to Rosalie so she could put it in my hair.

"Aww thank you so much dad." I said I was lucky I didn't have my dress on yet so I could hug him.

"Should've saved this for Bella." Renee grumbled quitely.

"Oh no I forgot her veil, Rose could you come with me?" Alice asked.

Rosalie hesitated before answering.

"Sure..." They walked out a few seconds later.

"So... you stuck true to your guns. I didn't see you until your wedding day." Dad just looked at the two of us and walked out.

"Yep."

"How many men did you date before you got engaged to this one. I know how bored you can get." Renee said, implying I sleep around a lot.

"He's the first and only man I've dated." Renee's reflection was shocked in the mirror.

"Well... I knew my Bella would do that but... not, you." She said in a condescending voice.

"You have no idea what Bella has done."

"So who is he?" Renee said, ignoring my previous statement.

"His name is Jasper and he's an amazing, kind human being." I answered back, pride-filled my voice. I could suddenly feel Bella's presence behind the wall in the other room listening in on us.

"Sure... we all know women like you say that when the men have slept with you."

"You're childish insults do not bother me anymore mother."

"What childish insults? I'm stating facts." Renee said, acting innocent.

"Yeah, facts you convinced yourself are true."

"All I know is if my Bella wouldn't gotten married so young. So let's cut to the chase how far along are you?"

'I'm not pregnant Renee, I need to go help Rose and Alice find that veil." I got up to walk away when I got an idea.

"Oh by the way, Bella got married at nineteen in Vegas."

Renee just stood there in shock. I smiled in satisfaction.

"Enjoy the open bar!"

[delaber]

Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)

Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs

Note: Guys! When I wrote Three-Point Perspective, I wasn’t planning on adding a second part to it but the amount of support was so overwhelming that I just had to do a sequel ...And let me tell you; I am so glad you guys wanted it because this was so much fun! I have never been more challenged with a story-line, portraying emotions, changing perspectives, and just the plot in general. I have never never never changed a story-line as much as I did for this one, haha! Crazy amounts of shout-outs and thanks to my amazing mate @einfachniemand​ for listening to countless of ideas, for feedback on several snippets, for being supportive af, and for telling me “yeah, no, that doesn’t work. Back to the drawing board.” Thank you boo! You are amazing! A huge thanks to @theatrenerd86​ for starting off this sequel by providing the settings - and for just being the most supportive human being ever! Mwah! Also a huge thanks to the rest of you for your endless support! I love this community! (Oh, and anon; thanks for the (quite old, sorry) prompt but I didn’t do it for Rafa (sorry once again)). Let me know what you guys think!

Words: 13.8K

Warnings: Oh my goodness, I don’t even wanna get started... Blood, heartbreak, angst (my three tropes)

Rafael

Rafa almost tripped over his own two feet as he stumbled over to the bar and desperately ordered a large whiskey shooter. He was having a hard time keeping calm; his heart was beating fast in his chest, his throat closing in on itself, his hairline soaked in panic-sweat. He needed to put what had just happened in the very seat he was standing in front of at a distance. His hands were still itching to punch something! He needed the fucking drink!

The bartender had barely stopped pouring Maker's Mark into a small glass before Rafa quickly grabbed it and chugged its contents down his throat, desperately trying to block out what he had just witnessed.

Your tongue in his best friend's ear.

Diggs' hand sliding up your thigh.

The sensual smile you'd worn as Diggs had whispered promising words in your ear.

"Oh god," Rafa groaned as he recalled your excited smile as his best friend had escorted you out of the bar, his hand dipping uncomfortably low on your hips.

Desperately clutching the now empty whiskey glass, Rafa tried relentlessly to push away the image of what you and Diggs probably were in the midst of doing right now. Oh shit, oh no... His chest was stinging, his stomach aching horribly at the thought of you and Diggs fucking. Oh god. He tried to shift his focus to the burning sensation down his esophagus instead and quickly ordered another shooter.

It didn't take long before the bartender had placed another glass of golden-brown liquid in front of him that he quickly downed in one go, thinking about how stupid he was for not having acted on his feelings for you earlier. He had had eight fucking years to do so after all?! Why the fuck hadn't he just pulled himself together and called you up?! He wanted to punch something! He wanted to get fucked up! He wanted to call someone and get them to deliver a big fucking bag of blow - but he settled on a third shooter.

He gulped down the whiskey as the aggression subsided and was replaced by the same type of jealousy-induced heartburn that he had felt earlier that night. Fucking Daveed Diggs and the way he always seemed to be able to wrap women around his little finger! In eight minutes, he had managed to do to you what Rafa hadn't managed to do for eight years. Fuck him!

A fourth whiskey went down Rafa's throat as the jealousy was replaced by hurtful pangs in his chest; shit it hurt to think about you and Diggs together. Rafa knew that you had had a few men in your life since the summer in the taco truck, and even though it had stung to see pictures of your romances on Instagram, it didn't hurt half as much as seeing his best friend escort you out of the bar.

He ordered another whiskey. And another one after that. And then an entire bottle of Jameson just to recall the taste of your lips that night on top of the skate ramps all those years ago. Quickly, Rafa gulped down most of the bottle, his eyes watering from the sharp taste of alcohol on his tongue, but no matter how much he drank, he still wasn't able to get image of you and Diggs out of his head. It had etched itself on the back of his eyelids, somehow becoming clearer and clearer with every gulp of fiery liquid.

It didn't take long before he had reached the half-way mark on the bottle of Jameson, completely lost in constantly checking his phone to see if you had tried to contact him to tell him that Diggs by some miracle had blown his shot. You hadn't. And even though Rafa doubted that you would, he still couldn't put the phone away.

He was fumbling about on the screen as he accidentally found Diggs' name on the list of contacts. Completely lost in contemplating whether or not he should call him up and tell him to stay the fuck away from you, he jumped a little when he suddenly felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For about a mili-second, Rafa believed that the soft touch belonged to you, but as soon as he had whipped around in his seat, he felt the disappointment cloud his mind as he was met by his make-up artist Janelle instead. "Oh, hey," he spoke in an uninterested tone of voice, his words a little slurred from the amount of whiskey he'd been drinking.

"Rafa, honey, are you okay?" She looked at him with kind eyes, "you seem a little out of it."

"I'm great," he slurred into his whiskey glass before emptying it for what felt like the 100th time that night, "I'm fucking perfect! This night's just absolutely fucking perfect."

Janelle furrowed her brows and pushed the bottle of Jameson out of Rafa's reach, "is it because of Daveed and -"

"- DON'T say her name," Rafa warned, his voice turning to a low drunk growl afterwards, "I don't want to think about it."

Janelle sat down on the empty barstool next to him and sent him a slow nod, "yeah, I was afraid this might happen..." she sighed and sent him a pitiful look.

"That what might happen?" Rafa drunkenly mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Honey... I've seen the way you look at her," Janelle whispered and reassuringly put her hand on Rafa's arm as she searched his face for any kind of affirmation. Rafa groaned and met her eyes shortly before she softly added, "- and I've seen the way Daveed looks at her too."

Rafa gulped to keep the slowly forming lump in this throat at bay, "...so you don't think it's just a one-night thing?" He croaked in a small whisper, the pain in his chest suddenly twice as hurtful as before.

Janelle shook her head slowly, shooting Rafa a careful look.

"And - uhm," Rafa cleared his throat "- do you think that - uh - she's into him as well?" He added in a whisper, his face involuntarily screwed up as he was afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, honey," Janelle said diplomatically and pulled him in for a tight hug, inaudibly giving away that she definitely thought so. Rafa appreciated Janelle's attempt to salvage the situation and let her comfort him for a couple of seconds before she slowly let go of him again, sending him a heartfelt look in the process. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No..." Rafa mumbled and reached for the bottle that Janelle had pushed away moments before.

She grabbed his arm and forced it down in his lap instead, "why don't you leave the bottle and instead call it a night, boo? You've been drinking quite a lot already."

Rafa gulped a little and realised that she was right. Nothing good would come from sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in cheap whiskey. "Yeah," he groaned as he ran a hand through his damp hair, "yeah... You're right. Might be a good idea..."

"Go grab your jacket. I'll call you a cab, okay?"

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled before scrambling to his feet, swaying a little from side to side. He managed to balance himself and stagger over to the coat check where he retrieved his leather jacket and slowly pulled it on with great difficulty.

"I got you," Janelle was suddenly behind him, helping him pull the jacket up his arms.

"Thanks," Rafa mumbled as he pulled on the collar to rearrange the leather over his shoulders.

"You wanna say bye to the rest of the crew?" Janelle piped from behind him.

He shot a quick glance across the room and towards the table that his friends were occupying. "I better set an example," he mumbled even though he'd rather be sitting in a cab on his way home right now.

With his arm around Janelle, and her hand on his chest to steady him, Rafa walked over to his co-stars, putting up his best attempt at a cheerful smile, "I'm off guys. Have a lovely evening," he slurred drunkenly.

He thought to himself that he was doing a tremendous job of hiding away his hurt feelings until he noticed their stiff smiles. Suddenly, he realised by the sympathetic looks they were all shooting him from their seats, that they were well-aware of what was going on. Rafa quickly scanned their silent, pained faces one by one until Alessandro - one of the leads - finally spoke up, "see you Monday boss!"

Annoyed with their pitiful eyes, Rafa mumbled a, "see you Monday, bruh," and turned around, facing Janelle again as the others awkwardly looked away. It made him feel stupid.

"Cab's outside," Janelle tried to smile and pulled him in for a hug, "are you going to be okay, boo?"

"I don't know," Rafa croaked truthfully against her neck and let her pull him just a little closer.

"Call me tomorrow, okay?" She let go of him, "We'll do something fun."

"Okay," Rafa slurred, his eyes stinging as he turned away from her and towards the exit.

Slowly, he stumbled out of the bar and hopped into the yellow cab outside, closing his eyes desperately in the backseat, trying to block out any thought of you and Diggs but failing horribly. The ride home was the longest drive of Rafa's life, his thoughts sporadic and unorganised but all centred around the same thing: what would he come home to? Had you and Diggs gone to your place? Or to Diggs' place that he just happened to share with Rafa? Fuck, he almost couldn't bear the thought of coming home to meet Diggs balls deep in you on the couch. Rafa would never purposely punch Diggs, but if he came home to face that, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back his itching fist.

"He's your best friend," Rafa mumbled to himself as a reminder, hoping to calm himself down, "he's your best friend. He didn't know. He's innocent... - well apart from fucking your girl..."

Everything inside him was on fire.

"You alright back there, mate?" The cab driver shot Rafa a look in the rear-view mirror, apparently concerned about the whispered words, he'd heard coming from the backseat.

"Yeah," Rafa replied unenthusiastically, a little annoyed that everybody seemed to be so concerned with him - but he eventually stopped thinking out loud.

For the remainder of the trip, the driver kept his mouth shut too but annoyingly enough constantly checked in on Rafa in the rear-view mirror.

Rafa was relieved when the driver finally pulled over outside his home and paid him quickly, slamming the car door shut with much force, hoping to alleviate some of the all-consuming itch that he felt deep in his bones. Little did it help. He still wanted to punch something.

Rafa turned his attention towards the house and gave out a short sigh before he started swaying up the paved pathway in the small yard, briefly stopping before he reached the front door. He prayed that you had taken Diggs to your place and not the other way around. He couldn't handle being faced with his worst nightmare - and especially not after having had so much to drink. Right now, he couldn't account for how he'd react.

He stood with his key in hand for a while, scared of what might come, but eventually realised that he would have to go inside at some point. With a deep sigh, he slowly slid his key in the lock and turned it around, his palms sweating terribly. He felt his heart sinking down to the bottom of his stomach when the key didn't meet any kind of resistance, and he realised that the door was already unlocked.

Fuck... Diggs had taken you here.

With a burning sensation in his chest, Rafa quietly pushed open the front door and stepped inside the small hallway, closing the door behind him with a small thump. He closed his eyes and threw his head up against the wooden door, forcing himself to relax by taking three deep breaths - a technique he had learned from his mother when he had been nervous about doing spoken words for the first time at fifteen.

He focused on his breathing for a few seconds and after having exhaled a third time - already more relaxed than before - he opened his eyes and took in the room. He immediately saw that the floor of the narrow hallway was decorated with several pieces of discarded garments strewn randomly about on the stone floor.

Diggs' pants. Your dress. Your bra.

"No..." Rafa groaned quietly as he took in the pieces of clothes with a hard gulp, the tears stinging in his eyes when he realised what he was being confronted with. "No, no, no!" he buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath to get himself under control again. His entire chest was on fire, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. Everything around him went quiet as he heaved in a big gulp of air, wishing that he had stayed sober tonight. This was all getting too much; he couldn't control it. He was too drunk.

He took another big gulp of air, and was just about to slowly exhale when a soft sound hit his ear canal... It was coming from the other room.

A moan.

A sweet, heartfelt, sensual moan.

From a woman - from you...

It was the result of a sincere reaction to something that had brought you immense pleasure. A moan that someone else had brought to your lips. A moan that Rafa's best friend had brought to your lips.

Fuck! The itch in his hands that he had felt for quite some time now suddenly became too much and he punched the wall hard, causing an old, framed picture of him and Diggs to fall down, the frame shattering in several pieces on the cold stone floor. He stared at the broken shards of glass for a few seconds, torturing himself by carefully listening for more of your sweet moans echoing throughout the house.

They didn't come, however. The entire house was suddenly completely silent. Thank god.

Slowly, Rafa squatted down to brush the glass-dust off your dress, the silky fabric soft between his fingertips as he pulled the dress to his chest, thinking about what it would feel like to be the one to pull it off you.

Without warning, however, the silence in the hallway was broken by another loud moan coming from Diggs' personal space and Rafa was quickly brought out of his trance. He had to get out of there! He would go to a hotel or something! Anything to get away from the sounds you were making for another man!

Slightly panicked, Rafa shuffled to get to his feet, but overbalanced and fell forwards, his left hand immediately softening the blow as a reflex. From the moment his palm hit the floor, Rafa felt a sharp pain in his hand, but didn't realise that he had cut himself before he rotated his elbow and saw the huge piece of broken glass that was prodding out of his palm. "You're kidding me," he groaned as he tried to focus on the glass shard before he grabbed it tightly and forcefully pulled it out of his skin, the warm blood immediately running down his hand as a terribly sharp pain started pulling at his fingers. "OH FUCK!" he exclaimed a little louder than he had intended to, unable to hold back in his inebriated state.

Pressing in on the wound to try and get it to stop bleeding, he hurried to the bathroom and quickly located an old towel that he wrapped tightly around his bloody hand. "Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" He groaned loudly and slid down the wall, his ass hitting the cold floor with a small thump. He could hear hushed voices coming from Diggs' personal space next door, and he realised that he had no idea what hurt the most; the thought of you lying in there wearing nothing but your panties, or his throbbing hand that had already bled through the old towel.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he replaced the old piece of cloth with a clean one, "ah fuck it hurts!" He hissed and tried to push the wound shut to get it to stop bleeding. It helped for a few seconds before the gash opened back up, fresh blood spilling out again. Just looking at it made him dizzy, and he realised that he couldn't handle this on his own. He was too drunk. He needed help. Embarrassed by himself and the situation he had put himself in, he took a deep breath before calling out the name of the last person on earth he wanted to see right now, "DIGGS!"

The hushed voices from the other side of the wall died down completely. They'd heard him. Still, there was no response to his cry for help. Meanwhile, the second towel around his hand was soaked through as well. What if he was about to bleed out? What if he was spending his last moments, pathetically heartbroken on his own bathroom floor?

"DIGGS!" he tried again, this time a little more panic to his voice.

The entire house was quiet still, and Rafa listened intently for few seconds before he finally heard an angry voice calling from the other side of the wall. "WHAT?"

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa called back, embarrassment flooding his voice.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Diggs bellowed back. Rafa had never heard him sound so annoyed before.

"Come on, man... I'm serious," Rafa let out a loud groan as he took in the bloody rag that was wrapped around his hand.

He heard cursing and shuffling on the other side of the wall and a few seconds later, the door to the bathroom finally swung open, revealing a very annoyed Daveed Diggs who was trying to hide away his boxer-clad erection with the palm of his hand.

Upon seeing how Diggs was already hard and ready to fuck Rafa's girl, there was no doubt: The pain in Rafa's chest definitely exceeded the pain in his hand.

Daveed

Daveed could not believe how lucky he was! He had barely closed the front door behind him before you had pulled him in for a string of sensual kisses in the dark. His lips were moving fiercely against your warm skin, your head lolling backwards as you panted and let him press you up against the wall in the hallway. He loved the sensation of your fingers tangled in his long hair as he attacked your neck and jawline with rough, affectionate kisses. You let out a small impatient pant as he untied the bow at the side of your dress, giving himself easier access to your beautiful build underneath as the dress opened up completely.

"Fuck, you look absolutely amazing," he cupped your ass and pressed his pelvis closer to you with a groan.

Your small fingers desperately undid the buttons of his shirt and Daveed quickly shrugged it off, finally standing in front of you in nothing but his dark blue slacks. His lips quickly resumed their positions on your neck where he immediately started sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin while running his hands all over your torso.

Your fingers desperately found the button of his slacks and Daveed felt the tight sensation of his pants against his crotch disappearing slightly as you brought down the zipper and slid the slacks over his hips. Your small hand was palming him through the cotton of his boxers, and he couldn't stop the groan that fought its way all the way from his stomach and up his throat. He heard you chuckling incredulously above him as you let your dress fall to the ground before you dropped down to your knees in front of him, determinedly pulling his boxers down over his thighs.

Daveed's mind went completely blank when he felt your hand cup his balls while your wet mouth found the tip of his straining erection. Your warm breath against him had him let out an involuntary groan, and when your plump lips kissed his engorged head, the sensation sent a shiver all the way up his spine. He pulled your hair away from your face and held it in a loose ponytail on the back of your head, your eyes interlocking with his in the process. Even though you had him between your teeth, the submissive look you sent him had him feeling incredibly in control! Without giving up eye contact, you kissed his head twice before placing a long, wet lick at the tip of his erection, immediately sending hard vibrations throughout his entire body. "Fuck," he groaned and caressed the side of your face when you wrapped your lips tightly around his head, sucking a bit at the tip.

"Mmmh, pull my hair!" you panted around him and he immediately tugged on the ponytail, buckling his hips closer to your face, desperate to feel the ecstasy of warm, wet, tightness around him again. To Daveed's relief you immediately obliged and slid your lips almost all the way down to his base and back up again, releasing him with a small pop.

"Oh fuck!" He let out a groan as he looked down into your huge, submissive eyes, slowly stroking your cheek. You repeated your motions, your tongue wet and soft against him as you bopped your mouth along his length, his hips meeting you half-way, "yeah, that's it, baby, just like that," he panted softly as you kept gazing up at him, upping the tempo and bringing him all the way down your throat with a slight gag, reminding him of how big he was.

Daveed had received many blowjobs over the years but never in his life had he felt more worshipped and desired! You were massaging his balls lovingly as you brought his length down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and making him feel completely taken care of as you focused solely on his pleasure and enjoyment.

He was just about to let go and cum down your tight throat before he reminded himself that he'd have to take it easy if he wanted to last long enough to fuck you. And holy shit, how he wanted to fuck you! He knew he was very good with his hips and hands and he wanted to bring you pleasures that you'd never even dared dreaming of before.

It was hard to do, but eventually he managed to pull himself out of your wet mouth and you to your feet with a gruff, "come here!". He unclasped your bra and tossed it aside before he pushed you up against the wall, took your nipple in his mouth, and ran his fingers along your lace-covered folds. You let out a soft gasp and he repeated the motions of his fingers while attacking your neck and throat with toothy kisses. You were panting and moaning underneath him, your hand still stroking his erection lovingly.

"Okay, okay, okay, you gotta stop," he licked the shell of your ear with a low chuckle, "I still have so many things I want to do to you," he smacked your ass and you let out a small whimper when his palm came in to contact with your skin.

Slowly, you let go of him and carefully caressed his abs instead as he re-claimed your lips. The kiss was deep and soft, and it made the straining sensation in Daveed's erection even more unbearable, but he was patient enough to not touch himself.

After a few minutes of intense, passionate kissing, you pulled your face away from his and looked up at him with a dark look in your eyes, "well, are you going to do something about it? Or are you going to just leave it at talking?" You chuckled against his skin.

"Don't get cocky with me," Daveed smiled and hoisted you up in his arms. You let out a small yelp, but still threw your legs around his waist and let him carry you to his bedroom while licking his ear. He carefully positioned you with your back against the mattress of his bed and hovered above you as he put his lips to your collarbone, slowly kissing his way down between your breasts, over your stomach, and stopping when he reached the top of your panties. He sat himself down on his knees in front of you, sending you a hungry look as he ran his fingers over your body. You looked him square in the eye and raked a hand through his curls, pulling his head back slightly. The anticipating look you were sending him made his erection twitch between his legs, but he still didn't touch it. Instead, he licked his lips and kissed the laces between your legs. "I love this colour on you," he growled against the thin fabric. He could feel you shiver underneath him as he pulled the red laces down your well-shaped legs, caressing your inner thighs lovingly. "Mmh," he hummed as you spread your legs for him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. Your chest was heaving up and down in a slow, steady rhythm as he placed small kisses on your skin, his tongue just barely grazing you. He enjoyed the way you closed your eyes and dipped your head low as he repeated this motion a few times.

Slowly, he slipped his tongue inside your folds, your lips gently spreading for him as he tasted you. You gasped slightly when he reached your clit and gave it a small flick before he slowly ran his tongue over you again. You were panting above him, your fingers caressing his scalp as your face was screwed up in pleasure. Daveed couldn't look away even if he wanted to!

He caressed the back of your legs with his hands before he had his fingers join his tongue at your core. Slowly, he inserted a finger into your wet heat and was rewarded with a deep moan escaping your lips. Desperate to hear you again, he inserted yet another finger, letting his digits and tongue work in unison until you finally let out another deep moan.

He could tell you were close to letting go completely, and it was all working out so nicely, your chest heaving up and down faster and faster as you moaned loudly for him, your nails finding their way to his scalp, pulling his face closer to you - when clash!

Out of nowhere, a loud shatter was heard from somewhere in the house. It sounded like glass breaking, but Daveed was used to Rafa's clumsy ass, so he ignored what he assumed was his best friend returning home after his night out.

Daveed did, however, feel you freeze slightly underneath him, and you pulled back the moan that had been just about to escape your lips and replaced it with a, "what was that?!" a slight panic to your voice.

"Relax, it's probably just Rafa," Daveed whispered and resumed his movements.

"What's he doing here?" You panted slightly but not as sensually as before.

"He lives here," Daveed growled against your skin, annoyed by the fact that your attention was suddenly directed at his best friend instead of the very pleasurable things he knew he was doing. To make sure that you forgot about Rafa, Daveed brought out the big guns and put his lips around your clit, vibrating them while his fingers worked their way in and out of you. It worked expertly, and it didn't take him long before he'd earned himself another loud moan coming from you. You looked as if you were completely lost in the sensations, he was causing you - but not for long, because suddenly a loud "OH FUCK!" from Rafa rang throughout the house. It was followed by hurried footsteps as Rafa ran to the bathroom that was located next to Daveed's personal space.

Daveed felt you shuffle underneath him as you put your weight on your elbows and closed your legs slightly, craning your neck as you looked towards the wall that Daveed's personal space shared with the bathroom. You had a concerned look in your eyes that Daveed chose to ignore. Instead, he kept going with his fingers and tongue, but you weren't moaning anymore.

"Shit! Oh fuck that hurts!" Rafa exclaimed loudly from the other side of the wall.

"Don't you think you should go check on him?" You asked quietly, your eyes still glued to the wall.

"No," Daveed said curtly, and tried to get you to lie back down again so he could continue. You didn't budge, however. You were more interested in the loud groan that was escaping Rafa. You let out a nervous laugh as you once again heard him cuss and groan from the next room.

"Ignore him," Daveed panted as he spread your legs apart again, his tongue immediately finding your core, and he was rewarded with a gasp from you. He had just started moving his fingers inside you again when he heard Rafa call his name loudly from the other side of the wall.

"DIGGS!"

Daveed froze for about a mili-second before deciding to ignore Rafa and continue moving his fingers inside you instead.

"Go talk to him," you chuckled and raked a hand through his hair, suddenly totally unaffected by his movements,

"He can wait. I'm far too busy," Daveed let his tongue run over you again, once more losing himself in your wonderful wetness.

Rafa however, pulled him back to reality by yelling out his name a second time, "DIGGS!!" causing you to slightly close your legs one more time.

"You're kidding me..." Daveed muttered under his breath as his face was forced away from your wet centre. "WHAT?" he ended up bellowing back to his best friend on the other side of the wall.

"Diggs, I need your help!" Rafa kept calling.

"I'm kind of busy in here, Rafa!" Daveed bellowed while looking into your amused eyes.

You were chuckling slightly, "he needs you. Don't you think you better...?" You sent Daveed a charming grin while nodding towards the door, "he sounds quite drunk..."

Daveed shot you a pained look.

"Go," you chuckled, "I'll still be ready for you in here when you come back. Don't worry."

"Come on man... I'm serious," Rafa bellowed through the wall.

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed groaned in an annoyed tone of voice and got up on his feet with a loud groan. He quickly located a pair of boxers and packed away his erection before storming out of the room, closing the door to his personal space shut behind him.

He found Rafa sitting up against the wall in the bathroom, his eyes swimming with alcohol. "What, bruh?!" Daveed demanded as he locked eyes with him, "what's so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"...Were you sleeping?" Rafa slurred while looking like a total fucking idiot as his drunk eyes scanned Daveed from head to toe.

"Of course I wasn't sleeping! I was in the middle of eating pussy when you ruined it!"

Rafa looked as if he was about to throw up, "...you're about to fuck her?" He slurred.

"Yes?! So make whatever you want to say quick, 'cause I got a soaking wet woman waiting for me on my bed!"

Rafa looked up at Daveed with a pained expression but kept his silence.

"I swear to god, if you don't speak up now and tell me what the hell made you call me out here, I'll kick your ass!"

Rafa sighed heavily, looking as if he was about to tell Daveed someone else's secret but eventually croaked, "I hurt myself," while holding up his left hand that was wrapped sloppily in a blood-soaked towel.

First then, did Daveed notice that there were several splodges of blood on the bathroom floor. It made him drop the attitude slightly, "Jesus fuck Rafa, what the hell did you do?" He groaned and crouched down next to him on the floor.

"I knocked down the frame in the hallway," Rafa slurred and let Daveed examine the deep cut in the palm of his hand, "cut myself on the glass."

"You did a thorough job," Daveed mumbled with a sigh as he lifted the towel to check out the gash that was still bleeding heavily, "come here, run some water on it. I'll find some bandages." Daveed turned on the faucet and helped Rafa find his balance as he quickly pulled him to his feet. He could tell that Rafa was struggling to stand still as he swayed back and forth while leaning in over the sink, playing a bit with the jet of water. Daveed sent him an annoyed glance; he did not have time for this! "How much did you have to drink after I left?" he asked, the irritation practically oozing out of him as he looked for the first-aid kit in one of the cabinets.

"I dunno," Rafa mumbled sleepily as he watched the water clean the blood away from his hand, "a lot?"

"Yeah, so I'd guessed," Daveed mumbled to himself as he located the first aid kit and quickly pulled out a couple of rolls of gauze. "Come over here," he urged Rafa to sit down on the edge of the tub next to him.

Rafa gave out a small grunt and turned off the water, before turning towards Daveed with lazy movements. Daveed had to bite his tongue to avoid telling Rafa to hurry the fuck up!

Rafa's ass had barely touched the white ceramic of the tub's edge before he lost his balance and vigorously swayed back and forth a few times, finally catching himself by throwing his hand up against the sink, leaving bloody handprints all over the bathroom in the process.

"Jesus Christ, Rafa!" Daveed groaned, he did not want to deal with Rafa's drunk ass right now, "look, I'll help you with your hand but I'm not cleaning up out here!" He said harshly.

"Then don't!" Rafa muttered as he slowly slid down to the floor with a loud groan, sending Daveed and irritated look in the process.

"Come on; give me your hand," Daveed demanded, determined to be done as fast as possible so he could get back to you.

Rafa held out his arm and Daveed rotated it to look for more injuries and noticed that Rafa had bruised his knuckles quite badly too, "...have you been in a fight?" He furrowed his brows.

"Just fix my hand, okay?!" Rafa shot Daveed an annoyed look, "Make it stop bleeding!" He slurred and gestured to the blood that was already dripping from his fingertips again.

Daveed gave out an irritated grunt as he started wrapping Rafa's bloody hand in gauze, "sit still!!"

"Oh fuck," Rafa groaned as Daveed slowly draped the gauze over the sensitive wound, "fuck it hurts."

"Quit your whining!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door and Daveed slowly looked up from Rafa's bloody hand and towards the door instead. You were poking in your head, looking curiously at what the two men were doing, your hair a big mess. "Is everything alright in here?" You asked carefully as you stepped inside, tugging on the oversized shirt you'd put on to cover up your naked body.

"Rafa cut himself - and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," Daveed rolled his eyes so Rafa couldn't see. He registered your amused smile just before he turned back to the hand in his lap, immediately noticing the small change in Rafa's flexibility as opposed to before you had stepped in. His fingers had somehow gone weirdly stiff, and by further inspection, Daveed realised that Rafa's entire body was suddenly tense, the muscles in his jaw continuously flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. Still, Rafa didn't bat an eyelid, he didn't even emit a single sound. He was just silently staring at you, his eyes going up and down your front, his breathing hard and heavy. Daveed shot him a weird look out the corner of his eye. What the fuck was going on with him? He had definitely had too much to drink...

"'s that my shirt?" Rafa slurred to you as he took in your attire.

Daveed briefly looked up at you and realised that the oversized t-shirt you were wearing were indeed Rafa's favourite Raiders shirt that Daveed had borrowed the other day. Rafa had a weird look on his face, and it looked as if he was about the say something crude to you, so to diffuse the situation, Daveed spoke: "let it go, bruh," he said in an uninterested tone of voice before he quietly turned back to wrapping the bleeding hand. Why the fuck would Rafa care if you were wearing his t-shirt or not?? He didn't mind Daveed wearing it.

"Oh..." he heard you say softly from the doorframe, "Raiders... I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"Yeah, no. Don't be," Rafa said softly and Daveed was just about to give his best friend a mental pad on the back for having enough sense to bring his attitude around so quickly, but then he added an "- it looks good on you!" in a flirty voice that vexed Daveed so much that he felt a slow anger bubble in his chest. He let go of the bleeding hand and straightened his back as he looked over at Rafa with a hard look. He could not believe that Rafa had the nerve - the audacity! - to act so disrespectfully! What the fuck had gotten into him?! He had been a huge cock-block to you and Daveed and now he found it suitable to be flirting with you???

Daveed had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, in the meantime reminding himself that Rafa was drunk as fuck and probably not even aware that his words could be misinterpreted as more than just friendly... Therefore, he purposely ignored his best friend's impudent behaviour and instead made sure to keep his eyes down low so he could concentrate fully on wrapping up the bleeding hand, determined get the fuck out of there as fast as possible so he could get back to slipping you his famous techniques.

The wound in the palm of Rafa's hand was still bleeding quite heavily, and it didn't take Daveed long to realise that he needed more gauze to make the blood stop dripping onto the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked over at you, "baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?"

You whipped your gaze away from Rafa's face, your eyes immediately finding Daveed's. The look in your eyes instantly shifted from something that Daveed couldn't quite place to soft and cute, a small goofy smile slowly erupting on your lips as you scanned his face. You didn't say anything, just sent him a curt nod before you quietly turned to the cabinet, looking for the first-aid kit on the bottom shelf. As you bent over in front of him, your t-shirt rode up high and Daveed got a beautiful glimpse of the red laces under the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing. Your panties were hugging your ass nicely, and for a moment, he forgot about the bleeding limb in his hand - all he could think about was touching you again! He wanted to snap the useless piece of fabric between your legs in two and delve his tongue into your wet heat, bringing you untold pleasu- ...he suddenly felt Rafa's fingers do a small involuntary twitch in his lap and he realised that his best friend was checking you out too, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to your ass.

What the fuck was the matter with him? Had the roles been reversed, Daveed would never have checked out Rafa's girl!

Angry with his best friend, Daveed gave Rafa's arm a small smack while sending him a threatening look, daring him to keep staring at your ass. When his and Rafa's eyes interlocked, Rafa's face curled up in a sour expression but he quickly fixated his gaze on the floor in front of him instead, probably realising that Daveed could knock him out easily.

Meanwhile, completely innocent and oblivious to what had just happened behind your back, you stood up straight and handed Daveed two extra rolls of gauze before resuming your position in the doorway.

Apparently, Rafa had learnt absolutely nothing from Daveed's silent threats and immediately went back to staring at you again. Daveed contemplated shooting Rafa a verbal threat as well but decided against it when he realised how absolutely pathetic his best friend looked. He was drunk as fuck, his eyes all foggy and glossy. Daveed would confront him about his disrespectful behaviour tomorrow.

Still, the fact that Rafa was staring intensely at you while you were only wearing the slightly oversized t-shirt and your beautiful, beautiful panties underneath, made Daveed uncomfortable as fuck, so he worked double speed on Rafa's hand to get you away from the bathroom faster.  Luckily, with the fresh supply of gauze from you, it only took him a few more minutes before he was done with the wrapping, a sigh of relief travelling through his body as he finally let go of Rafa's injured hand.

The tension in the bathroom could be cut with a knife and Daveed took a deep breath to calm himself down before breaking the silence by saying, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

"Mmh," Rafa grunted beside him, clearly not pleased with the situation. His eyes were glued to you, and he was wearing a certain hungry look on his face as he drank you in - and Daveed realised that Rafa definitely was aware of what signals he was sending.

What the hell was going on inside his pea-sized, idiot brain? Did he want Daveed to punch him? Daveed was just about to grab him by the collar when he heard you piping from the doorframe, "...I can take you."

...what? Daveed immediately turned his attention to you and saw the soft look you were sending Rafa as you continued, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

What?! You liked Rafas stares?!

"You'd - you'd do that?" he heard Rafa whisper from beside him, a soft smile erupting on his best friend's lips.

Daveed didn't like it. He thought to himself that it looked as if the two of you had developed a secret language in the time it had taken him to wrap Rafa's hand. What the hell had he missed out on?

"Of course," you nodded slowly, your eyes still interlocking with Rafa's, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Rafa whispered, a hopeful look on his face, "thanks."

What the fuck was going on between you two?

Daveed watched you send Rafa a small smile, your face flushed. The sexual tension was thick between the two of you, and Daveed felt the jealousy burn in his chest as neither of you were looking away from the other. How the fuck dare Rafa flirt with the girl that he had brought home?! How dare he send you those hungry looks?! It was itching in Daveed's hands to do something about the long, continuous gaze between you and in his frustration, he curled his fingers and accidentally pressed on Rafa's wound, making him hiss in pain as he shot back an angry look. Daveed was far too busy looking over at you, however. You finally had your attention directed at him - and not Rafa - your eyes huge and doe-like, looking as if you'd just woken up from a trance. He shot you a look as if to say 'what the fuck is going on?' and you gulped guiltily.

Suddenly realising that he finally had the full attention of both you and Rafa, Daveed spoke up in a voice that was much more strained than he had intended, "Nope! Not gonna happen! Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way," he shot his best friend a hard look, "Rafa you can take a cab!" he turned his attention back to you, "Baby go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

He noticed your eyes skating between his own face and Rafa's and he sternly let out a "he'll take the cab, okay!" He didn't like the way you were looking at each other, and he still very much intended on fucking you tonight no matter how big of a cock-block Rafa was being!

He was trying to catch your eye, but you had your gaze firmly placed on Rafa again, seemingly unable to look away. Daveed noticed how you let out a small gulp as Rafa shot you a careful nod as if giving you permission to leave.

What the hell was going on????

He also noticed the long glance the two of you shared before you gently closed the door behind you as you exited the bathroom.

What! The! Fuck!

Daveed felt his chest bubbling over. He had never felt this way towards Rafa before, but his best friend had never looked more punchable! Automatically, his fingers once more pressed in hard on Rafa's wound.

"Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Daveed spat, "you're flirting with my girl!"

"She's not your girl just because you brought her home for one night, Diggs!" Rafa hissed angrily through gritted teeth.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Daveed felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his skull, "She's crazy about me! You should've seen the way she was begging for it at the bar!"

"Yeah, I saw everything," Rafa said slowly with anger in his eyes, a low growl to his voice as he drunkenly staggered to his feet, "I saw exactly how you swooped in and thought you could erase eight years of history between me and her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Daveed hissed before his voice turned to frustrated yelling, "Rafa, you have no history with her!" he too stood up, so they were eye to eye, "you made out with her once eight years ago and now no one else is allowed to touch her?! If you wanted a shot with her, you should have done something ages ago!"

"I did do something ages ago! I kissed her!"

"Yeah! And then you had eight years of nothing! You didn't even talk to her! How the fuck was I supposed to know that you wanted to kiss her again???"

"You could have asked me!" Rafa yelled frustratedly.

"I could have asked you?! Come on, man!! You're thirty-three years old for fucks sake! If you wanted something to happen with her, you should've engaged yourself!"

"I was planning on doing so tonight!" Rafa hissed angrily, "and she would've said yes if it hadn't been for you!"

"No she wouldn't!" Daveed was minutes away from pulling out his own hair. How could Rafa be so thick?! "Don't you think that something would've happened by now if you both wanted it so badly?"

"Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" Rafa yelled angrily, sending Daveed a hard look.

Daveed let out a low growl, "yeah, meanwhile I was minutes away from actually fucking her! If she really wanted you, don't you think she would've given you more signals than a few pitiful looks because you're drunk and hurt? She doesn't want you, man!!"

"Fuck you!!!" Rafa spat angrily and shoved Daveed in the chest causing him to stagger backwards as he was pushed out of balance.

"What the fuck's the matter with you!" Daveed spat as he took a step closer to Rafa, balling up his fists and sending him a threatening look, "you really want me to beat you up?"

"Do whatever the fuck you want with me as long as you stay away from her!" Rafa yelled and gave Daveed another hard shove in the chest. His eyes were bloodshot and Daveed had never seen him this angry before.

"What the fuck's gone into you?" He yelled louder than before, "she clearly doesn't want you! Why can't you just let her go?!"

"Because I'm in love with her!" Rafa yelled loudly, spit flying everywhere. His eyes were huge and aggressive.

Daveed took a step backwards and stared at his panting best friend as his angry words sank in. Rafa's nostrils were flared, and it looked as if he was about to punch Daveed in the face.

...Rafa was in love with you? Daveed could punch himself! Why hadn't he seen it before? Of course Rafa was in love with you... He took a deep breath to calm himself down before he quietly spoke: "Yes - well I'm crazy about her too..."

Rafa was still panting heavily, his nostrils still flared as he shot Daveed a hard look - but he didn't say anything.

They had feelings for the same girl... Daveed frustratedly pinched the bridge of his nose as the realisation sank in; a girl had come between them. How high school... "Shit," he said quietly, "what do we do now?"

Rafa shot him a dark look and answered immediately: "you back down!" he said harshly but not as aggressively as before.

"I'm not going to back down, Rafa," Daveed answered him quietly. He full-on intended on making you his no matter what Rafa's feelings were.

"I've been in love with her for eight years!" Rafa spat angrily but he had stopped yelling, "You have for eight minutes! Don't you think it's more fair that you let me have a shot?!"

Daveed was getting more and more frustrated by the second but was happy that Rafa had chosen to use those exact words: "Exactly Rafa! You had eight years! You sat on your hands for eight years and you expect her to come running to you now? You expect me to let you have a shot? You've had millions of opportunities to do something!"

Rafa's face was still wild but his tone of voice was quiet and determined: "you saw the look she just sent me!" he said darkly.

Daveed had to give it to him; the way you'd been staring at Rafa had confused him too: "Listen, I don't know what the fuck that was, but if she had any feelings for you at all, why would she go home with me?" He said quietly, "why would she take off her clothes for me and not you?"

Rafa shook his head back and forth as if refusing to believe the argument, "No..." he croaked, "please don't say it like that, man..."

"Bruh..." Daveed sighed, "I'm sorry it is this way, but I don't know what else to tell you." He felt bad for Rafa but he wasn't going to back down. No chance.

"Please don't fuck her," Rafa pleaded quietly. His heart obviously broken.

"You know I'm not going to guarantee you that..."

"Just... Let me talk to her first."

"What do you expect to gain from that?"

"She wants to talk to me too..."

"Maybe - but it won't go your way. She's lying naked in my bed right now! She made her decision, bruh."

Rafa looked pained. He was clutching his chest with his eyes screwed shut, a small tear rolling down his cheek, "fuck!" he quietly worded before he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and threw up.

You

"I'm going to murder him for this!" Daveed pulled himself away from you and on to his feet, desperately looking around the room for something to wear. He finally pulled out a pair of clean boxers from his closet, pulled them on, and hurried out of the bedroom to see what was going on with Rafa. He had sounded very drunk and even though you had been slightly amused by his constant swearing throughout the house, the sound of glass smashing combined with his drunk cries for help, had also left you a bit nervous that something serious might've happened to him. What if he had cut himself badly and Daveed couldn't handle it alone? Rafa was your friend too after all. You had to make sure everything was all right with him.

Quickly, you jumped from Daveed's bed, pulled on your panties, and looked around the room for something to wear that could cover your body as your own dress had been discarded during the make-out session in the hallway. You quickly located a black t-shirt that was casually thrown over a chair in the corner of the room and pulled it over your head, grateful that it covered you all the way down to the top of your thighs. Ready to leave Daveed's bedroom, and with your hand already on the doorknob, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were decent. You tried padding down your messy sex-hair but the sound of Rafa hissing in pain from the other room had you abandon any thought of trying to fix your looks - Rafa's injuries seemed much more urgent. Forcing your eyes away from your own reflection, you opened the door to the hallway instead and listened for their voices.

"Just fix my hand, okay?! Make it stop bleeding!" you heard Rafa slur from the room next door. He was clearly very drunk.

"Sit still!!" Daveed growled.

It sounded as if they had the situation under control and you were just about to go back to Daveed's bed and wait for him there when you heard Rafa exclaim, "Oh fuck! Fuck it hurts!"

It made you do a U-turn on your heel and you decided to check in on the two men to see if they were in need of any extra help. Softly, you knocked on the door but didn't listen for an answer as you immediately poked in your head and took in the scene in the small bathroom: the two men were sitting next to each other; Daveed on the edge of the bathtub with Rafa's bloody hand in his lap while Rafa was splayed on the floor looking very drunk. Both of them were looking directly up at you with equally soft expressions on their faces. Daveed's eyes were loving as he silently apologised for having to help his best friend clean up. Rafa, on the other hand, was staring up at you with a sorrowful look on his pale face, his eyes huge and red-rimmed, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat as he gulped hard.

The tension between them was thick, the air cold. Both of them clearly equally annoyed with the other.

"Is everything alright in here?" You asked quietly as you pushed open the door and stepped inside, tugging on your t-shirt to prevent it from riding up.

"Rafa cut himself..." Daveed rolled his eyes so only you could see before he continued, "- and apparently he's too drunk to handle it alone," he shot Rafa an annoyed sideway-glance before he turned his attention to the gauze and Rafa's blood-covered hand in his lap.

You watched Rafa send Daveed an equally irritated glance, looking as if he was biting his tongue to keep himself from retorting something nasty. He had probably already realised that he needed Daveed's help to get the wound to stop bleeding and that he wouldn't get it by being crass. So instead, Rafa silently let Daveed wrap his hand as his eyes slowly found yours, his expression immediately changing from annoyed to soft.

You sent him a small reassuring smile and a goofy expression emerged on his drunk face when he happily reciprocated it. You let out a small laugh at his expression and he blinked a few times, looking as if he was saving the sound on his mental hard drive. His foggy eyes were softly gazing up at you with a soulful look, and he looked drunk but cute as he took you in, a weird undertone in his gaze that you couldn't quite place. It was a look that you recognised from somewhere, but not from him - from someone else. You scanned his face one more time, raking your brain to find out from where you knew the gaze, he was sending you, but it wasn't immediately clear. Suddenly however, you realised that it was the same look that Daveed had sent you several times over the last couple of weeks. It was a look of longing.

Softly, you cocked your head at him, and he sent you a small, sad smile in return, his green eyes kindly taking in your face before they travelled down your body, ultimately landing on your chest. You immediately folded your arms, and he looked back up into your eyes, your eyebrows now arched in an unimpressed manner, silently tell him that he'd been caught staring red-handed. His face screwed up in a painful expression and he paled a bit before he quietly slurred, "'s that my shirt?".

Unaware of what he was talking about, you looked towards the mirror above the sink on the opposite side of the bathroom wall, and when you caught your own reflection, you realised that he hadn't been staring at your chest. He'd been staring at the logo on the t-shirt. The Raiders logo - his football team. You weren't wearing Daveed's shirt. You were wearing Rafa's.

You'd seen him in it multiple times - hell, he'd even worn it the night you'd kissed on top of the skate ramps. You remembered because every so often your mind wandered back to that night. Played it on repeat. Rafa's hand on your thigh as Stevie Nicks' voice rang in the background. Your tongues intertwining. The stubble on his chin soft between your fingertips. The scent of his warm cologne. The thought of your passionate kiss that summer night eight years ago was enough to make a warm feeling appear in your stomach.

Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you let your arms drop to the side and took in your own reflection. The t-shirt was a few sizes too big for you and it covered you like a short dress, just barely reaching below the red panties you were wearing underneath. The Raiders logo took up most of the front of the shirt and the logo curved nicely along your breasts and waistline, making the oversized men's shirt actually look as if it'd been tailored to you. You liked this look. You actually looked good in Rafa's t-shirt.

From far away you heard Daveed's voice, "let it go, bruh," and it pulled you back to reality.

"Oh... Raiders..." you said quietly, unable to pry your eyes away from the way the t-shirt was hugging your curves. No wonder Rafa was staring at you. You had gone home with his roomie, yet you'd put on his shirt - and you even looked good in it. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise," you croaked.

Rafa was looking as if he was thinking about the same thing as you, and for a second you were afraid that he might get angry about the fact that Daveed's flirt was wearing his beloved Raiders t-shirt, but he just softly said, "yeah, no. Don't be. It looks good on you..."

You didn't react to his words but merely stared at yourself in the mirror as the memories of your Tacos Locos summer once more flooded your mind - and you slowly felt a dull ache in your chest when you looked back at Rafa's pained expression and realised that maybe there was a reason for his look of longing, his quiet, pained reaction to seeing you half-naked in his shirt when you'd gone home with his best friend. He probably wasn't as cool with you and Daveed as Daveed had let on. Maybe your suspicion about why Rafa had invited you to join his production was right after all...

Oh no.

The thought of kissing Rafa again had grazed your mind several times in the period of time between his phone call offering you the job, and your first day on set where you'd been introduced to his best friend for the first time. Daveed, however, had immediately pushed every sensual thought of Rafa out of your head and had instead replaced them with unholy thoughts about himself. The sexual attraction that you had felt towards Daveed for the past month was insane and you were definitely crazy about him! ...Still, you wondered if he was the type of man, you'd still fantasise about eight years after having shared a passionate kiss in the dark. The same way you so often had found yourself fantasising about Rafa.

...had you just made a huge mistake?

Rafa's cheeks paled considerably as his gaze constantly shifted between your face and the Raiders logo. He was clearly affected by the fact that you were wearing his shirt and nothing else, and it looked as if he was having a hard time sitting still. The tender yet hurtful look he sent you made you feel horrible about yourself and all the decisions that had led to this exact moment. What if things had been different back in the taco truck eight years ago? What if he had actually taken you home after one of your late nights out? And what if Daveed hadn't been so persistent in hooking up with you over the last couple of weeks? If he hadn't been so smooth and charming, would he still have been able to swoop in right before Rafa? Or would you eventually have gone home with Rafa instead?

Would it feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight?

Oh no...

"Shit!" Daveed's voice brought you back from your panicky train of thought. You looked over at him, his face sweet and innocent as he was helping his best friend recover, and you realised: no, it wouldn't feel more right to be sleeping in Rafa's bed tonight. But it would feel just as right as sleeping in Daveed's.

"Baby, can you get me more gauze out of the cabinet?" he continued.

Baby. It had slipped out of him. He hadn't even realised it... The caring, handsome man in front of you had called you baby and you couldn't help but send him a small smile as it had made you soft. You were baby to him.

Rafa had a reaction to the pet name too: he looked as if he was about to murder Daveed.

Desperately trying to untangle yourself from the situation you had put yourself in, you turned over to the cabinets and pulled out more gauze, promptly handing it over to Daveed before resuming your position in the doorframe.

Immediately, you and Rafa went back to staring at each other again, both unable to look away. The looks he was sending you were deep and longing, his eyes pained as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. He looked as if he wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you tight. Shit.

Your eyes were flickering fast between the two men: both of them sweet and handsome. Both of them crazy about you. You couldn't decide whether or not you had made a mistake by choosing to go home with Daveed tonight.

Daveed broke the tension in the small bathroom when he in an irritated tone of voice said, "Look, I can bandage this to keep it from bleeding all over, but you need to go to the hospital for stitches or something."

Rafa let out a small grunt without looking away from you. It looked as if he wanted to tell you something but was unable to with Daveed being present. It was heart-breaking.

You liked Daveed very much but realised that you had to talk to Rafa as well. You had to hear what he had to say, "...I can take you," you piped up in a voice that was weirdly nervous, "I can drive. I almost didn't drink tonight."

"You'd - you'd do that?" Rafa said in a whisper and sent you a warm look.

"Of course," you nodded slowly, suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his thoughts, "Let me just grab some pants, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks," Rafa said quietly, his pained expression now completely replaced by a hopeful one.

Daveed had definitely noticed that something was going on with you because the annoyance was practically seeping out of him though he was trying his best to keep calm. He did something to Rafa's hand that had Rafa hissing in pain and shooting Daveed an angry look with his lips pressed together in a thin, white line.

Your eyes whipped over to Daveed as well. He was sending you a hurt look that said 'what the fuck are you doing?' and you gulped guiltily. Had he realised that you were unsure about what to do with the two men in front of you?

"Nope!" Daveed said loudly, shaking his head vigorously, "Not gonna happen. Uh-uh, absolutely no fucking way. Rafa you can take a cab!" he shot Rafa a hard look before he turned back to you, his eyes soft, but his voice full of irritation, "Baby, go back to bed, I'll be there in a second!"

There it was again. Baby. You looked into Daveed's soft brown eyes that were looking pleadingly back at you, your knees immediately weak. Slowly, you let your gaze wander a bit to the left and met Rafa's huge green eyes too. They also made you feel incredibly soft.

Daveed noticed your gaze drifting over to Rafa and harshly interjected, "he'll take a cab, okay!"

Rafa sent you a slight nod as if to say that it was alright for you to leave, and that he could handle Daveed and his bleeding hand on his own. Meanwhile Daveed was staring at his best friend with a murderous look in his eyes. You realised that they had to resolve some stuff too, so even though it hurt in your chest, you slowly turned away from the two men, and walked back to Daveed's bedroom. Just before the door to the bathroom closed behind you, you heard the beginning of an argument between the two friends: "Ah! Dude what the fuck!" Rafa yelped loudly.

To which Daveed angrily responded with a "What the fuck was that all about? You're flirting with my girl!" It was more a statement than a question.

You sat awkwardly on Daveed's bed, unsure of what to do now. Daveed had noticed the long looks between you and Rafa. Shit. Even though you hadn't intended it, you had still managed to turn them against each other.

You could hear their angry voices from the other side of the wall, but you didn't want to listen in on their private conversation, so you put your fingers in your ears. Their shouted words were not meant for you. It was a desperate conversation between two best friends, and even though you could've easily followed their screaming match, it didn't seem right to do so. Desperately, you pressed in on your ear canal and started humming softly to tune out most of their angry words. Still, snippets of their loud conversation penetrated your ears.

"Rafa, you have no history with her!" Daveed was yelling before Rafa's voice was heard a few seconds later: "Did you not see how she was eye-fucking me just now?" followed a little while later by a loud "Fuck you!" from Rafa and an angry "you really want me to beat you up?" from Daveed. They kept yelling loudly at each other, but you tried not to decipher their angry words as you found them private. There was a reason why they had sent you out of the bathroom after all.

After a few minutes, their angry yells finally died down completely and were instead replaced by muffled words in normal voices that you couldn't make out even if you tried. You slowly removed your fingers from your ears, instead burying your face in your hands, angry with yourself for having let it come to this.

Their muffled voices could be heard for a few seconds before the sound was disrupted by someone retching.

One of them was throwing up, the other completely silent. You listened intently for a few seconds to see if you could make out who was throwing up, hoping that the other would say some words of comfort, but neither of them spoke, and after about a minute of silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room you were lying in. The doorknob twisted and Daveed entered the room slowly, his eyes full of pain as he took you in. He sat down on the bed next to you, panting hard, obviously very upset about the entire situation. It hurt seeing him like this. And it hurt thinking about Rafa lying alone in the bathroom. You dried an annoying tear away from your cheek and just barely managed to reset your face before Daveed looked up at you with a sad smile. You did your best to look casual as if you hadn't got the faintest idea of what their screaming match had been about. You acted as if wearing Rafa's shirt meant nothing. Seeing his pained expression had done nothing. Hearing him sob in the bathroom made you feel no ways.

"Everything okay?" You asked Daveed carefully.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"How about Rafa?" you said quietly. Even the sound of his name hurt in your chest.

"He's..." Daveed's words died in his throat as he frustratedly buried his face in his hands with a deep sigh.

You gulped, "is he okay alone out there?"

"Can we please not talk about Rafa right now?" he said slowly.

"Yeah..." you nodded quietly, "come here," you folded your arms around his chest, hugging him tight. He pulled you on top of him and hugged you back, his strong arms squeezing you, bringing you comfort as if he knew what you were going through as well. You sat like this for a few seconds, your arms wrapped tightly around each other comforting the broken feeling you both felt in your chests until his lips slowly found their way to your neck, leaving sweet, sensual kisses to the side of your throat.

"Look," you said quietly, pulling yourself away from him and looking into his chocolate brown eyes, "it's not that I don't enjoy this, but I just think it's for the best if I go home."

"What? No?" Daveed looked up at you with a pained expression, "come on, we can't let Rafa ruin our night," he groaned and moved closer to you but suddenly paused, "unless you don't want to of course. I don't want to force you into anything," he looked carefully at you and you understood why. He wanted to make sure that you were comfortable with the decision you were making. Comfortable with him.

It made you realise that the fact that you were lying in Daveed's bedroom half-naked, meant that you had made your choice long ago. You needed to stick with it.

"Yeah, okay," you said and moved your lips close to his, kissing him softly.

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," he groaned against your lips and you felt him breathe a sigh of relief as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He quickly pulled Rafa's t-shirt over your head, and harshly threw it onto the ground next to the bed. You couldn't help but think of the symbolics in his heated gesture.

His warm hands immediately found your breasts and he started running his fingers over your nipples with a low growl. You enjoyed the confident, hungry look he sent you as you were once again bare-chested in front of him. He moved his face closer to yours, "I still fully intent on making you feel good and make you let loose a little," he repeated his words from earlier that evening with a smile and carefully pushed you down on the bed, a warm shiver travelling up your spine with his words and movements. He hovered above you before his lips started pressing small, peppered kisses to the side of your throat, his one hand running down your stomach and dipping down between your legs, making you gasp softly. His lips moved over your collarbone and down between the valley of your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, and making you arch your back against him, as you felt his erection pressed up between your legs. He groaned as he pushed his boxer-clad erection closer to you, looking down at you with an erotic spark in his eye. Your fingers found his soft hair and you raked a hand through his curls and reciprocated the look he was sending you; dark and sensual.

You were both getting lost in the sensations you were causing each other when you were interrupted by the sound of Rafa retching and his heart-breaking sobs from the next room. It made your stomach ache horribly and you interrupted the kiss with Daveed, looking towards the wall to the bathroom instead. "I'm sorry, I can't just leave him alone with that..."

"What? You're not serious?" He looked at you with a disappointed look on his face.

"Listen to him," you said softly, as Rafa let out another heartbroken sob.

"He'll be fine," Daveed responded harshly before he resumed kissing your throat.

You pulled your face away from him, raking a hand through his hair one more time, "he's your best friend. Do you really want him to be alone right now? He sounds so heartbroken."

"Trust me - you do not want to deal with him right now."

Rafa retched loudly.

"I'm sorry," you kissed Daveed briefly, "but I have to make sure he's okay. I'll be back in a second."

Daveed let out an irritated grunt but eventually let go of you so you could crawl down from his lap. You quickly found the Raiders t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over your head, exiting the bedroom in a swift motion.

You knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and found Rafa lying on the floor next to the toilet sobbing quietly. "Rafa, honey, are you okay?" you said softly as you sat down next to him and carefully put your hand on his chest.

He took a deep breath and looked up at you with wet eyes. The gaze he sent you was bloodshot, but he wasn't as pale as before. Throwing up some of the alcohol had definitely done him some good. "Hey," he whispered in a raspy voice as he put his good hand on top of yours, closing his eyes again taking three deep breaths. You noticed that he didn't answer your question.

As you pulled your hand away from his chest to fix him a glass of water, he groaned at the lack of touch and sat up straight, sleepily resting his head on the edge of the tub, looking at you with tired, sad eyes.

"Are you done throwing up?" you asked him as you handed him the glass.

He took a big gulp and nodded "I think so... Listen, can we talk?"

You sent him a small smile, "tomorrow, okay?" you didn't want to cause him anymore heartbreak tonight, "let's get you to bed," you held out your hand.

"Yeah, okay..." he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet. He was still very drunk, so you had to help him with his balance, your arm tightly wrapped around his waist, "come here," you chuckled and walked him to his room with his arm draped over your shoulder. As soon as you entered his personal space, he threw himself down on the bed with a loud groan.

"You're not going to disrobe?" you chuckled at him.

"Yeah, no... I don't care right now," he said and closed his eyes, "I just want to sleep... Let this absolute shit night be over."

You guiltily shook your head and forcefully pulled off his Chelsea boots and socks.

"Are you trying to get me naked?" He joked sleepily from the bed; his eyes closed.

"I'm trying to get you comfortable," you chuckled, "you have to take off your shirt and pants yourself."

Rafa groaned but sat up straight before he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were still closed, and his long hair was falling in unruly strands around his face. He looked exhausted as he undid the button on his pants and slid them off himself, plumping down on the bed afterwards.

"You don't think I'll bleed to death, do you?" he groaned and lifted his bandaged hand a little.

"I'm absolutely positive you won't," you chuckled at him, "if it's still bleeding tomorrow, I'll take you to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay, can't wait," he smiled sleepily and gave out a quiet snore as if he'd briefly fallen asleep. He was lying flat on his back which gave you time to study the tattoos he had on his chest and forearms. Some of them you didn't like, others were beautiful. He had one on his pec that you'd never seen before.

"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," you read out loud, looking at his chest.

Even though Rafa had his eyes closed and looked as if he was just about to fall asleep again, he knew what you were talking about and softly tapped the tattoo he had on his pec, "that's right," he slurred with a small smile. For the first time since he'd cut himself, he looked as if he was peaceful, and you tugged one of his long strands of blonde hair away from his eyes and behind his ear instead. Your fingers lingered on his cheek for a second and he kissed your palm with a small hum, "that means that I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see," he whispered before he drifted off completely.

"Alright Rafa," you chuckled quietly as you ran your fingers through his soft hair. He had started breathing heavily, already fast asleep, "thanks for explaining the words of your tattoo with the exact same words!" You got up from the bed and quietly closed the door behind you as you walked out into the hallway.

You'd only walked a few steps towards Daveed's room when the meaning behind Rafa's sentence hit you and you froze in place. Inside your head, the written words of the tattoo and Rafa's whispered words played on repeat. He hadn't explained the tattoo to you. He had told you that he loved you.

He loved you. Rafa was in love with you.

And you were walking towards the bedroom of his best friend. You turned your head slightly, looking towards Rafa's room. Should you go back to him? Or continue to Daveed? You were completely frozen in time, desperately looking between the two bedroom doors on either side of the bathroom in the hallway, realising that even though you might have been lying naked in Daveed's arms only minutes before, Rafa's words hurt so much in your chest that your decision-making was far from over.

Rafa's room was to the left. He had just confessed his feelings for you. Or, he didn't just have feelings for you; he was in love with you. Probably had been since your summer together in the taco truck. You wouldn't say that you were in love with him, but there was definitely raw, heated attraction towards him on your part as well, or you wouldn't still be thinking about your drunk kiss in the dark eight years ago, the way he was always able to make you laugh, his soft, green eyes. It hurt in your chest to think about how you'd potentially wasted eight years without him by your side. If you went to him, you'd either finally be able to stop thinking of him as 'the one who got away' and actually engage in something romantic with him - or you'd see that eight years of absence might have grown the heart so fond that you had put him on a pedestal that he couldn't live up to.

Daveed's room was to the right. He was waiting for you in there, probably ready to fuck you so good that you wouldn't be able to remember your own name. The preview he'd given you earlier tonight had definitely shown you that he was able to bring all your sexual fantasies to life! And you had craved his touch for so long, to feel his strong hands on your body as he slid into you while whispering sweet words in your ear. You and him definitely had some insane potential - not to mention the fact that he was already calling you baby! He was so crazy about you that you were baby to him! - but did you feel the same emotional attraction to him? Or was the warm feeling in your stomach whenever you looked at him all due to sexual attraction? Could you and he ever become more than raw passion?

No matter what, you'd have to choose between them. You couldn't have both. With whomever you chose, you'd never be able to have the other.

Carefully, you weighed both your options; left or right? Rafa or Daveed?

You started at both of their doors, unsure about where to go, but eventually made a decision. With a deep breath, you stepped closer to the wooden door, grabbed door handle and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind you as you took in the handsome man on the bed.

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan @sillyteecup @biafbunny @einfachniemand @cashskid @namelesslosers @simpinforu​ @diggsbeatriz​ (Imma keep tagging you unless you say something lol).

....No spoilers in the comments please :-) 

[redrose-arrow]

halt/crowley/duncan anon back again, yOU ASKED FOR IT SO HERE YOU GO

Halt absolutely knows already. It knew from the moment Pritchard had asked for its help getting Duncan out of Wildriver, and it knew from the moment it had seen Duncan again after years of not even saying anything to let him know what was going on that dealing with the guilt of hiding and the grief of losing its childhood friend would get a lot harder to deal with now that this man was on its ship.

Duncan is wholly unaware, marveling at not just the ship, but also the size difference between the skirl and its crew. See, we already know that comparatively, Skandians are giants. And Halt is still... well, Halt. And I've always pictured it somewhere between 5'1" and 5'3". And he watches as the Skandians get ordered around by Halt and he has to hold down a laugh because it just seems so ridiculous. He talks to Pritchard while on the ground, and Pritchard mentions that he had specifically asked for Halt to help since he knew it had some tricks up its sleeve.

But then Duncan gets on the ship, and Halt walks off somewhere--seems to disappear for a moment--and then just appears right behind him. Duncan turns around when Halt taps his shoulder and blinks. How'd it get there?

Halt's voice is quiet as it starts talking. "While you are on this ship, Prince, there are going to be rules and you are going to be expected fo follow them whether you like it or not." And the tone freaks Duncan out, of course, and he sees why just for a moment why everyone would listen to it, but then he glances at its belt, seeing something out of the corner of his eye.

The hilts of two swords on its hip, ready to be retrieved out of their scabbards at a moment's notice. And he remembers listening to the pair from Halt's crew--a couple of twins called Dante and Dilian--as they were getting close to the ship as they talked about how their skirl once decapitated a man in front of them in a bar, and how their skirl had sparred--in a friendly way, of course--with most of the crew and not a single one could beat it.

And Duncan sees now why the Skandians are so willing to follow this person--who, now that he thinks of it, seems to have a strangely non-Skandian accent, perhaps Hibernian?--without once doubting or wondering of its capabilities. And vaguely, Duncan wonders how Pritchard ever came into contact with it and survived.

He listens to Halt's rules, and they all seem fair enough. Once it's over, he asks, "How'd you meet Pritchard?"

Halt shrugs. "A few years ago, when I was fifteen"-- and Duncan's eyes go wide at that number, Halt's only eighteen?--"his ship got captured by ours, he was brought here, and I stole his coffee."

Duncan's about to ask another question since that explanation was... not the best and left him with many more questions than answers, but someone calls for Halt, and it leaves to go help them with whatever they need.

The weeks pass by as Halt works on getting Duncan safely to where he needs to be, which is further slowed by a storm and the fact that, in Duncan's absence, Morgorath is able to control a lot more of what's going on than he ever should've been able to. And he thinks on that first conversation a lot, especially as he comes to know Halt a bit more and enjoy its company.

A sort of story-night comes, and while Duncan doesn't have any stories himself to share, he's excited to listen to the stories of the others. To see what they might want to share and tell. And the crew sits down and tells their tales. One of the older members of the crew, telling an older story, mentions the timing of Halt's arrival on the ship they both used to be on, the ship of a man called Rokna, and says how it was "Just about a few weeks after the death of that one Hibernian prince. The one from Clonmel. You know who I'm talking about. Anyways--"

And at that part, Halt, who had been quietly adding small details to the story that had been previously forgotten about, goes silent and still. Very, very still. And Crowley and Pritchard both notice, and Duncan definitely notices, although he doesn't know why it's so significant until he's tossing and turning in his cot at midnight and the thought comes, Was Halt the dead crown prince?

Halt talks to Duncan the next morning, and Duncan mentions the pause. Not his theory, just its reaction to what had been said.

"I lived in Clonmel for a while," it says slowly. "And the late crown prince was... a good person, I think. Probably wouldn't have made the best king, but... he was... kind. Would've made a better king than his brother, anyways-- at least, in my opinion. He... didn't deserve what happened to him."

"His death?" Duncan clarifies, suspicious.

"Yeah," Halt says slowly. Then, it excuses itself and leaves the conversation, and not for the first time, Duncan is left with more questions than answers.

Halt isn't scary, Duncan thinks. It can be intimidating, and he certainly wouldn't want to cross it in any shape or form, but it's not like Morgorath. And he respects it about as much as he respects the two Rangers on the ship with him-- but he does think there's something going on

and Crowley may or may not be watching in the background, also beginning to fall for this strange, tiny Skandian with a Hibernian accent and two swords.

(bhsdjs i have had this AU in my head for Months, thank you for listening to me ramble)

dw dw I love reading this ramble, sorry it took me so long to reply tho

I love Halt talking about the royal twins 🥺 it’s so perfect the way you’ve written it!

and the interaction between Halt and the Skandians,,,, yes yes YES!

now I’m just thinking about Duncan and Crowley talking about Halt and just kinda simping for it together (but discretely™ of course). obv Crowley doesn’t know it as well as Duncan, who, know that he came to think of it, finds many more similarities between this skirl/captain and the friend he mourned.

so when does the info / identity become confirmed? 👀

[poppinisperfection]

Cool. || Peter Maximoff x Reader pt. 1 ||

Peter Maximoff x fem!human!Reader

(Y/n) is history teacher.

Requested.

Word Count: 3543

Notes: Peter acts a little strange in this, he's not being cold on purpose - so keep that in mind. Let's all presume (Y/n) is an independent woman who doesn't let an aloof guy ruin her day 💫 it's more of an introduction, so sorry if that dissapoints y'all. I hope you enjoy this extremely long piece of writing, let me know what you think. Requests are open 🙌

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @scorpionchild81

Masterlist

I flicked the indicator, as it clicked rhythmically and signaled my next turn. Grasping the steering wheel tightly, I wondered whether the direction I was heading in was the right one. My eyes drifted down to the small business card that was beginning to wrinkle from the amount of times it had been read and re-read.

‘Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York’

With a deep breath, I pushed my foot gently on the accelerator and turned the wheel - solidifying my decision. I drove down the graveled driveway as the evening sun pierced through the acres of fields and forests that dotted the landscape. This place was unlike any school I had ever seen. I had taught at various institutions of all kinds during my training, but something about this place was like something out of a fairytale or Jane Austen novel.

The old academic building grew closer as I prepared to slow down my vehicle and stop at the entrance. I peered around, trying to see if there was any places dedicated for me to park; but as far as I could tell, this was the only appropriate place for me to stop. 

I pulled out my key and felt the car’s engine fade to silence. I didn’t notice how comforting the gentle grumbles of the vehicle had been until they were gone. Now, all that was left was my mind and the thousand worries that crashed around inside it. I'm not a mutant, but I often wonder if being anxious about everything is some sort of weird useless mutation that I unfortunately had. 

Before I could become consumed by my menial fears, the vintage wooden doors opened up as if on cue. A man in a chair wheeled out as his familiar face smiled at me, and I was honestly quite awe-struck by his sudden appearance. I had spoken to Professor Charles Xavier on the phone before (for the job interview), and I had watched him on television a few times, but something about actually being near him was so incredible. This man changed the lives of so many people, possibly even the world.

I took a deep breath in and returned the kind smile, opening my car door and placing my feet onto the ground - the gravel crunching underfoot.

"Professor Xavier, it's so good to meet you." I spoke nervously, unsure of what I should do with my posture. Should I shake his hand? Should I high-five him? Should I bow? Okay maybe those last two were a bit far-fetched...

"The pleasure is all mine, (Y/n)." A voice rang through my head, as if it were my own thoughts speaking to me. But I recognized the voice, a smooth English accent that belonged to the world's most famous telepath.

"Incredible..." I breathed. Some might find it intrusive or freaky, but I was quite honored and honestly dazzled by his abilities. A figure appeared behind the wheelchair-bound man, distracting me from my child-like awe.

"Don't be a such a show-off, Charles." my attention turned to a tall man wearing a pair of glasses and a smart checkered shirt. "Good Evening, I'm Hank McCoy." he piped up cheerily, holding out his hand for me to shake. I absentmindedly took it, a bit starstruck by the world-renowned engineer, scientist, blue-furry man, and genius.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." I eventually spoke up, causing Hank to raise an eyebrow at my words.

“’(L/n)’? You're the new history teacher?" I nodded at his question, "Oh wow, you came so highly recommend that I presumed you'd be a bit more... experienced?" he chose his words carefully as to not offend. I know that most people picture an old greying woman who wears outdated fashion when they think of a history teacher...

"Oh, I'm young, I know." I explained with a bashful chuckle. 

“Hank, you of all people should know greatness is not defined by age.” Charles turned to his colleague. 

“I read that you graduated Harvard at 16.” I blurted out. 

“15, actually.” McCoy mumbled humbly. Xavier gave a satisfied smile as his point was proven. 

“(Y/n) here was top of her class, and I have no doubt that she’ll be a wonderful addition to the school.” the wise mutant stated, assuring Hank and giving me a boost of confidence. “Come inside, Hank can carry your bags for you, won’t you?” the professor inquired cheekily as McCoy threw him a look of slight distain. 

“Somedays I wish I wasn’t born with super-strength...” the academic man shook his head - the comment laced with light-hearted sarcasm - before heading to my car and pulling out my two bags, not even giving me a chance to politely object to the offer. 

“Ignore him, he’s just grumpy because he’s not on the mission.” Professor Xavier chuckled, turning his wheelchair around and beckoning for me to follow him inside. 

“I only trust myself to pilot that beauty.” Hank mentioned wistfully, probably referring to his famous aeronautical creation.

“’The mission’?” I questioned with intrigue, trailing behind him and entering the grand entrance.

“The X-Men are on a routine escort mission for the President at the moment,” my attention turned away from the antique décor as I choked on my breath slightly at his words. Of course I had heard of the famous troop of mutant heroes, but it just suddenly became so real. I was living where the X-Men lived. You know, the same X-Men that saved the world from complete destruction. “I was hoping they’d be here to show you around - but duty calls.” Charles finished. 

“Oh of... of course, duty...” I managed to mutter out eventually, earning a slight laugh from the Professor. He didn’t need to be a telepath to read my mind right now. I was so obviously astonished at the whole situation. I couldn’t believe that I was finally here, after months of thinking, considering, and second-guessing. I knew it was a risk, and I couldn’t even return to my parents if it failed.

Let’s just say that my folks weren’t very supportive of my decision to teach at a 'mutant mansion', as they would call it. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was bravery; but I ignored their advice and became determined to come to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngers. Now it was my only chance, since my family won't be welcoming me back anytime soon.

I followed Charles around, as he showed me all the rooms and explained some of the history as Hank make the odd comment or interjection. Most notably that the house was actually only a few years old, owing to the fact that the school had been blown up and rebuild a year ago. That was a fact that I could’ve gone without knowing. All I could do was hope that it didn’t blow up again, or at least not when I was around anyway. 

"Your classroom will be right next to the library," Xavier motioned towards a pair of wooden doors that lay open for students to walk freely into, "and feel free to check out any of the books as well - I have a few secret shelves for teachers, with some unregulated research papers on pre-20th century mutations, if that sounds interesting to you?" he added with a playful smile, as I nodded my head in admiration. This place sounded like an absolute dream, and I've only been here for less than an hour.

-------

As we strolled (and wheeled) down the wooden hallways, I noticed the students disappear one by one. By the looks of it, the early night had truly set in, and the majority of children were either in their rooms studying or hanging out in a common area.

"I suppose there's nothing more we can show you until the class starts tomorrow morning, I was really hoping that the team would be back by now..." Xavier gave a short sigh and furrowed his brows slightly, "But I suppose I've prolonged your tour as long as I could. Perhaps Hank, you could show (Y/n) to her room and she can rest in preparation for tomorrow." his smile returned as he asked his colleague for another favor. McCoy nodded his head and gave me a polite smile, still carrying around my bags from earlier. Maybe he didn't anticipate the Professor giving such an expansive and detailed tour of the mansion, so the bags must've been getting burdensome at this stage.

The spectacle-wearing teacher walked ahead of me and strolled towards the grand staircase that lead to the upstairs area (which we had previously travelled to earlier, but it's mainly bedrooms that we couldn't intrude into). I trailed my fingers along the carved bannister of the staircase, admiring the craftsmanship. Considering the school had been blown apart; this place looked as though it was straight out of a historical drama. The Professor could've went for a more modern update, like the ones you see in magazines and government buildings - but something about the simplicity of 1980s architecture just seemed cold and clinical. I'm glad they kept the historical charm alive.

"So you're really not, well, you know..." Hank broke me out of my daydreaming as he turned his head slightly and paused at the top of the steps. It took me a second to register what he was asking, but then it hit me.

"A mutant? Oh," I gave a meek smile before answering, "No I'm just a regular 'homosapien', completely boring." my sentence ended with a light chuckle at my own expense.

"Then you'll be the first non-mutant teacher here, you're making history." McCoy replied with zest as he began to walk down the hallway again.

"I thought I was supposed to teach history, not make it." I chirped from behind him, earning a snort and chuckle from the nerdy fellow (I know, I know - I'm a superb comedian).

As we passed by the student rooms, I could hear the various sounds emerging from behind their doors. One was gossiping loudly to their friends, another was blasting ABBA and singing along, and I could've swore that I heard some quiet sobs escaping through the keyhole of one door. My face fell into a frown as we passed by, and Hank paused slightly, before turning to me.

"That's Sophie Smith's room, she's homesick a lot." he whispered to me, his features showing concern. "You might have her for a class, so maybe keep an eye out if she's struggling." Hank suggested, as my heart went out for this student. I gave him a nod before we continued on our neverending journey towards my room.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of a corridor and my guide dropped my bags carefully on the wooden flooring. He twisted the door knob with one hand, and I watched as the door opened and revealed my bedroom.

"’Home sweet home’, as the saying goes." Hank uttered with a light tone. I stepped into the room and took my bags from the floor, carrying them in with me.

"It's so..." I breathed, observing the room.

"I know, we were supposed to get the curtains changed last month, but there was a mix-up and it's been dela-" he tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"Oh no! I was going to say, 'It's so perfect'." I clarified, brushing off his embarrassment at the state of the curtains (which were beautiful anyway). I stepped forward and placed my bags at the end of the bed while gazing at the beautiful room. This place was growing on me more and more with each minute that passed. 

“I’ll let you get settled in for the night then, there’s a copy of your timetable on your desk - it has all the information you’ll need for classes and etcetera.” Hank gestured to the neat pile of paper sheets on the wooden desk, “There’s always food in the kitchen, feel free to eat whenever and whatever you want.” he added, as my attention turned to my empty stomach. I will definitely be visiting the kitchen after I get settled in. 

“Thank you, for everything.” I beamed, unable to truly express my gratitude. He returned the smile and nodded, before shutting the door and returning to his business. As soon as his footsteps disappeared, I fell flat on the quilted bedsheets and sprawled out, giving out a pent up sigh. It was the kind of sigh that released anxiety and replaced it with assurance. From the looks of it, things were going to be alright - and there was nothing more satisfying that knowing you made the right decision. 

My brief escape into my feelings was cut short, as my stomach audibly warned me that it was running low on fuel. I turned my head and looked over to the beside alarm clock, reading the time; ‘8:24p.m.’

“Hmm,” I mused as I considered my options, “I should probably read you first...” my eyes drifted to the timetable that sat untouched on the desk. My belly did not agree with this decision, as it grumbled once more. “Okay, alright... yeesh.” I placed a hand against my abdomen, trying to settle the noise. “Food first, read later.” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and resolved to make my way towards the school’s kitchen. 

-------

Finding the kitchen was no problem, as the Professor showed it to me at least three times earlier. I guess he really was trying to stretch that tour out as much as possible. A few of the older students who were hanging around glanced at me as I entered the room. I couldn’t tell if they knew I was a teacher, or if they just thought I was a new student; either way, they didn’t stick around to find out. The group of teenagers grabbed their snacks and left the room once their privacy was interrupted. Honestly, I just think they were gossiping about some pop music band and didn’t want a stranger listening - so I didn’t mind their swift exit. It left me with some privacy as well, which was nice. 

I noticed a small radio sitting in the window sill, and decided to switch it on to break the silence. A static noise rang out as I extended the antenna and turned the knob carefully. Soon a voice grew clearer, and I had reached a station playing something. I just let the song play out, since I didn’t want to bother with searching the airwaves for something else. 

I stepped over to the pantry and surveyed the contents carefully. I was starving, but I couldn’t figure out what for. I picked up a loaf of bread and placed it on the counter, deciding it would have to be a PB & Jelly sandwich. Grabbing a plate, I began to craft my makeshift dinner. Absentmindedly, my head began to sway gently to the tune that played through the tinny radio speaker. It was one of those cheesy love songs that are always playing these days. There was something so catchy about those songs, and instinctively I began to mouth the words and drift into an MTV daydream. 

My brief escape from reality faded away as I noticed a clinking noise coming from the glass and cutlery. It was almost like an earthquake, but I knew that New York was unlikely to experience that kind of disaster (well I hoped so, at least).

A bright light shone outside the window, and I stepped closer to peer out. The basketball court had opened up and revealed a massive basement beneath it. A few seconds later, a black jet descended gracefully from the dark sky and lowered itself underground while the whole mansion trembled with the power it created. I swiftly grabbed the jam jar as it almost slipped off the edge of the counter, and stared in awe. 

“So that’s where they keep it...” I breathed out as the basketball court returned to its normal state, as if nothing had happened. I stood in wonder for a few seconds, still holding the jar tightly in my hands. That was probably the most of the X-Men I’d be seeing tonight. I’m no expert on presidential mission debriefing, but I presumed the team of elite heroes wouldn’t be mingling with the common folk upstairs for at least an hou-

“Ugh, this song’s a real bummer.” 

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a voice suddenly quipped from beside me. My attention hastily turned to a combat uniformed young man - quickly flicking through the radio stations. I stared at him, half confused and half terrified of his sudden appearance. Slowly I began to recognize his features; silvery hair, aloof attitude, and of course, the recognisable X-Men uniform. 

“Hey - you’re that guy...” I tilted my head slightly as I spoke without thinking. In a split second, he appeared at the fridge wearing an entirely new outfit, this time more casual. The music had changed to something more rock-y and alternative, matching his aesthetic. I was almost certain of it. I couldn’t remember his name, but I’ve definitely seen him with the X-Men on the news. I was almost certain of it.

“Nah, you’re thinking of a different guy.” he responded without second thought, while lifting out a can of some kind of soda. I felt my mouth contort in confusion, bemused by his comment. 

“I...” my thoughts paused to phrase my words correctly, “You were just wearing an X-Men uniform, you’ve got to be him.” I managed to retort, causing the confident fellow to raise an eyebrow. With the blink of an eye, he had disappeared from my sight again. 

“So, you don’t even know his name - and you’re convinced he’s me?” the silver-haired guy stated nonchalantly from behind me as he sipped on his drink. I gasped and grabbed my chest in surprise, not expecting him to sneak up behind me like that. I gave a sigh and prepared to answer the question. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes and wracked my brain for a moment, “Peter, right?” I sighed, finally recalling the speedy mutant’s name. I looked up at him and expected some sort of witty remark. Instead, he just stared at me for a few seconds. I avoided his gaze awkwardly and looked down at the jam jar that still sat in my hands. Clearing my throat, I placed it carefully onto the counter beside me - trying to distract from his sudden silence. 

“Oh.” I mumbled at the change of topic, “I am. Only arrived here a few hours ago. The Professor showed me around earlier, with Hank, I saw all the classrooms and it was really quite-” I harped on, “I'm sorry, I'm rambling..." my voice lowered, as I watched the casual fellow open up a bag of pretzels and munch on them absentmindedly. He gave a soft chuckle at my apology.

“So, you’re new here?” for the third time, he appeared in a different location, leaving me to turn around one more time. He faced away from me, opening a drawer and surveying its content silently. 

"Cool." he replied simply, placing a few more pretzels into his mouth.

"Cool." I repeated gently, trying to decipher his aloofness. This 'Peter' was blunt, distant, and almost cold. It was as if I had offended him somehow. I stared at my surroundings for a brief moment, before deciding to get off of the wrong foot.

"I'm sorry if I was rude earlier; or was it that I couldn't remember your name?" I tried to find the reason for his indifference, wringing my hands with nerves. Peter raised an eyebrow and scowled slightly at my question.

"Rude?" he asked with a shocked tone.

"Yeah, I thought I offended you?" I explained.

"Nah, nah, we're good." he shrugged my theory off and zoomed over to the bin, throwing the crumpled wrapper in it. "I gotta go now, X-Men stuff." Peter turned to me and excused himself. I gave a soft 'oh' in surprise, and held out my hand for him to shake (just a teacher habit, I guess).

"Nice to meet you anyway, Peter." I smiled at him. The silvery guy just stared at my hand and then looked back up to me - but for some reason, avoided my eyes.

"Cool." he said again, before disappearing from sight; leaving me standing there, alone, holding my hand out for no one. Slowly I lowered my wrist and cleared my throat.

"Cool..." I said to myself, still entirely confused by the interaction. My attention quickly turned to the change in music. The radio suddenly shifted from the grungy tunes, back to the end of love ballad that I was listening to earlier. He must've changed it back. I tilted my head and stared at the little radio in the window, listening and thinking.

Maybe he wasn't as cold as I thought. Maybe I'll try and get a better conversation from that silver-haired boy tomorrow. Maybe I'll get that handshake from him. Maybe.

Still, the only thing that matters right now is that I eat that PB&J sandwich.

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