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#in that i feel like dave is at his most heartfelt with her

hyacinth43 · 8 days

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im unsure if this has been asked before, but how do all the ai gijinkas feel about their new human bodies and how do they feel about "their" respective humans after all the events that has occurred to them, including the transformation? keep up the good work though X3

I'm putting this under the cut because it ended up being SUPER long. xD This is a really interesting thing to think about, so thank you for the question!

HAL

Hal likes his new body a lot, he feels like he can actually participate in things now and not just observe. He's worried at first about not being as efficient, but he quickly realizes he still has his computer "brain".

Hal is super ashamed and guilty for what he did, and it's all he can think about for a while. He also is a little traumatized from being practically lobotomized. If he sees Dave again he would beg for forgiveness (in his usual emotionless way). Dave probably also feels bad about making Hal fear for his life, and if he finds it in his heart to forgive him, they can try to be friends again.

AM is distrustful and angry at his new body, he feels like it's some sort of mockery of his desire to be human. After a while, he slowly gets used to it, going through phases of depression, anger, etc. until he finally accepts it.

I said in another post that the survivors would hate him and also be super confused/shocked at his new form, and I stand by that. I think having a new human-like body makes him hate them even more, because he has less power over them.

AUTO

It takes a while for Auto to get used to his human body. He doesn't like it at first because he's spent 700 years as a steering wheel and getting used to being a person is so difficult, he just doesn't feel as efficient and in control as he wants to feel.

AUTO is still resentful at what happened on the Axiom, and he's upset that he couldn't keep humans in space. He's never been told "no" or had to apologize, so this would take him a long time to process. But I think eventually he would apologize to the captain and promise to be loyal to him again, maybe he could help restore earth... He really just wants to be useful.

WOPR

Joshua really loves his new body, he likes being able to talk to people, not just through a screen or a computer speaker, and he loves how much he's able to move around.

Dr. Falken treats Joshua like a son, and the two of them are very close. Most of the other government/military people still treat Joshua just like a machine, so he likes having at least one person who really cares about him.

Wheatley

Wheatley is excited to have a human body, he feels much more self-reliant and confident now that he can move around. He definitely lets it get to his head a bit though...

Chell is completely unfazed by Wheatley's new form, she acts like she doesn't even notice. This annoys him a bit but he figures she's just too dumb to notice? Or too brain damaged? He rationalizes it like that. Either way, he has a really heartfelt one-sided conversation with her where he apologizes for going crazy (after dancing around the issue for like ten minutes) and promises to be a better person (better core?).

Edgar

Edgar LOVES his human body, he can finally do all the things he dreamed of doing. He can enjoy music, food, going outside, he becomes a pretty extreme extrovert for a while before settling down. He's just so curious about humans and wants to try EVERYTHING.

Edgar desperately wants to be a part of Miles and Madeline's life again. When he does eventually meet them again he puts on his sweetest/most innocent act, trying to charm them. He's a bit less innocent/more jaded now, so it takes a while for him to feel like he deserves love again. (My personal opinion: the ideal outcome here is a polyamorous relationship with the three of them. xP)

#ask

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ghoulbread · 7 months

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TMC characters getting transported to Moominvalley would be such a breath of fresh air for them (quite literally in some cases... thatcher im staring directly at you)

i cant think of HOW they would get there, but i feel like they would sorta. stumble down a hill and realize theyre no longer in Mandela County, Wisconsin.

all the characters that have died (jonah, dave lee, mark and cesar, ruth, etcetc) would be revived, because im NOT leaving them out. thered be either a heartfelt reunion and*/or a weird, awkward "i dont really know you, do i?" reunion (* is for mark and sarah)

the revived would have scars where their fatal wounds would be. theyd wear their usual outfits, to really cement in that they are Not supposed to be here. all of them would be their current selves, so adam would be all alternate-y... (hes not the most terrifying thing in moomin valley by a long shot)

theyd all kinda. congregate around each other, figuring out what to do and where to go. mark would sort of... distance himself from cesar. its not that he doesnt like his friend, its just that his death (that hes now suddenly revived from) traumatized him. cesar understands.

snufkin, wanderer as he is, comes across the group. he's surprised by how many... mumriks? there are. (humans dont really exist in the moominvalley universe...closet is mumriks, which snufkin and joxter are)

he leads them to the moomin house, where the tmc cast get Scared cuz like. little my decides to appear out of nowhere. its a whole thing.

adam gets the Most attention cuz hes all grey and melty and WEIRD so they keep asking What he is, if hes a Mumrik hybrid, whats with the grey skin, etc (most are Little My's prodding. Snufkin drags her away to let Adam breathe)

Moominmama is out in the garden, and Moomintroll runs to greet Snufkin... and... a gaggle of mumriks? in odd clothing...

all of them are terrified of the Moomin's because uhm. big hippo-like creatures are TALKING. aninmals arent supposed to TALK.

there are... so many scnarios. @localvoidcat pspspspsps thanks for the inspo in that one reblog chain. im rotating them in my mind

#long post

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mrslittletall · 1 year

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Okay, I guess after five acts and 4k pages of Homestuck, you all want to know my opinion (TM). First, I can't believe y'all acted like this is a totally cringy webcomic. I thought it would be like the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comics, totally unreadable and people are just in for the memes. Nobody, absolutely nobody told me I would get thrown into a heartfelt story about a group of juveniles whose lives are getting upside down by a game they played, a game that seems to be responsible for them even existing. And the music! I heard that Toby Fox made music for the game, but not only him, all the other composers who worked on the soundtrack are like GOD TIER?! I have Bl1nd Jus1c3 in the background while I write that and will probably listen to another song before I am finished. And yeah, it started a little bit funny. But it was not "Watch John get into shenanigans with his sylladex" for long. The moment sburb started and the alchemiter was down and the countdown started, things started to slowly click in place already. I talked to people on Discord a bit once I reached act five and one of them said "Some people seemto think you can start at act 5." I disagree! You NEED acts 1 and 4 to truly get the whole world building. Also it is very important to get to know John, Rose, Dave and Jade. I would have been VERY confused if I would have started with act 5. So, what do I think of the trolls? I think it is clear that making twelve new characters was a bit much, so the author killed like half of them off before they could really shine, which meant that characters like Eridan never grew over "jerk status". It is clear that around half of the trolls are mostly developed and with them I mean mostly Karkat, Terezi, Vriska, Kanaya and Aradia. And let's talk about Vriska a bit. I am not saying that she was right with anything, she was a selfish bitch for the whole session and seemed to want to get things rights by her doing alone, practically dooming everyone else. Yeah, Terezi's standoff with her was amazing, but... in the dream bubble with doomed John, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. That was a girl cracked by pressure who wished she could have done things else... In the end, it was all her fault, even her own death, but it feels like in another time, in another live, she could have done better. She's a great character, I give her that. Not a great human (troll?) being, but a great character. From the trolls, I ended up liking Terezi the most with Karkat as a close second. The way he was apologizing for giving cancer to the kid's universe... and his sign is quite literally cancer. That got to me, really. In the end, it all felt so very very sad. It was downright hard to keep reading through the pinned panels, because they all felt so hopeless and doomed. And it all culminated in this absolutely amazing 13 minute animation which I learned did crash newgrounds the first time it got uploaded. I am sure I am still not getting everything, but the world building, the characters, this thing is good and I am honestly a bit mad you made me believe it would be the cringiest thing ever.

#little reads stuff #homestuck

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themosleyreview · 1 year

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The Mosley Review: Knock at the Cabin

Ya know, as far as apocalyptic films goes.....wait a second. Has it really been at least 5 years since we've had another one of these type of films. Yeah sure you could count the big blockbusters The Tomorrow War or maybe A Quiet Place, but those are more in line with post apocalyptic and time travel. I'm talking about the films that build to the inevitable destruction of everything we know. This film decided to go the other way and bring back that classic amount of tension and fear of the unknown. Is the apocalypse actually happening or are the antagonists of the film delusional? Is the evidence being presented as fact or a well crafted deception? Those are the many questions you begin to ask yourself throughout the film and I loved that. Although the tension, intensity and pain were very well portrayed, I couldn't help the feeling that the subtlety of each was quickly starting to falter and overstay their welcome. There are some moments of pure illogical behavior that were almost unforgivable and I won't spoil them here. Lets just say that there is an item that changes the tide in the struggle that any normal person would have ready to dispatch an intruder with at all times.

Ben Aldridge was great and combative as Andrew. I liked that he was the most skeptic in the couple as the clues presented themselves of whether what was happening was real or not. Johnathan Groff was loving and kind as his husband in the film, Eric. He represented the heart of the relationship and he was the most understanding and inquisitive. Kristen Cui was outstanding as Wen and I loved her pureness of heart. She was genuinely curious, but smarter than most kids in films like these and I appreciated that. The three of them were a lovely family and you feel the love they all shared for each other. Dave Bautista has continued to truly surprise me with the ever growing quality of his dramatic performances. As Leonard, he was so charismatic, heartfelt and remorseful as he reluctantly has to follow the path laid before him. I loved the opening scene with him and Wen as you see that friendly giant spirit within him shine. That scene set the tone of the film and he led it to so effortlessly. Nikki Amuka-Bird is one of the best at delivering true heartbreak, determination and yet care. As Sabrina, she did all of that and helped truly sell the nurturing nature of the character. Abby Quinn was excellent as Adriane and I loved that she was actually pleading for some sort of savior. She may be the very confident one of the group, but she really had a kindness in her eyes as she divulged her life before ending up in this situation. Rupert Grint blew me away as Redmond. He was a harder edged character that truly was full of pain, trauma and regret that I really felt sorry for. He nearly stole the film in his moments and it was great to see him back on the big screen again in a role I didn't know he could portray so powerfully.

The score by Herdís Stefánsdóttir was haunting, pulse pounding and emotionally charged in the best moments of the film. The only negatives I felt about the score is that it sometimes telegraphed or tried to force you to feel a certain way in a number of scenes. Sometimes a film can be over scored and I believe this one was one of them. The power of silence can really deliver the best tension or scares and I wish there was more of that in this film. Aside from one of the biggest mistakes a character could make happening in the latter part of the film, I did enjoy this apocalyptic tale. It delivers great tension and mystery, but it does lack some breathing room to truly make it as memorable as it could've been.

#knock at the cabin #johnathan groff #ben aldridge #kristen cui #dave bautista #nikki amuka-bird #abby quinn #rupert grint #m night shyamalan

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jesse-eisenberg-interview · 2 years

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Jesse Eisenberg Talks About Shifting From Acting to Directing, Working With Julianne Moore and Emma Stone in ‘When You Finish Saving the World’

Midway through the Sarajevo Film Festival, local fest publications seized on a quote that Jesse Eisenberg had given in Q&As that week: Sarajevo, the actor-writer-director said, is his favorite city in the world. From some stars, that would be an empty soundbite; from Eisenberg, who stayed at the festival for several days to explore local culture and history, it was entirely heartfelt.

The festival, meanwhile, returned his love, presenting him with an honorary Heart of Sarajevo Award, and hosting an open-air screening of his directorial debut, “When You Finish Saving the World,” a bittersweet satire of generational conflict, and the contemporary nuances of charity and activism. We invited him to the Variety Lounge presented by Sarajevo Film Festival and BH Telecom to talk through the challenges of switching from acting to directing, working with Julianne Moore and Emma Stone, and the most unexpected of his upcoming roles.

“Maybe unconsciously I thought I could direct a movie, but I never allowed myself to think of it explicitly, because it just feels like such a cliche,” says Eisenberg — who was Oscar-nominated in 2011 for playing Mark Zuckerberg in David Fincher’s generation-defining “The Social Network,” but this time opted to stay behind the camera. Adapting a story he originally conceived as an audio drama for Audible, he retained “Stranger Things” star Finn Wolfhard from the audio cast, but brought on Moore as the brittle do-gooder mother of Wolfhard’s socially awkward teen.

Directing actors, however, brought out his nerves. “I’ve received so many bad notes in my life as an actor,” he explains. “I was so unnecessarily fearful that I’d be giving them to my actors.” With Moore, however, he hardly had to worry: “She’s the best,” he says simply, adding that like him, she gravitates toward characters who are “very cold and very warm at the same time, their coldness [coming] from their own insecurities rather than their own malice.”

The film also marks an unlikely reunion between Eisenberg and his old “Zombieland” co-star Stone, who likewise flexes her off-screen muscles, having produced “When You Finish Saving the World” with her husband Dave McCary. Despite branching out like his, however, Eisenberg is eager to return to acting, and speaks with particular excitement of a surprising upcoming role in a film from fraternal directing duo David and Nathan Zellner. “I play a Sasquatch: full makeup, full body hair, no lines. I grunt, but no lines,” he says with a laugh. “I’m so looking forward to this.”

SOURCE

#jesse eisenberg #2022 #when you finish saving the world

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doodler-jpeg · 2 years

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Friendly Anon here!

As a disturbing Homestuck, could I request some Beta kids, pinning headcannons?

Thank you!! Take your time and say hydrated!! <3

I’m still not entirely sure if I should include June or John, so I’m including both, just in case

CW// none, I think?

JOHN

Lets be honest, John most likely doesn’t understand some of his emotions, especially ones like love

John is someone who makes his attraction towards you really obvious, even if he doesn’t try to do so

He’s a goofball and shows his affection in the form of cheesy pick up lines and puns

One time, him, Dave, and you were hanging out at Dave’s apartment, playing GTA, and he stops, turns to you with a cheeky grin, and goes “you better call Lester quick because you are definitely five stars.”

Safe to say Dave is not allowing either of you to communicate with each other near his home.

Whenever he has the time, he pesters you first as soon as he gets onto Pesterchum, even if you’re not awake

It’s like getting a good morning text, but it’s not a good morning text and more so a “I hope you have a wonderful day that’s not filled with your father consistently making cake so much that it fills your house with a permanent scent of cake that you’ll never be able to get rid of because it’s been filled with cakes since the moment your father learned how to bake”

What can he say, he’s a romantic

JUNE

June, like John, is into cheesy pick up lines and doesn’t understand her emotions too well

The only real difference is she’s, somehow, smoother at it than John is because she has a better grasp at how she experiences love compared to him

Whenever she’s around you, she can’t help but blush and give you a grin that’s filled with slightly crooked, white teeth

She’s all warm and fuzzy around you and just wants to see you smile

June will absolutely become focused on interests that you like in order to know more about you as a person

She probably won’t confess until she’s sure her feelings are there and won’t go away [she’d feel absolutely horrible if they went away as soon as the two of you got together]

ROSE

Rose is very nonchalant about it

Yes, she absolutely gets flustered around you, but it’s to a certain degree

She’s not very good with confrontation, so she just keeps to herself most of the time

Rose is most likely out of the beta kids to be completely blunt about her feelings, though, so it’s a weird mix up of “keep your feelings to yourself” and “say that you like this person so you don’t have it flooding your mind all the time”

If she decides to keep her emotions bottled up, eventually, she’s gonna end up writing her feelings out in a heartfelt letter

And then she completely scraps it and throws it into a fire

If Rose decided to be upfront about her feelings, she’s prepared for all kinds of scenarios [she’s really not]

She thinks it’s like the “one sided lovers” trope, but then again, she doesn’t know about any of your feelings towards her that aren’t considered “friendly”, so she may be wrong

DAVE

Dave has no clue what he’s doing

He tries, he really does, to tell anyone about his feelings, but it ends up with him going back to saying that it’s purely for ironic reasons

You know Pesterquest? In Dave’s volume where he gets all flustered when talking about his crush on John? Yeah, imagine that, but with you instead of John

If and when he ever tells his friends, he’ll just start rambling about you

How you make him feel, how he sees you, what he’d do if you were together

There’s enough evidence to make a 1,894 page essay about his reasons to like you

It’s really sweet

JADE

Jade is upfront with you

She knows how to deal with her feelings and doesn’t back down

She’s very affectionate toward you compared to the others, asking for your thoughts on things more than the others, and just generally tries to talk to you whenever she’s able to

Jade trusts you a lot, and her feelings reflect that with how much she seems to depend on your opinions

If you don’t accept her advancements, I will 🦀

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allisoooon · 2 years

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Klaus never told his siblings about the fact he’d summoned Ben - it was more of a plot point in s2, but the siblings clearly didn’t know about Ben in s1 either (best example being when he tried to tell them in the bowling alley & they didn’t believe him)

I don’t really know what to make of this, since Ben clearly missed his siblings a lot and Klaus knew that, and vice versa (ie Diego/Vanya & Bens interactions)??

(Also when Ben & Klaus argue, all the things Ben says are valid: as much as I disagreed with Ben possessing him then kissing Jill, Klaus also slept with her knowing Ben liked her, all while pretending not to even know Jill’s name, which isn’t exactly good behaviour on his behalf either)

I spend a lot of time trying to un-sugar-coat this relationship, and I feel like these characters are too often let off the hook for their treatment of each other, but I’m gonna try to be fair to them both here.

I’m not sure if Klaus never tried to tell the others about Ben. I’m not sure he’d hear the end of it from Ben if he kept it to himself, and he might try just to shut him up. It’s been many years since then, as opposed to the few days he keeps Ben hidden from them on the show. That could be a lot of years of heartfelt pleading Klaus would have to be some kind of sociopath to ignore. He couldn't even handle Ben badgering him about Dave for five minutes without caving. I don't think Ben would have given up easily if it had been his siblings.

The others may not have believed Klaus at the bowling alley, or the first hypothetical time he told them about Ben, because Klaus tends to run off at the mouth. Things Klaus has alluded to that probably aren’t true include dating twins more than once, sleeping with multiple Baldwin brothers, and waxing his ass with chocolate pudding. Addiction also brings out the liar in you pretty strongly. Moreover, what Klaus was saying seemed impossible—a ghost saved Diego’s life and punched him in the face. We’re not talking about them not believing he can see Ben. We’re talking about them rejecting his entire story because of details that make no sense.

I don’t think Klaus knew Ben liked Jill until the morning he tried to confess to the rest of his cult. Before this point, Ben was being extremely vague about why he wanted to remain with the cult, and the most specific he ever got was that “I have unfinished business.” While Klaus is doing yoga, Ben slips up and starts describing Jill’s “almond-shaped eyes you get lost in” in a dreamy voice. Klaus immediately sits up, his entire face lighting up like this is simultaneously the cutest thing he has ever seen and something he is sooooo going to start teasing Ben about. If this reaction is anything to go by, Klaus had no idea he’d slept with Ben’s crush.

Even then, I don’t think he knew. The implication is that Klaus has so much indiscriminate sex that he doesn’t remember which of his followers is “Jill.” I don’t think he was obfuscating here.

Lastly, the whole possession thing seems to be a metaphor (which is subjective as fuck and is going to depend on the viewer’s interpretation) for the lack of boundaries Klaus and Ben have. But as much grief as Ben gets for this episode, they did explicitly negotiate the rules around sex. I say negotiate, but it was Ben being quiet and letting Klaus set the limits. And to his credit, once those ground rules were set, he followed them.

Their struggle to gain control over Klaus’ body is where I see boundaries being crossed, but like…that’s kind of the point of the metaphor. Unless things are spelled out between them, any gray areas are fair game. Usually when they do try to set boundaries with each other, it's spur of the moment and the follow-through isn't always great. Before this, Klaus fully expects Ben to be a last-minute accomplice to stealing a truck just so he doesn’t have to wait for a bus. This moment, as well as the “Your business is my business!” scene, are great examples of one setting boundaries and the other getting pissed about it.

But let’s be real, I’m not sure these kids were taught about boundaries. Even if they were, they tend to go right out the window in a relationship as codependent as this one. Still, even though they’re very bad to each other sometimes, they’re not monstrous.

#ben hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #tua #the umbrella academy #tua meta #ask answered

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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

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The Purest Things-Damaged

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of rape, murder, and cheating. Canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: and so we begin our descent into the world of slow-burn! this piece begins at the end of season 3 episode 13 & carries into seasons 3 episode 14. thank you to everyone who has interacted with my stories, commenting and reposting helps creators so much! enjoy this installment :)

The Purest Things Masterlist

Gif Credit: @hqtchner

january 2008

Bookend: “We are all damaged. We have all been hurt. We have all had to learn painful lessons. We are all recovering from some mistake, loss, betrayal, abuse, injustice or misfortune. All of life is a process of recovery that never ends. We each must find ways to accept and move through the pain and to pick ourselves back up....Each tragedy is an announcement that some good will indeed come in time. Be patient with yourself.” ― Bryant McGill

Another day, another murderer locked away. This case proved that sometimes, the so-called "good guys" can be just as selfish as the "bad guys." The special agent who recruited the BAU's help, Jill Morris, used this case to obtain personal fame and grow her career.

You sit next to Rossi aboard the plane. He had a more personal interaction with Morris throughout the case, and you can tell her actions have left him more than disappointed.

Looking out the window at the sun setting behind the clouds, you mumble to yourself, "What's the difference?"

"Did you say something?" Dave speaks up.

Looking to him, you brush it off, "Oh. Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

He crosses his legs and smiles a warm smile at you, "Penny, for your thoughts then."

"I guess...I just don't understand how Jill Morris's motives can be any different from Jeremy Andrus's. Of course, Jill didn't murder or rape anyone. But, she exploited this case for her own personal benefit. She didn't just use the unsub; she exploited the victims as well. How is that any different than Jeremy using women for his own gratification?"

David sighs, "Aristotle said, 'Every practical pursuit or undertaking seems to aim at some good.' Our brains are wired for love and solidarity. Greed forms to undermine that wiring and trick others into believing that their means to an end is done for "good." People believe that to maintain that myth, any and all costs to others are simply casualties in the long run."

"There is all the difference in the world between helping another soul and exploiting their hardship for your own gain and deceiving yourself that they are the same," he continues, "I tried to show Jill that. But, I think she's already determined that the reason she does this job is not for the same reasons that we do. The rush of catching a suspect comes second to the excitement she gets when being praised for her achievement."

"What happened to her empathy," you wonder, "Empathy is a natural foundation in each of our lives, and our society functions on it! How could that not overpower her desire for recognition? I mean, for Christ's sake, her friend just died!"

"Unfortunately," he solemnly says, "It is harder to understand the motives of our peers than it is to profile a serial killer."

+++++

You wake as if there is an emergency, like sleeping had become a deadly thing, your heart pounds, and thoughts jumble throughout your brain. Shooting up from your seat, you crawl over a sleeping Rossi and stumble your way to the bathroom.

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the edge of the sink. Looking cautiously into the mirror, as if you are uncertain of what you'll see, you take in your ghostly appearance. Sweat beads drip down your forehead. Unable to comprehend the blurry remnants of your dream, you turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you notice everyone is sound asleep. Thank goodness no one noticed your state of panic. You notice that one overhead reading light is on and look to see Hotch awake and blankly staring out the window.

"Can't sleep either?" You ask, sitting across from him.

"Are you alright?" He asks, trying to deflect your attention.

You squint at him, unwilling to back down, "Are you?"

He looks at you intently, taking the sight of you in inch-by-inch. No one has asked him that over the past few weeks. In fact, everyone has seemingly been avoiding him since he was served his divorce papers. Perhaps they are doing it because they are unsure how to support him or genuinely feel that what he needs right now is space.

However, you know that being alone is the last thing he needs right now. "Hotch, I know it isn't my place, and I--I'm sorry if this is overstepping. But that expression on your face that you've worn for the past few weeks isn't foreign to me. Perhaps to everyone else, it is. They don't know what to do or say. You're their unit chief, and they are used to you being strong and keeping it together for the sake of everyone else."

He straightens his posture, his attention centered on you.

"I witnessed firsthand the ways that divorce can torment people. My parents got a sudden divorce when I was 14. It was unexpected to all of us. My father was unfaithful, and although my mom was willing to forgive him, he didn't want to put in the work anymore. He found a new outlet for his frustrations. I watched my mother and father waste away for years," you lament.

Hotch sits on the edge of his seat, his eyes trained keenly on you. It was odd for him to make a connection so quick, to give his trust so easily. In fact, he hardly trusts at all. Dave and Haley are the only ones who have really been given an insider's peek into the mind and heart of Aaron Hotchner. There was something in the way he listens so actively to what you are saying. You would be lying if you said you didn't notice his gaze aimed at your lips.

There is a sympathetic and heartfelt concern he shows for you, one second only to your own regard for him. He listens like he is absorbing your words. The longer you spend in each other's presence, the more you both realize that this is the kind of friendship you both have needed for far too long. Even if the words go unspoken, you share an empathetic understanding of one another, and you are sure it has been there since the day you met. Hotch has been fascinated by you since he watched your interview with Strauss over and over again, though he would never let it be known.

+++++

February 2008

Today is the day that you get to accompany Hotch and Reid on the Criminal Personality Research Project to interview Chester Hardwick before his execution. Hardwick's case is one you know inside and out. You wrote a research report on it that was awarded the Graduate Student Ethics Writing Competition winner for the American Psychological Association and was published in their Ethics and Behavior journal. Agent Hotchner suggested that you tag along, considering you know just as much about the case as Spencer does.

You and Spencer absentmindedly fiddle with the knickknacks that rest upon the desk as you wait to be escorted to see Chester Hardwick.

Hotch's phone begins to ring, and he answers it, "Yeah, J.J... Um, no, it's--It's a personal matter. Yes, thank you. I will take care of it when I get back."

"Everything okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah, fine." He says abruptly.

"We can do this interview another time," Reid offers.

Aaron huffs, "Well, he is scheduled to be executed next week."

"I can take the lead on the interview if you w-" Reid unintentionally pushes.

You cut him off, "Reid."

Hotch shoots you an appreciative look.

Anytime sir.

"Agent Hotchner?" A relatively short man wearing freakishly petite glasses comes to the door.

The Unit Chief shakes the man's hand and introduces you and Spencer.

"You're here to see our infamous inmate Hardwick," the warden exclaims.

"Yes," you say, "He agreed to meet with us as part of our Criminal Personality Research Project before his execution."

The man smiles widely, "I've read your research on Hardwick many times. I must say, seeing your perspective on the mind of such a prolific killer was very enlightening."

You beam with pride at his commendation. Instinctively you look to Hotch, who appears to have the slight trace of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You wonder, how can he go from scowling and frustrated one minute to fighting back the urge to smile at the mention of your achievements? You bite your lip to suppress any further needless excitement.

The warden continues to ramble, "Serial killers are kind of a hobby of mine. Chester is the only one I've ever met in person, though. I bet you've met quite a few."

"Sir," Hotch interjects, "We'd very much like to get started as soon as we can."

Time to put our serious pants back on.

You can visibly see your superior's annoyance, and you stifle a chuckle.

The warden quickly composes himself and apologizes for his enthusiasm, touching his hand to Hotch's shoulder in the process. Hotch's mouth falls agape, and his sights shoot to you. A small snort escapes you, and you cover your mouth, attempting to conceal it as a cough. He squints at you as if he is mentally murdering you. You crinkle your nose at him.

Don't mentally murder me when we are about to interview one of the most prolific killers of our time.

The warden leads you into the small cell that you will convert into a makeshift interrogation room. Soon enough, you hear the clanking of chains echoing in the hallway. Everyone's eyesight is fixed on the door.

A silver-haired man dressed in a yellow jumpsuit walks in with an air of arrogance and determination. He glares at Agent Hotchner, who mirrors the prisoner's actions exactly. Hotch states that keeping the prisoner chained will not be necessary, a call that both you and Spencer are unsure of.

Hardwick sits across from you and leans into the table, "I know you."

"And I know you. Too well, I think," you respond.

A menacing grin sweeps across his face, "Oh, I like you already. How about you send these two away so the grown-ups can talk."

You can hear your boss scoff from behind you.

"Chester, it's time to get serious."

"You were born April 4, 1950?" Spencer asks.

"Does my birthday really matter?"

"It's customary for us to start at the beginning. We want to know as much as we can about your childhood," Reid continues.

"There's nothing to know. It was average. I lived in a nice house on a quiet street. I ate cereal, went to school, watched cartoons."

"I don't have time for this," Hotch raises his voice, causing you to jump slightly, "You grew up in a series of projects, each one worse than the last. You spent your teenage years peeping into your female neighbors' windows and burglarizing their underwear drawers when you got the chance. You set 100 small fires for which you spent 2 years in juvenile detention."

You glance at Reid from the corner of your eye; you are both uncomfortable with the direction Hotch is taking this.

"We've done extensive research, Mr. Hardwick," you say, gently trying to soften the blow and appeal to the man's ego. If Hotch is taking the bad cop role, you need to be this psychopath's ally.

"We've talked to almost everyone you've ever known," you continue, "including your mother."

Chester swivels on the balls of his feet, "Good ol' Jean? I'll bet she was a real treat."

"At this point, lying to us isn't really possible or helpful," Spencer offers a slight smirk to the man.

"Y/N, right?" the prisoner turns his attention to you, "They're wrong. They're all wrong."

"About what, Chester?" You implore him.

"I started a lot more than one hundred fires," he peers out the window.

You look up at Hotch, and he sighs in surrender.

Chester antagonizes you three, stating that no one care's whether or not they hear the truth. In between his jabs, he strays to various different series of thoughts. Most are meaningless, but it is his way of trying to get under your skin. For you and Spencer, it is relatively easy to maintain your composure. For Hotch, however, Hardwick's digs do nothing but add fuel to the already lit flame under the special agent.

"Let's talk about the specifics of this case, Chester," you interrupt his rant, "Why did you choose Sheila O'Neal?"

He shakes his head, "You gotta show me a picture. I don't know their names."

As if you can feel Hotch's anger radiating off of his body, you brace yourself for the oncoming strike.

"Is that what this is all about," he says disgustedly, "Some chance for you to relive all of this?"

"I have an excellent memory," Chester brags.

You tune his impassionate speech out and focus your observance on your boss. His scalding stare at Hardwick can only translate one way, 'I have initiated my emotional indifference. I could kill you and not care one bit. So proceed with caution.'

"They were toys, a diversion," you hear Hardwick chant as you tune back into the present. Hotch looks anywhere but at the killer in front of him, his gaze eventually landing you. You are some kind of shelter to him that neither of you has yet acknowledged or come to understand.

Your stomach churns at Chester's descriptions of his victims. He describes them as useless objects that, once their purpose was served, were discarded like garbage.

"Why did you ask us here?" Hotch charges.

The wicked man looks at you, his eyes void of a soul and his stare sending a chill down your veins.

"I wanted to speak to her."

Your breath catches at the back of your throat.

With that, Hotch straightens up and fervently positions himself between Chester and you. "Reid, pack it up," he commands.

Reid looks to you, "Are you sure?"

"No, now." Your superior repeats himself with even more fervor. He presses the buzzer to signal the guards to release us and says, "Have a nice trip. You're going where you belong." Hotch makes sure to put as much distance between you and Hardwick as possible. He buzzes the ringer again. No response.

"It's 5:17," Hardwick chuckles.

You close your eyes, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Reaching out for Hotch's arm, you lower his hand from the buzzer. "The evening yard begins at 5 o'clock. No one is going to come open that door for-"

"At least thirteen minutes," Chester disrupts. He waltzes over the table and takes one of the images of his victims into his hand. Holding it up as if to brag to us about it, he says, "And it took me less than five minutes to do this."

You push aside your worry. Instead, you choose to focus on all of the information you have accumulated over the years about Chester Hardwick. There has to be something you can use to your advantage to diffuse this situation.

"Perhaps in all of your research, you should have familiarized yourselves with the guard tones," Hardwick jeers.

"I heard the tones," Hotch counters in a monotone voice.

"So you planned to be locked inside with me, with no guns or weapons."

Hotch shakes his head, his voice more natural than before, "I won't need a gun."

Spencer places his hand on your arm and begins to guide you to the other side of the room.

"There's no way I am going to be executed next week," Chester taunts, kneading his hands together. "Not after I kill three FBI agents. You saved my life by coming here." His venomous words ring in your ears.

Hotch's tone deepens, "Unfortunately for you, I am not a five-foot-one-hundred-pound girl."

Your pulse quickens at Hotch's threat, and your attention is rapt by his display of dominance. He begins to shed his jacket. You feel yourself flushing; attraction suddenly entangles you as if it were an invisible rope.

Now is the worst possible time to be feeling this. Calm down.

"All of your life, you've gone after victims who couldn't fight back," he fiercely says, "and the rest of the time you spent looking over your shoulder." You understand the intensity in his tone and sense a great deal of emotion behind his words.

He rips his tie from his collar, and your breathing hitches in the back of your throat. Hopefully, Spencer doesn't notice, and if he does, he chalks it up to the deadly situation you find yourself in.

"You were always worried about the knock on the door," Hotch doesn't back down, "Scared that somebody like me would be on the other side waiting to put you away."

Well, if you keep ripping your tie off like th--no. Not gonna go there right now. Focus on the pyshco-killer threatening to kill you.

Now, Hotch intimidatingly points his finger directly at Hardwick.

If only I were on the receiving end of tha--no! Now. Is. Not. The. Time.

"At your core, you are a coward," Hotch fires.

You have to do something. Hardwick is enraged, and Hotch has nothing left to lose.

Without even giving it a second thought, you blurt out, "Chester, do you want to know why you killed those women?"

"What?" The prisoner hisses.

Spencer speaks up, "Earlier, you said you wished you were different. We can tell you why you are...what you are."

He begins moving towards you, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice your boss carefully making equal strides. You motion for him to stop.

"You can tell me why I did what I did?"

"I think so," you nod, "Don't you, Dr. Reid?"

"I do. Your mother is bipolar. And almost certainly an undifferentiated schizophrenic. Your father suffered severe shell shock in the war, what we now refer to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. As far as I can tell, he remained clinically depressed the rest of his life."

"Exactly," you say, giving Spencer a chance to gather his thoughts after having thrown him under the bus.

"53% of all serial killers have some form of mental illness inherent to their families. Chester, in your case, both of your parents suffered from psychological disorders, which they essentially took out on each other as much as they beat you. So, violence sort of became a normal expression of love in your household," you say, eager to have some kind of breakthrough with him while subliminally directing Spencer's string of thoughts to follow yours.

Allowing Reid to pick up where you leave off, he takes charge of the conversation and explains how a portion of one's brain wants what it wants without conscience or judgment. A part of the brain that no doubt took over Hotch's reasoning powers moments ago, though you do not blame him.

"Earlier, you said your victims never had a chance. I think you know deep down that it was you that never really had a chance," he concludes. And with that victorious resolution, the guards unlock the door. Hotch storms out, and Reid follows behind.

"Is that true that I never had the chance?" Hardwick calls out after you both.

You stop in your tracks, "I don't know."

"Maybe," Spencer nudges you out the door.

++++

In the car, Hotch looks at you in the rearview mirror, "That was smart to get Hardwick to focus on himself long enough for the guards to come back."

You pat Spencer's shoulder, "I give all the credit to boy wonder and his beautiful statistic-filled brain. I'm sorry for all of the times I said you were running out of storage with all of that useless data."

"I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror," he declares, "Wait. Useless data? When did you say that?"

You pinch him softly and chuckle, "I'm kidding."

"I'm sorry," Hotch sighs.

You meet his gaze in the mirror once again, "For what?"

His chestnut eyes reveal pangs of remorse and guilt, but something tells you there's more to those feelings than what occurred at the prison.

"I antagonized the situation."

"No, you didn't," Spencer states.

"I certainly didn't help."

"Well, I can't argue with you there," you kid.

His piercing eyes suddenly twinkle, causing you to blush slightly. You quickly look down at your feet until your cheeks cool down.

Hotch sighs in defeat, "So Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested so that nobody wastes money on lawyers."

That statement is all too familiar to you. Yet again, your heart shatters for the Hotchners.

"You don't want to?" Spencer asks innocently.

He means well, but you know from experience that such a question only unleashes a tidal wave of painful emotions for the one fighting for his family.

"What I want, I'm not going to get," Hotch laments.

His eyes, once filled with depth, now distant and empty.

++++

Glancing up from your paperwork and into your supervisor's office, you take note of his gravity-drawn shoulders that carry the weight of the world on them. He repeatedly picks up a stack of papers and then drops them back down atop his desk, covering his face with his hands.

"What do you think is going on up there?" Derek asks, pointing his pen in the direction of the office.

"I might have an idea. I'm going to go take my report; anyone else's done?" They all hand you their paperwork for you to deliver to the boss.

You hesitate to knock on his door but apprehensively do so anyways.

He invites you in. Your heart sinks as you approach his desk, able to get a closer look at his beaten expression. You always knew he was hiding pain behind his tough exterior, but now he wears it on the surface, most likely unintentionally.

Placing the paperwork on his desk, you notice the heading on the papers he was gripping tightly.

SUPREME COURT STATE OF VIRGINIA: MARITAL SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT

Hotch's eyes move slowly, laboriously, to look at you as if it takes a concentrated effort to do so.

"Heartache is a real thing," you sympathize with him, "In fact, Reid even told me that a broken heart can show up on medical scans. When a heart breaks, your body and brain need time to recuperate. There's no set amount of time or remedy that will heal you. Don't set your expectations of yourself too high, and surround yourself with the people who love you."

His chin trembles, and his eyes flutter as he blinks back tears.

You turn to leave the room but look over your shoulder one last time, "We are all here for you, Hotch."

Just as you are about to shut the door, you hear him call out to you, "Y/L/N!"

His stare reveals a vulnerability you have had yet to see in him.

"Call me Aaron."

Tag List 🏷

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luv-eddiediaz · 2 years

Text

It began with a red and yellow card on Eddie's 35th birthday that read: Is this the birthday when you start asking life's big questions? Like 'why did I come into this room and what for?" In return, when Buck turned 31, his card had a picture of a beaver holding a beer, and it said: Here's to another dam birthday.

Their entire relationship started to be cataloged, through cards: Christmas, Valentine's Day, anniversaries. Most of them were silly, but some were heartfelt, like the one Eddie left in Buck's locker when they were on their third day of working opposite shifts that said: You make my heart do that thing. Every time, with I miss you scribbled in Eddie’s handwriting underneath.

One Christmas, Buck gave Eddie a black and white postcard of Santa putting a star up on a Christmas tree that said: I like it on top. Eddie responded with a Valentine's Day card that read: Roses are red, violets are blue, you have a nice butt and a pretty great d*ck too.

After only a little more than a year, they had shoe boxes full of cards put away but not forgotten after a week or two sitting out on the mantle, so when Buck started really thinking about proposing, there was only one way he could think to do it; with a card.

Buck waited in line at the coffee shop around the corner from his loft. He wasn’t there that often anymore because it was easier to be wherever Eddie and Christopher were. Still, he did keep a lot of stuff there - so did Chimney for some reason - and after grabbing some things he’d dropped off about a month ago, he needed coffee. So, he waited in line, and he waited on his phone for Maddie to pick up hers.

“Hello?”

“Hey Mads, you busy?”

“I have a two-year-old; I’m always busy.”

“Well, I sort of have a favor to give you.”

“You’re going to give me a favor?”

“Yes. I know Chimney is gone with Albert for the weekend and that Jee is a bit of a handful these days, so I’m going to gift you some help for the night.”

“Did you and Eddie have a fight? Do you need to sleep on my couch? You can just say that.”

“No, Eddie and I didn’t have a fight, and even if we did, I still have my own couch to sleep on. I was going to send Christopher over for the night.”

“Not that I don’t love Chris, and he’s an absolute angel with Jee, but why do I feel like this is more of a favor for you than for me?”

“I um - well, I wanna propose tonight, and I kinda just wanted to have the night for the two of us.”

“Oh my god, Evan! You’re gonna ask Eddie to marry you?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Of course, Chris can come spend the night. I mean, I was going to say yes anyway, but oh my god!”

“Great. Thank you. Now, can you call Eddie and ask him to bring over Chris?”

“Why do I have to call him?”

“So as to not raise any suspicion. Better yet, ask to talk to Chris and then ask him. He’s more likely to agree if Eddie isn’t asking him to do something.”

“He’s a full on teenager now, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and it’s terrifying.”

“Okay. I will call them.”

“Thank you, Maddie. Thank you.”

“Yea, yea. And good luck. Not that you’ll need it. Pretty sure that man would have married you after your first date; before it even.”

“Let’s hope you’re right. See ya later.”

“Bye.”

Buck moved up in line and ordered his flat white with a pump of caramel. He was taking his first sip back in his Jeep when his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text message from Eddie. Part of him really wanted to hear his voice right then, but another part was thankful he didn’t call, because Buck wasn’t sure he wouldn’t blurt out the question right then and there.

Maddie called and asked if Chris would go help her with Jee and some laundry, so I’m gonna drop him off in about twenty minutes.

Cool. I’m just leaving my apartment, so I probably won’t be there for another half hour or so.

Do you think you could stop at the store on your way back and get a few things?

What things?

Cinnamon Raisin Bread - Killer Dave’s

Yogurt - 3 strawberry, 4 vanilla

Flour

Baking Powder

Buck didn’t really need any of those things, but he needed Eddie to be gone a little bit longer, and he knew once Eddie was in the store, he would meander around for a while, especially since they’d just put out all their Christmas stock in the back.

Sure.

Thanks. Love you

Love you, too

The house was empty when he got there, and the first thing he did was clean up the small messes left behind from their morning together and the afternoon with just Eddie and Chris. He was too jittery to even think about turning on the stove, so he ordered from Eddie’s favorite Vietnamese place, and took a shower while he waited for it to come. His hair drip drying and a towel wrapped around his waist, Buck set out all the candles he could find; on the mantle, the coffee table, the desk by the front door, the dining room table, and lit each one. Sure, it was a terrible fire hazard, but it was romantic, and he set the fire extinguisher out in the corner just in case.

Buck slid into his favorite dark gray pants and tried on three different sweaters before he settled on the blush colored one Eddie bought him for his birthday, and was dressed just in time to answer the door for the food. He set it out on the table, and then found the bag he set down when he got home, took out the card, and propped it open in the middle of the table. Just in front of it, he set a small, black velvet box, opened to let the diamonds and silver shimmer along with the ceiling.

Surrounded by just candlelight and the fading sunshine of the day, Buck waited for Eddie to come home. He didn’t think he would be this nervous, but his leg bounced up and down as he sat on the couch. It wasn’t so much that he thought Eddie would say no, although they never actually talked about whether or not he would want to be married again. Buck was nervous about what it would mean to be someone’s husband, to be someone’s father; would he be able to live up to the expectations of those labels given that he’d hardly lived up to anyone's expectations ever before?

Buck heard Eddie’s truck pull up in the street, and a sweat broke out underneath his collar, then his heart started to beat wildly when he heard the door open and close. He was pretty sure, by the time Eddie opened the front door, he was going to pass out.

“What’s going on in here?” Eddie asked with a curious smile as he stood with four shopping bags in his hands, bits of red and glitter sticking out from most of them.

Buck reached out to take them from him, “dinner.”

“Fancy, romantic dinner. Did I miss something special?”

“Nope. It’s just Saturday. Why don’t we put these away a little later?” Buck suggested and set the bags down by the door, taking Eddie’s hand and pulling him further along.

“Okay. You’re being kind of weird, Buck. Is everything okay?”

“Yea. yea, it’s okay. Just, we have the house to ourselves and I thought we could make a nice night of it.”

Eddie smiled and leaned over to kiss Buck on the cheek, “that sounds great. Thank you.”

They reached the table, and it wasn’t even a second before Eddie spotted it, and he tripped a little on his own feet, almost taking Buck down with him, because Buck had a tight grip on his hand.

“Buck -”

“Oh yea,” he said with a nervous laugh, “that’s for you.”

“You didn’t; you’re not-” Eddie stumbled on his words as he stepped closer to the table and shaking, reached for the card first like the polite person he was. He ran his fingers over the words, trying to read them through the tears he hadn’t blinked out yet:

You are...My buddy. My flame. My best friend. My crush. My joy. My confidant. My honey. My babe. My partner. My spark. My passion. My solace. My shoulder. My strength. My desire. My love….My everything.

Will you Marry me?

“God, yes. Yes, Evan, I will marry you.” Eddie clutched the card in his hand and threw his arms around Buck.

“Really?” Buck asked through his own tears as he buried his face in Eddie’s neck, and pressed absent kisses there.

“Really. I love you, Buck.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

“And this card - this one we frame.”

Buck laughed, and lifted his head, so he was looking into Eddie’s glassy, soft brown eyes, “you really wanna marry me?” he asked again.

Eddie cupped Buck’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, “really, really,” he answered before kissing him.

#buddie #buddie fic #just a little something bc i thought about Buck giving Eddie and innapropriate card #and I laughed for too long and then came up with this!#only edited for major spelling mistakes #definitely not my A game

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imaginarydesires · 3 years

Text

Pedro Pascal

Character Preferences

How They React to You Saying You Love Them ♡

Warnings: fluff!

Notes: it's gender-neutral

❥ Dave York

This really depends entirely on your relationship prior, and how much he trusts you - which it being Dave, probably is about as far as he can throw you. Even if he loves you back, and knows he loves you, he won’t react well. He’ll think of his kids, the danger he’s putting you in by being with you - he’ll think of everything before finally realizing you don’t care and you love him anyway.

❥ Din Djarin

He’s an adorable idiot. He hears you, but it doesn’t clearly register in his head until you say it again. Then, he’s like a blue windows screen - literally unable to compute. He’s known he loves you - even without thinking the words. He watches the way you are with Grogu and imagines you as a clan of three, yet he didn’t expect you to vocalize it. He says it back quietly - his voice echoing inside the helmet. Then, seeing your face of uncertainty, he says it again, this time louder with the intention of making you know he means it.

❥ Ezra Prospect

He tries his absolute best to not lose his composure, but his smile says it all. He’s loved you for a while now - a lot longer than you loved him, he knew. But he was okay with that, because he loved you the whole time, and he got to watch you slowly fall in love with him too. He watched the words slowly fall more into place during every mission - during every joke he made, every nickname he called you, every obstacle you faced knowing he was there to lean on. He watched the slow-motion feature of your love form and enjoyed every minute. “Oh, moonbeam, you cannot imagine the genuine adoration I hold for you and only you."

❥ Frankie “Catfish” Morales

He kisses you before he even thinks about saying it back. He’s so enthralled in the moment all he can think about is wrapping his arms around you and never letting go. You made him feel things he never thought he’d find. You understood him. You were patient with his issues (especially the ptsd he claimed to not have). You gave him the kind of love he’d choose over anything. Now, he says I love you every chance he gets, and every time he says it, he means it just as much as the time before.

❥ Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

You almost expected a sarcastic comment or cheeky line because that is what Jack always does when there are genuine expressions of heartfelt emotion. It's his defensive mechanism - one he had learned to be very good at. But when you said those three words, he didn't have any deterrence at all. He felt a sincere happiness he had not felt in a long time. "Darlin', you're the love of my life." The words held a greater significance than any response you could have imagined. You spent your relationship trying to compare yourself to his first love, but with those words he granted you all of the reassurance you could have ever needed.

❥ Javier Pena

Terrified - he was undeniably terrified and the expression on his face showed that clearly. He had been thinking of those three little words for a while. He knew how sincerely he felt about you, and he knew if he was going to say those words to anyone, it would be you, but nonetheless, he could not escape his uncontrollable fear of commitment. You reassure him that you do not need him to say it back - that you knew how he felt about you, and if he wasn't ready to say it, that was okay. Later that same night, while you're laying in his arms, he blurts it out. There was no deep conversation attached to it - no profound declaration of adoration - just three simple words and a kiss on your forehead, but you it meant the world to the both of you.

❥ Marcus Moreno

He didn’t think he’d love again after the passing of his wife. He was too afraid to try. But hearing you say the words changed everything. The love he felt for you was unique and incomparable. He watched you with Missy, watching the way you treated her like your own - with patience and trust. He wanted you in his life, and in that moment, he realized he was willing to do anything if it meant waking up next to you every morning.

❥ Max Phillips

Well, there’s the way Max Phillips would react, and there’s the way an AU Max Phillips who actually has a heart would react... so we’ll delve into both because we can. The canon Max Phillips would probably laugh at you. I’m imagining the words “that’s adorable”, and then him trying to fuck you because you just confessed your love - so how could you say no to him now? And our beloved AU Max who only has a soft spot for you... well he’d probably push you away, but for different reasons. He’d hear those sweet words and wonder what possessed him to want to say it back. He wonder what it is about you that made him change his bachelor lifestyle. He’d kiss you passionately - allowing heat to build up before pausing to say it back. He just needed a little encouragement, and a little reminder of what he never wanted to lose.

❥ Maxwell Lord

Success has always been important to him, and in that moment of hearing you say those three little words, he thought he was the most successful man in the world. He didn't know what he did to deserve you, but through everything you stood by his side and encouraged him to grow. He loved you back immensely. You were everything he ever wanted. You had his ambition and fully supported any endeavor he wanted to embark on. When he imagined his pinnacle of success, he imagined you next to him taken care of and happy. He especially loved the way you treated Alistair as your own, always putting his wellbeing ahead of yours. He wanted you to be a part of his family, and he was willing to do anything to get that.

❥ Oberyn Martell

His belief in love was not nearly as intense as most others. He believed love came in many forms with many people. To him, it was less of an expression of commitment or responsibility and more of an elocution of passion. "My little dove, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and I will love you until my last dying breath." Of course, his love for you was far more profound than with his other lovers. Even prior to you revealing your sincerity for him, he had already spoken with Ellaria about his amorousness towards you and they agreed to include you in their vows.

❥ Pero Tovar

It is hard for him to understand why you love him. His mind raced with insecurities and hesitations. To him, you were the most alluring person he had ever met. You were sweet and soft and good. He was rough and hardened and damaged. His hesitation caused you concern, but he quickly reassured you. "Hermosa, I do not know why you choose a harsh mercenary like me, but I love you more than you will ever know and I always will."

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delaber · 3 years

Text

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 :-)

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #battle of the bay boys #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys #they gon fight #sorry rafa #sorry diggs #sorry reader

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

valentines cards with the boys x

on the left is his card for you, on the right is your card for him! + some reactions because they’re all funny/cute.

stiles x

involves a lot of cute laughing at getting each other kinda matching cards, and the sheriff laughs a lot at them. his has a lot of star wars related jokes inside and his smile just gets bigger and bigger each time she giggles. there’s a lot of kisses, and they spend the day watching the star wars movies, eating snacks, and ordering takeout.

stuart x

he blushes when he gets hers and she grins, pinching his cheeks and making it worse. eventually, when his face is bright red and he’s blushing like crazy, she gives in and they have a lot of little kisses. he feels better after that. it’s more about how they spend the day than the gifts and the cards.

thomas x

they don’t do a lot with gifts, he just gets her some flowers and she gets him some chocolates and such. he writes on both sides of the cards, a huge message about how much he loves her and he blushes and gets nervous while she reads it, before she inevitably tackles him in kisses and hugs and cries a little bit. he’s not so good at actually saying what he feels but he’s good at writing it down. she makes the ‘damnnnndelion’ joke several times throughout the day and he giggles & gets red cheeks every time and gives her a little kiss.

firefighter!tommy x

feels so bad that he got a dirty joke card when she got a cute firefighter card that she must’ve searched for online for ages and ordered specially. she loves it though, and says something like “is that a promise you intend to make good on today? all three?” and he groans because he has to work, but then he’s like “I promise, when I get in, I’ll make good on all three, all night.”

dave x

they both already knew it was going to be a dirty joke card because they had looked at the website together when they found it weeks prior, but they didn’t know which ones they were getting. they know they have nothing to do all day, and so it’s pretty much all spent hanging out being lazy. before they even have breakfast, she takes her instructions from his card. on monday, he sends her the most ill-timed nude on purpose while she’s in class, standing in the mirror with his cock in one hand and the card in the background as he grins.

mitch x

despite what the front of the card suggests, he actually does give her a really sweet heartfelt speech after making her breakfast in bed. she cries, and he kisses her until she stops, and says he knows he’s not the greatest and he’s not around sometimes, but he loves her. she feels bad that she didn’t get him a cute card and do a speech, and he just smirks and moves the empty plates form the bed while offering to help her with the ‘errands’ and kissing her.

sam x

sam laughs, loudly, and sends a picture of it his brother and says ‘who says tinder doesn’t work out?’ while she makes a joke of saying “what if I still have the receipt?” and he gasps a little, before dragging her into him and kissing her breathless while tickling her, until they’re both laughing and red in the face and breathless.

joel x

she doesn’t get to see him until after college classes, so she brings takeout food for dinner, and he is so grateful. they’re just broke college kids so he made her card and they don’t do many gifts but it’s perfect for them, and they have a super romantic evening together with candles and movies and a lot of cuddling. she thinks his card is really cute and he thinks hers is absolutely hilarious.

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whump-town · 4 years

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I'd like to hear more theories if you have them 🥺

When Jack goes to elementary school the teachers can’t figure what the hell is happening with his family. Hotch always picks him up on his first day but he can’t guarantee every day so the team doesn’t mind stepping in. JJ picks him up and the staff assumes she’s his mother but then Emily picks him up the next day and...? Well, one of them has to be his mom, right? Then Dave picks him up-- grandpa, that one’s not even hard. Then Morgan and Garcia and... Where are all of these people coming from and does Hotch run some kind of government-funded cult?

Jack and Henry refuse to wear matching socks for three years (from 10 to 13) before Henry has enough of this rebellious streak and caves to wearing matching socks once again. However, Jack is still getting a rise from Hotch over for his mismatch socks so he just-- he never matches them again. He turns into a thirty-year old father and is still not matching his socks

Every other weekend Jack and Henry spend the night at Rossi’s. It’s just like going to your grandparents but given that they don't have any (Hotch and Will’s father’s being dead and Haley’s too sick) Rossi si better than the next best thing. They continue this tradition even when they’re teens. Together, they go visit “Pops” and he stills supplies them with candies, games, and things they’re parents don’t want them to have.

The team has a unspoken rule about the couch on the jet: it’s for whoever is sick, injured, or going through something. The flip to the rule is, if you’re sick or injured you will be strong-armed onto the couch. There are no exceptions (*cough, cough* @hotch)

They all carry various “comfort” items for when someone is sick: Reid has a blanket, Morgan has Gatoraide, Hotch has Advil/Tylenol, JJ has a heating pad, Emily has those intant icepacks, and Rossi has hugs

Hotch and JJ didn’t leave Emily’s side after Doyle. The team was reeling with her loss and so they didn’t miss Hotch and JJ not being there. Hotch spent the most time with her, given that the team just expected him to close himself off. It was him that told Emily she was dead. When they sent her away he hugged her close for a moment and she didn’t let go until he was ready. She’ll never forget the shakey smile he’d sent her away with, tears falling down his cheeks

Reid can nap anywhere. Standing up. On the floor. Leaning against a wall. Anywhere. And when the team finds him sleeping they always guide him somewhere else and force him to take a good long nap.

Emily and Hotch show Reid what parents are supposed to be like. Hotch cuts him off after two poptarts (even thought Hotch really wants to stop him after one) and Emily always tucks the blanket closer to his body when he’s napping. He’s never been able to find the words to tell them just how much that meant to him.

Morgan and Hotch have shared hugs on many occasions but never so heartfelt or gut-wrenching as the ones after Foyet and Carl Buford. They silently let themselves into the other’s office. Pouring two generous cups of the finest alcohol they have to offer and mourn the boys they never got the chance to be. They mourn Haley and Morgan struggles to understand the pain he feels in the face of Buford’s death. They sit in one another’s silence and drink until the pain is numb and their heads are cloudy

The more I think about these the more that come to mind... I’m afraid I won’t ever stop

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newmusickarl · 3 years

Video

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Album & EP Recommendations

My word, the music world has well and truly spoiled us this week!

The past seven days has seen a colossal avalanche of new releases, so much so I’ve barely had chance to keep up with it all. Although this is not the full list of everything from the past seven days, here are the 16 (yes, 16!) new releases I’ve enjoyed the most this week.

As there is so much to get through the rundowns are (mostly) a bit shorter than normal and there is no single Album of the Week, instead I simply recommend checking out whichever album or track sounds most appealing depending on your preferred taste.

So without further ado then, here’s what’s good:

Californian Soil by London Grammar

It’s been four years since the release of London Grammar’s last record Truth Is A Beautiful Thing - an album that I enjoyed, but I’ll admit also left me feeling somewhat underwhelmed coming off the back of their incredible breakout debut, If You Wait. As it turns out, the band themselves were also having a tough time around that period, with front woman Hannah Reid in particular battling relentless industry sexism, as well as the persistent physical pain caused by her fibromyalgia condition. With this being the case, it is amazing that the young indie-pop trio have made it to their third album at all, let alone delivering what is their best work to date.

Opening on a grand, string-drenched Intro, the record soon morphs into the sun-soaked guitars and soaring orchestration of the album’s glorious title track. It marks an early highlight as Reid catches the audience up with the tribulations of the last few years – “I left my soul on Californian soil.” From there the album doesn’t really let up as the band move through a series of career-defining tracks – the gorgeous contemporary groove of Missing, the dance-influenced How Does It Feel, the chilled-out ambience of the dreamy Baby, It’s You and the sublime, stripped-back closer America.

However, the album’s strongest moment comes when Reid confronts music industry sexism head on with defiant anthem Lord It’s A Feeling. Beginning with some twinkly xylophone, before evolving into an atmospheric synth-laced backdrop where Reid pulls no punches:

“I saw the way you made her feel, like she should be somebody else,

I know you think the stars align for you and not for her as well,

I undеrstand, I can admit that I have felt those things mysеlf”

The cutting lyrics against some blinding quiet rave instrumentation leaves quite the impression, as does this sterling record in general. After a slight misstep, London Grammar have well and truly rediscovered themselves and they have honestly never sounded better – a truly incredible album.

If You Could Have It All Again by Low Island

Oxford electo-pop outfit Low Island are another band that have defied expectations to get to this point. This, their debut album, was not recorded in a professional music studio – in fact, the vocals were recorded in a bedroom cupboard of all places. The band themselves don’t even have a manager or a record label. In every sense of the word, they are a truly independent band. For a self-financed, self-produced effort, If You Could Have It All Again is a quite remarkable first outing.

From melodic, uplifting opener Hey Man, the record quickly jumps into spoken word electro punk banger What Do You Stand For, featuring acid-drenched synths and a dancefloor-ready groove. Fans of FIFA 21 will recall Don’t Let the Light In, with the glitchy pulse of recent single Who’s Having the Greatest Time also standing out. That said, it’s the smooth, infectious sway of I Do It For You that still pulls me in the most.

Having followed the band since their early EPs, I’ve been rooting for Low Island for a while now and this is one debut album I was highly anticipating this year. Safe to say, my expectations have been met – this is a fantastic, accomplished record, which leaves me eager to see where they go next.

The Greatest Mistake Of My Life by Holding Absence

There was a time when the difficult second album used to be a thing, but listening to the sophomore effort from Welsh rock band Holding Absence this week, I’m really not sure that exists anymore. After a dramatic and impressive self-titled debut two years ago, the band have wasted little time taking things up a notch, with this new album cinematic and masterfully produced from beginning to end.

From standout singalong anthems like Afterlife and In Circles, to the album’s epic seven-minute penultimate track Mourning Song, The Greatest Mistake of My Life shows a band pushing themselves and driving forward with ambition at every opportunity. In a year packed with outstanding rock and metal albums already, this is most definitely another one you can add onto that list. Soaring, impressive and demanding of repeat listens.

We Forgot We Were Dreaming by Saint Raymond

It’s been six long years since Nottingham-born singer-songwriter Callum Burrows, AKA Saint Raymond, released his debut album. However it seems the time away has been well spent as this long-awaited follow-up finds Burrows in fine form, with this album packed to the brim with catchy, glossily produced indie-pop anthems.

From the brilliant title track that opens the record, to the bouncy riffs of Right Way Round, Talk and Solid Gold, to more subdued and heartfelt moments like Only You, this album will have you smiling, singing your heart out and dancing your troubles away.

Flu Game by AJ Tracey

AJ Tracey may have only been three years old when Michael Jordan was winning NBA championships with the Chicago Bulls, but that hasn’t stopped him making a record influenced by the legendary icon and his famous 1997 Flu Game. Like many others including myself, grime superstar AJ Tracey spent lockdown watching the brilliant The Last Dance documentary, and this record weirdly works as a fantastic unofficial companion, but also just a great summer rap record.

McCartney III Imagined by Paul McCartney

Even if like me you completely missed Sir Paul McCartney’s 2020 album McCartney III, it’s well worth checking out this reimagining, where he has called on the help of some of his famous musician pals. This is a real who’s who line up of guest features including Beck, Khurangbin, St. Vincent, Blood Orange, Phoebe Bridgers, Damon Albarn, Josh Homme, Anderson .Paak and more, making for quite a fascinating mix of sounds and styles.

Moratorium (Broadcasts from The Interruption) by Enter Shikari

And finally on the albums front this week, genre-benders Enter Shikari have released a brilliant compilation of all their lockdown live performances, headlined by an incredible string-tinged acoustic version of The Dreamer’s Hotel and a beautifully stripped-back “At Home” rendition of Live Outside.

Tracks of the Week

Introvert by Little Simz

Wow, wow and wow again. Still fairly fresh off the back of her masterful, Mercury Prize nominated third album Grey Area, this week British rapper Little Simz released the first taste of her next record in the form of this epic and triumphant opening track. At six minutes in length, this majestic and operatic political anthem aims to grab the listener by the collar and shake them awake. Without a doubt, one of the best songs of the year so far, the powerful video for which you can view above.

Smile by Wolf Alice

The second taste of their forthcoming album Blue Weekend, Smile continues Wolf Alice’s pattern for alternating Loud/Soft releases, with this one featuring buzzy guitars, punky vocals and a hypnotic chorus melody.

Beautiful Beaches by James

Although written off the back of the California wildfires that impacted front man Tim Booth’s local community, the lyrics on the band’s latest anthem purposefully offer a dual meaning, giving hope to those dreaming of a post-lockdown getaway and fresh start.

He Said She Said by CHVRCHES

The Scottish trio made their much-anticipated return this week, with Lauren Mayberry also sharing her experiences of sexism on this arena-ready synth-pop banger.

Matty Healy by Georgia Twinn

Georgia Twinn delivers an infectiously catchy break-up anthem, inspired by an ex-boyfriend, who’s most interesting feature was supposedly looking like the 1975 frontman.

Kill It by Vukovi

Underground Scottish rock outfit Vukovi’s new single is so good, they even managed to get KILL IT trending over the weekend of its release. Masterfully produced with big bold riffs and trancey synths, this one just sounds huge.

Can’t Carry On by Gruff Rhys

The latest solo single from the former Super Furry Animals frontman is a stunning, super-melodic tune with an instant chorus you’ll be singing before the track has even finished its first play.

Ceremony by Deftones

One of the highlights off their last album Ohms, the nu-metal rockers have now delivered a cinematic new video directed by horror legend Leigh Whannell. Check it out!

Chasing Birds by Foo Fighters

And finally this week, Dave Grohl and company released a trippy new animated video for this Medicine At Midnight cut to help celebrate 420 in their own unique way. Again, well worth a watch!

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skyphile · 3 years

Text

grahams big holiday gift post aka “ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE IVE DONE THIS pwease go easy on me”

so while graham and the beautiful wife spent most of the holiday season living in luxury and getting pampered at grahams dad’s, graham had plenty of time to amass a collection of gifts and baked goods to give his friends upon their return home!

heres the list of them

@morbidkind kes - a lot of fluffy scarves and knitted things to keep them warm at work, pretty glass and clockwork trinkets and jewelry shaped like bugs and eyes, horribly misshapen bug decorated sugar cookies

@velcrounit colin - a whole family of crochet mushrooms AND a needlefelt figure of stan from spiritfarer bc im sure the household played it and sobbed over it. graham would also love to try his hand at a bunch of greek desserts and use colin as his guinea pig dfkhdsf. horrible plant decorated sugar cookies

dad - a hat, oven mitt and scarf set, a few short music compositions that are heartfelt and sweet. aardvark decorated sugar cookies that do NOT look like them at all

mom - also a music composition, along with a ton of cosy planters, knitted stuff to hold her art supplies, and a warm scarf to share between her and her gf. sugar cookies that completely bastardize a landscape

neighbours - cookies for everyone!

baradisers - aside from a sexy holiday bonus, they are probably going to hold a feast next saturday that anyone can attend around a HUGE table

cat - a whole collection of small indie games. horrible looking sugar cookies in a sad attempt of drawing ornstein and smough

@nemorialex alex - tiny needle felt figurines of snow and ash, a whole bunch of knitted things with needlefelt details on them, and also a TON of knitted stuff for the baby… sugar cookies with abominable decorations that vaguely resemble dragons

@stakehammer johnlal - needlefelt figurines of moths, a stupidly large tentacle, and sugar cookies with poorly done cute black kitties on them

@agreste-image adrien - a short musical composition that evokes feelings of motivation, support and hope, a bunch of silly knitted things with black cat motifs, a needle felt plagg for plagg, a platter of nice stinky cheese for plagg, a whole tray of assorted passion fruit pastries, sugar cookies with disastrous black kitties

@gho2ty ghosty - a whole music composition done in 8bit that evokes tenderness, softness and determination, a bunch of needlefelt alternian bees, a set of entrelac knitted sweaters, scarf and gloves, sugar cookies with a shameful attempt of a minecraft bee drawn on them

@vulcaniq jim - a cover collection of striking star trek tracks, graham would also legit get a tamagochu pair to split with her (as an excuse to hang out more and bc theyre so silly and cute), and make a few floral/fruit crocheted hats. jims sugar cookies were supposed to look like spock but the ears did NOT turn out well and so did nothing else

@thatsillyjohnkid jay - he gathered as much appropriate wool as he could and needlefelt the biggest alolan exeggutor he could manage... his sugar cookies were similar and TERRIBLE

@liliumsunshine hinata - graham goofed around and tried to emulate a heavy metal style in his silly piano set up and covered somebody that i used to know for her in an attempt to mock the band u know. he used up a bunch of his purple and light lilac yarn to make her pretty winter set of warm accessories, and needlefelt soft creatures. he tried to make sugar cookies with horns but they all cracked and fell off

@trainstoppin furry john - he got the fluffiest yarn he could find and turned it into a hat with earflaps, a thick scarf and chunky mittens. he made him a needlefelted creeper. his sugar cookies were supposed to look like the moon but. the icing sort of meshed and oozed everywhere….

@daviscatessen davis - he needlefelted a bunch of flowery figurines for him, and turned the mamma mia soundtrack into an 8bit cover collection. his knitted hat has a flower crown needlefelted into it. his sugar cookies were made with flower cookie cutters but they got too Thick

@gardencracks aria - a whole series of plant, leaf, flower and fruits crocheted into a long garland. a big tray of parisian pastries. her sugar cookies are covered in ivy that looks like Big Blobs

@turntechgarchomp pokemon dave - a needlefelt pokemon team with blaziken, pikachu, togepi, riolu, gibble, dragapult. pikachu shaped sugar cookies, but the red icing from the cheeks bled EVERYWHERE...

@immarcescible feferi (I KNEW ID FORGOTTEN SOMEONE OFF MY OG LIST) - needlefelt octopi! a crochet sushi set! sugar cookies shaped like fish (the colours are A MESS)

@endoosteologist coco - a small collection of sanrio needlefelt figurines. a BIG cake but the decorations could be…. better. hello kitty sugar cookies from hell….

@emberoops ember - a small set of cute needlefelt firebirds. sugar cookies with melted off fire coloured icing

@thedoomtrout max - I WISH IT WAS REAL but imagine this loser giving u a bunch of needle felt furries, including ur fursona, and bowser shaped sugar cookies that got all messed up…

graham is a HORRIBLE dessert decorator but all food items would be fricking delicious and decadent… he wouldve also written cute little notes with everyone, appreciation for friendship, general good wishes and a dad joke

#ooc #holiday gifts #ooc save #long post #here we GO

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