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#i've had a lot of jobs and this is the third longest i've ever stayed somewhere
doe-eyed-fool · 6 days
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Fear Of The Known
Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader
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Summery: The future was a scary and unknown thing. Not even God could predict what might happen down the line. And so, when faced with the unknown, he would create someone who could look into the future and what it has to offer.
However, with the knowledge what would be, comes with a heavy burden. Fate was unkind to most and not every future would be bright.
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Warning(s): Angst, Violence, Major Character Death, OOC, AU(maybe?), Use Of Y/n, Slow burn, Friends To Lovers
(Pretty much gonna assume the personalities of characters we've yet to see in Hazbin. I'm also basing a lot of the angel/heaven characters off of what I've seen from apieceofheaven and voidseeker's au/characters. Though my interpretation will be very loose and some somewhat personal hcs since there is no longer a solid platform to read that info from. (other than the reposts I can find from Pinterest and Google)
One more thing, there might be some changes made to certain characters. Also, I'm not religious, so I might get some things wrong. I apologize in advance.)
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Y/n was a young woman, destined to work close with the higher ups of Heaven, due to the gift she was given. God chose her to be the angel who would prophesy the future.
The symbol of a bright shining star on her forehead acted as a third eye. It would be what aids her as she looks into the future. And for the longest time, the future seemed bright.
Although, the future was not just one straight line. There were many pathways that could be opened by the smallest of acts.
But from how well everything was managed in Heaven, the best future possible, seemed as if the only real future ahead.
No worries, no danger, nothing to disrupt the heavenly balance. Yes, it was all smooth sailing ahead.
Y/n loved her job, and found great joy in telling others of the wonderful future that lies ahead for everyone. However, there would come a day, where the future was changed for the worst.
And it all started with one man...
Lucifer was one of God's favorite angels. He was bright, creative, brilliant. Though, he was a bit of a trouble maker, and would often drag his brothers into joining his mischievous acts.
Well, perhaps mischief wasn't the best way to describe it. Curiosity, was a better way of putting it. But even then, that curiosity would lead him to trouble.
It was a good thing God was so forgiving of Lucifer.
Even Y/n couldn't stay mad at him whenever he got her involved, asking her to use her future vision to see how his actions would effect something or someone.
And every time she'd say-
"My power is not to be abused, Lucifer."
As disappointed as he always was whenever she refused to indulge him, he'd never force her to do something she didn't want to. But boy, was he persistent.
Eventually, his curiosity rubbed off on Y/n. And she took a small peak into Lucifer's future. As she suspected, Lucifer would live happily and sharing his creativity with all of Heaven to enjoy.
Yes. Another wonderful future for all.
But then, another path was opened to her eyes. What she saw, concerned her.
Heaven was in chaos, and Lucifer was at the center of it all.
Y/n didn't dare look any further than that. And she would not say a word about this to Lucifer either. She had a feeling it would have negatively affected him.
However, she couldn't keep this to herself. She needed to tell God about the future she saw. It was the first time she had ever seen Heaven so...frazzled.
As if something terrible were about to happen.
The suspense of not knowing ate at her. If she were to tell God of such a future, she would need to know exactly why and how it would happen. And so, she looked again.
There Lucifer was again. He looked so angry, but so sad at the same time. And there was someone else with him. A tall and beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Lucifer held an arm out protectively in front of her as he yelled something.
He looked injured. Blood stained his beautiful face, as well as his robes. Even his wings were damaged.
Ahead of Lucifer was Michael. Sword in hand, the blade pointing towards Lucifer. He looked a bit roughed up as well. Had they been fighting? Why would they ever fight?
Chains were thrown around Lucifer and the woman he was with, and then, there was a vision of Lucifer and that same woman inside of Heaven's courtroom. Words were being yelled back and forth from Lucifer and the head Seraphim, Sera.
But Joel would have the final word.
There was a look of panic on Lucifer's face. The chains that bind him disappeared and the ground beneath them gave in. With quick thinking, Lucifer held onto that woman tightly, shielding her with his wings.
And just like that, the both fell.
Y/n gasped sharply as the vision faded.
"Lucifer...Lucifer falls from Heaven."
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Ok! New series! First chapter is gonna be published tomorrow!
And chapter two is already being worked on lol
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blazehedgehog · 1 year
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Roughly how many hours do you spend working on your major videos? Have you ever tried to figure out what sort of hourly wages you earn when you divide your YouTube and Patreon revenue by time spent working on content? I get the feeling that it's becoming increasingly difficult to make videos for a living, but I don't have any hard numbers to support that suspicion because creators tend to keep that info close to their chest (for good reason)
It's not really something I can easily measure. This isn't like I'm traveling to an office, clock in, focus on work for four hours, take a 30 minute break, work for four more hours, and then go home.
I try to do that, certainly, but there are also a lot of days where I get distracted for hours at a time with something on twitter, or discord, or whatever. Depending on the job, that could happen at real work, too, but not as much.
Like, when I worked at the thrift store back in Colorado, they actually patted me on the back for being one of the few people they had who took it seriously. Sure, I often took long lunches (45+ minutes) but they didn't seem to care and they were very happy with my work ethic outside of that.
Being your own boss is very difficult and unfortunately I am in a place where my work space is the same space where I do everything else -- I eat here, I sleep here, I relax here, and it can be hard to shift gears between different modes.
So I can't accurately tally up how much work I do in a given day because some days I work for what feels like 14 hours and some days it feels like I only work for a few minutes. Most of that depends on the stage of production -- script writing seems to be the slowest grind these days. Capturing footage goes the fastest. Cutting the final product together is where the longest, most intense hours come in.
I do, however, routinely think about "hourly wages" when it comes to Twitch, because they print "here's how long you streamed vs. how much you earned" in pretty black and white terms. Hopefully I don't sabotage anything by saying this (I know Youtube Networks don't like you sharing earnings analytics), but the two Twitch streams I did for Halloween, I streamed just under 6 hours and made about $9. That's, like, what, $1.50 an hour? Not great.
(But it was also totally impromptu, super low key, and in the middle of the night. More "for fun." I didn't even break 10 viewers for most of it.)
I will say, though, bare minimum, this has been one of the more profitable years for me on Youtube. But I need to do better.
Which natureally leads me to wonder what the purpose of this ask is.
As my Patreon has grown over the last couple months, and I've declared I'm finally making enough from it to cover my food groceries, I've had people ask how that's possible because I'd need more money for rent and things like that. Which is true! I cannot cover rent yet. I pay what I can when I can to my brother for the room I am staying in currently and I keep my fingers crossed that the hammer doesn't drop.
I have sat around and had a lot of panic attacks whether or not I can make this work. Doubts and questioning whether I can get things up high enough fast enough to make a dent in... I dunno, life, I guess. I don't need people drilling me about it, because I'm already drilling myself every second of every day.
For now, as long as the number keeps going up instead of down, I am going to close my eyes and pray for the best.
(Further reading beyond this point becomes very serious and heavy.)
To some extent, this is what my Mom wanted. When she went in to the hospital last year and her leg mysteriously broke, she came here to live at my brother's. Same room I'm in now. And I had this sense that even if she recovered, she may never drive again, she may never walk again, so by the end of that second or third week we sat down and had a loooong talk, because it was clear that no matter what else happened, there was about to be a shift in the dynamic.
So we cleared the air. There was a lot of crying. Up to that point, she had still acted like The Mom. She did the cooking, she did (some of) the cleaning, she managed all the finances, she was the head of the household. I'd offer to cook dinner and she'd either refuse, or only let me cook for myself only. Like, there would be times where she'd be full on asleep on the couch or whatever, and if she heard me trying to cook, she'd get up and try to shoo me out of the kitchen so she could fix dinner for us.
But after her leg broke, she was traumatized. She'd been suffering from very bad sciatica (back pain) for a long time, and every time she'd go to the hospital, they would brush her off and push her out the door. The circumstances in which her leg broke were horrible. She told us time and time again she begged them to go easy on her because her leg hurt before it broke, likely due to weak bones. After it broke, they refused to believe her. I think she said they left her laying in bed in the worst pain of her life for hours because they didn't think her femur actually broke. I actually saw her during this time and she was writhing in her hospital bed, barely coherent. It was awful.
That hurt her mentally as much as physically. My strong, independent, "I'll do it MYSELF" mother was suddenly frail and timid and prone to crying over something as small as me forgetting to make her a cup of coffee.
So even though it was a months and months and months before we knew she was actually just dying of cancer, I knew we had to sort things out and shift the balance of power. Even if she made a recovery, nothing would ever be the same again.
And when I brought up the prospect of taking Youtube more seriously, she was all for it. She said that "I always told everybody you were going to be famous some day."
My impostor syndrome never really rationalized that. In that moment, and especially now in retrospect, I believed her, but prior to that moment, all the praise she had given me over the years smashed in to a brick wall and ceased to exist. But it was her, when I'd have my one video a year take off, tell me about the "serious money" I could be making if I applied myself (which I never did, because she was my safety net and my comfort zone.)
And then I think about all the times she tried to tell me how smart I was, and about how, when I was 14 years old, there was some manager from IBM that "wanted to talk to me" because I had made a game in Clickteam Fusion over a weekend to sell at a craft fair she was attending.
Or how she'd push me to give out business cards to people who would compliment me on my Redbubble shirt designs when I'd wear them out in public. She always wanted me to hustle and I never had the drive or the energy for that.
I am trying to summon the energy up for that now. And it's hard, but at least I'm trying. Am I trying hard enough? Shit, I don't know. Maybe ask all the sleep I've lost in the last three months. I used to be the kind of guy who would zonk out and fall asleep within two minutes of my head touching the pillow, but now I routinely lay in bed for close to an hour, wondering and worrying if I can make this work.
As long as the number keeps going up instead of down, I am going to close my eyes and pray for the best.
I would like to end this saying that I'm pretty sure you aren't actually drilling me or anything like that. Honestly, no need to apologize. I always expect the worst from these asks and nobody is ever really that mean, outside of like... what probably amounts to one guy.
You're fine. And hopefully I'll be fine.
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slippery-minghus · 3 years
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between having hardly any spoons and being paranoid that i'm broke after nearly overdrawing my account a few weeks ago for the first time in years, i havent really been eating right (or enough) and ugh i'm just so tired of it. i've been living off of pb&js and whatever i can scrape together for dinner. im so tired
#im feeling really crappy today and it's ramping up The Sad#my eczema is flaring again bc the doc said to take a 1wk break from the steroid cream every 2wks#and god it hasnt been this bad in months#i'm hoping it's just bc i had some dairy last week so i'm gonna try to not have any this week and see if it clears up at all#and i'm trying really hard not to spend any money but i also havent cooked for myself in weeks#i know i'm just in a downswing and it's temprary but it doesnt make the thought of having a real sandwich make me want to cry any less#but this is what it's gonna be like when i finally get my act together and get my own car insurance#more than half of my monthly income goes to rent and another big chunk to therapy#at least my credit card is paid off but fuck i wouldnt be able to afford even pb&j if i still had that bill to pay#my job does not pay me nearly enough for how much work i do#i've been there almost 6mo now (damn) and it's starting to get a little stale#i've had a lot of jobs and this is the third longest i've ever stayed somewhere#second being the 8 or so months at the donut shop when i first moved here (which i only left bc pandemic)#and the longest being the 13mo of hell at the group home#i dont usually stay anywhere for more than a few months#but i'm finally getting some skills other than brewing coffee so i've gotta stick it out#and i do like my job. it's just... too much sometimes#idunno#im tired and sad and it still gets dark too early and i just havent been eating enough#i think i could use a nap but it's already 4 and idk i nap maybe once or twice a year and it's never worth it#personal
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delaber · 3 years
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Three-Point Perspective (Part 2)
Rafael Casal x Reader x Daveed Diggs
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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)
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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 :-) 
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allexiaah · 2 years
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For the cottagecore ask: 🥧 🍄🥐 and 🍀 !
🥧 - What's one thing you genuinely, truly love?
Man, there's so many. Idek. I could say my hyperfixations, and a whole bunch of things that you'd typically expect, because they're all true. But I'm going to say my friends anyways, because honestly without em? I don't think I'd have made it through last year. I love them with my whole little heart.
I know it said one lol. But for a less cheesy thing, probably sitting inside with calm music and a warm blanket watching the rain with the lights off, only the light from the window illuminating the room. It's like a different world. That or reading while it rains, the same cloudy light coming through the window with the sound of the raindrops hitting the roof. I have good memories of the stuff I've read during times like that.
🍄 - What's the kindest thing anyone's ever said to you? Has it influenced you in any way?
There's so many. And they all influence me, I think about them every day and how much it means to me. I get one compliment and I pin it to the little fridge in my heart. Some good contenders are:
- Stay rootin' and tootin', lil gaymer
- Very good vibes and always ready to spill blood (about me not to me but still. I'm touched)
- I was once told that my interpretation of Claudette is canon in their heart in the tags of a reblog (your Claudette = canon) and I just melted.
- Any nice comment I've had about my art. A friend told me once that my art's like a warm hug, and recently another said it was like hot chocolate, and once a third in the tags said they were proud of how far I'd come with my art, and that I did a fantastic job and honestly it all made me want to cry.
My memory is too horrible to remember all of the nice things people have said to me, and I've never been able to pick a "nicest," but these are all strong contenders. The art comments in particular are a huge motivation and inspiration to keep drawing, and I look back on em often when I'm feeling down ab my art. I don't remember specifics, but one friend of mine has told me a few times just how proud of me he is and every time it makes me want to keep trying to be the best person I can, and to be someone he can love and respect and approve of. And I'll always strive for that. For him, and for the others who've said the same things to me. If the people I care about so dearly can believe I'm someone to be proud of, I want to keep that. Not only keep it close to me and remember it, but to keep that by being the best person I can. By being me. It's a huge help for me, because I've always had huge self esteem issues and for the longest time didn't have a clue how people could tolerate me. I'm just glad I can be me, and do my best, and have people who love me that I love too. I dunno. It goes a long way, and even if I never remember the words exactly, every little compliment or encouragement is so sweet to me and means the world. I hold the nice things like that so close to my heart.
🥐 - What color do you think most represents you?
Man.. if I had to pick ONE color? I'd have to say maybe a pink, or a purple. Something bold and energetic but not angry, not anymore, and something that still feels kind, in a way. I don't know. Maybe a yellow-orange then?? One of the two. Favorite color doesn't quite mean it represents me the best, otherwise I'd say green, turquoise or blue.
🍀 - What's one thing you wish people knew about you?
Man. There's a lot I could put here... Most of what I'm coming up with are things that I'd say to a specific handful of people if they could see it rather than just.. something I wish people as a whole knew about me.
Probably that I'm trying my best to grow and be as good of a person as I can be, and I think about what I say, and do, but I know I'm not perfect, and even when I do think about what I'm trying to say, I still make mistakes, or say/do things wrong. But I'm trying. And I learn. I just need a little patience where it can be lent, or something to go by. I say things I don't mean because words are hard, so forgive me if I mess something up. Don't be afraid to tell me if I'm making a fool or an asshole of myself ^^'' That's really all that's coming to me.
Sorry for the real wordy answers lol, I couldn't simplify them as much as I wanted to, because I feel like it's all kind of important. Idk. But ty for the ask Nekrosmos!! Means a lot that you felt like sending these in <3 it was good to do a little bit of introspection.
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fuck-customers · 5 years
Text
cheap shoe store girl again. the assistant manager just came back after her two week leave of absence she took for her "mental health" during the freaking christmas rush (december 22-january 7).
it's been a long two weeks for me. i've been forced to cover most of the shifts and act as a manager which i have particularly been trained for. instead of having someone to ask for help from, i was the one figuring out scheduling conflicts with associates and making sure the store ran smoothly and telling the guy who was assigned our fill in store manager after january 1 what we need ordered (like paper towels and stuff). and like, despite how exhausted i was—to the point i was laying on the ground behind the register on sunday night and i needed help getting up because i was too sore to move—i worked through it, reminding myself that my paycheck was going to be absolutely kicking it and i really needed the money.
then, i go into work yesterday, the first day the assistant manager is back. she immediately berates me for not flipping the shoes or making my associate flip them (i had K, my associate, flip one aisle before i told her she could stop because i wasn't about to make her do all the work as i laid on the freaking ground) and tells me she had to pick up so much trash (which is complete bullshit considering i vacuumed the entire store and K went around and made sure anything left was picked up and thrown away as well as i literally took out the trash). she even writes this stupid note for me
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i try explaining to her that 1) K and I were literally dead on our feet as we had been covering most of the shifts for two weeks straight 2) despite how bad our sales were it was super freaking busy and 3) we got fifty boxes of shipment last thursday and K and i were trying to process all of that by ourselves.
AM immediately tells me she doesn't care because she wasn't here and that i would be "flipping the store twice today" as a result. i stared at her and then proceeded to not flip the store. eventually i try to catch her up on the happenings of the store and she kind of just....... doesn't care.
she keeps saying that she hates this job and that she's actively looking for a new one and she's done here blah blah blah. i don't care tbh. if she leaves i'm probably going to be given her job which means a $3 pay raise which i definitely need. but then i try and tell her that our fill in store manager wants us to text him our request offs (which is what he told me when i wrote it down for him because i have to work my little brothers swim meet) and AM immediately tells me, "no offense, but i'm not listening to anything someone below me has to say anymore. if someone higher up wants to tell me something than they can tell me themselves but i don't feel comfortable with an associate telling me what to do."
that's great. i still have seniority over you as i've been here longer and i do most of your job for you anyway.
literally most of the time i work with her she's just sitting in the back room on her phone and making me run the store. i'm just so? frustrated? and i started nannying in the morning again today so by the time i needed to start getting ready for work (which is a couple of hours before my shift for me because i like having time to mess around) i was just filled with this massive sense of dread. i didn't want to go in, i'm exhausted, i haven't slept properly in s month, i'm having a lot of chronic back pain today, and i just don't want to have to put up with my AM today. so i talk to my best friend and i talk to my mom and they both tell me i should call off
the thing is i've never once called off my job in the seven months i've been working here. i'm typically the one to cover other people's shifts when they call off so i wasn't entirely sure what to do. i was going to ask the stores other key carrier if she could cover but i didn't have her phone number and i know her availability is extremely limited since she's back in college right now (and i took this semester off so i could save money for school) so instead i call the store. the AM asks why i'm calling off so i make some lie up about how my mom's sick and i have to pick my brother up from school and ferry him to and from swim practice, and she asks if i can come in after i get him from school. i say no because he has swim at 6pm.
instead of saying something along the lines of "okay have a good day" or whatever she IMMEDIATELY starts throwing a fit, telling me that i've worked here longer than her and i should KNOW that the policy is i need to cover my own shift when someone calls off (which is complete BS because that's managements job, not mine), and she asks if i called the other key carrier. i tell AM i don't have the girls number so i couldn't contact her and instead of saying "okay i'll ask her myself then" AM starts whining that now SHE has to stay until close and she's just being completely immature and rude about the entire situation.
first off she can't even ask me for a reason to call off, i'm legally not obligated to give one. second off this is the first time i've called off ever. third off WE HAVE OTHER EMPLOYEES? she's literally just victimizing herself so after she hung up i texted the district manager and the DM said she'd come in and cover my shift for me (thank god) and i'm glad that's settled and i feel a lot better not having to go to work, but the AM is really starting to piss me off. she's an adult like i am and SHE applied for her job. she needs to start acting like an adult and do her job properly instead of expecting me to do it for her
tldr; assistant manager can't handle her job responsibilities and takes it out on me just because i've worked there the longest
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