#I've been writing A LOT to their music and find it so easy to be creative listening to them

[thatfoxnamedfinley]

It's happened. I've discovered Rammstein.

I am utterly taken

I don't normally like this kind of music either

but its just so SO

So this may be all I blog about for a little bit

JUST A LITTLE BIT

This man (frontman Till Lindemann) has a fucking CHOKEHOLD on my lesbian soul like WTF

[megalony]

Birthday Wishes

I've been on a roll with writing recently and have quite a lot of fics done so I thought I would post a new, fluffy Evan Buckley one today.

I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Evan Buckley Masterlist

It's Bubba

Summary: Evan's birthday is drawing nearer, and so is (Y/n)'s due date. And as luck would have it, the two combine.

(Prequel to It's Bubba, but can be read alone)

Enjoy

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

Twisting to the right, (Y/n) leaned down to take one of the many boxes piled up just in front of the lift. She hoped no one would want to use the lift within the next hour, it would be easier for them to use the stairs at this point.

They had taken up most of the corridor with boxes, bags, two suitcases and a few little cabinets and tables.

(Y/n) turned on her heels and backtracked down the corridor towards Chimney's apartment. Maddie had taken a big step by agreeing to move in with Chimney and just like last year when (Y/n) and Evan helped her move into her own place- after two months of living with them. Now, they were helping her move again.

The couple didn't mind, they were happy Maddie was settled and that she trusted Chimney enough to move in with him after all she had been through with Doug.

She barely reached the apartment door before a pair of hands were suddenly stealing the box from her arms.

"Thank you."

A frown etched onto her face and she moved her empty hands down to plant on her hips. Her brows rose and she tilted her head to the side when she looked across at Maddie who spun round to take the box inside and find somewhere to put it.

(Y/n) huffed as she watched her sister in law walk inside. She could carry a box. She may be eight months pregnant, but (Y/n) was more than capable of carting the smaller boxes from the lift all the way here to the apartment. She had helped load up the lift downstairs with Maddie while Evan did the heavy lifting, bringing everything from the van inside the building.

With pursed lips, she spun on her heels and trudged back towards the lift. She scrutinised the boxes and went with one full of nicnacs and letters and certificates. Easy things. Light things that wouldn't be classed as 'too heavy'.

She passed Chimney in the corridor as he went out for the some of the last few boxes to bring in. A smile flitted across her lips when she walked inside and she could hear the music blaring out from the tv. (Y/n) had a feeling Evan was the one in control of the tv remote this afternoon.

Her eyes glanced around the apartment once she was inside, trying to see where was the best place to start stacking the last of Maddie's things when there already seemed to be very little space left in the apartment.

But just as (Y/n) walked over towards the living room, a gasp tumbled past her lips when the box was taken from her hands much the same as the last one had been.

"Give that to me."

She tilted her head back, staring up at her husband as he walked past her and set the box down on the sofa along with the large bag of books he had hooked on his elbow as if it weighed nothing.

"Why am I here if you won't let me carry anything?" (Y/n) tapped her foot against the floor while her arms folded over her chest.

She may as well have stayed at home if everyone was going to dictate what she could and couldn't carry. Evan barely let her get anything out the van downstairs and she had scarcely been allowed to get in the lift with everything and bring it up to this floor. (Y/n) was here to help, she didn't want to feel useless or like she couldn't do anything.

Her eyes followed Evan as he walked towards her with a smirk dancing across his lips and his hands reaching out for her. He held her hips and tugged her closer until her bump was pressing into his abdomen.

"You're already carrying precious cargo." He glided his thumb up and down the side of her stomach.

She had been having back ache for the last week or so, Evan didn't want her carrying anything too heavy and making herself feel any worse.

"You can always organise while we unpack everything." Maddie gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a squeeze as she walked past them both and placed a bag down on the sofa. Thank God everything was almost moved into the apartment now, or else they would run out of room.

With a huff and a smile she tried to hide, (Y/n) wormed around Evan and slowly sat down on the sofa in the small gap between the arm rest and the boxes piled onto it. If they were going to try and make her 'take it easy' then she may as well sit down for a while.

She smiled when Evan perched on the arm rest beside her and she cuddled up into his side and perched her chin on his thigh. It was soothing to feel his hand running up and down her back and she could feel his leg jittering every so lightly as he tapped his heel against the floor in a rhythmic pattern.

They both watched Maddie as she looked around the living room, both pleased that practically everything was finally here. But also overwhelmed at the effort it was going to take to unpack everything. She decided to perch down on the coffee table to face her family, they may as well all take a little break before busying themselves tidying this stuff up.

"So what are we doing for your birthday?" Maddie ran her hands up and down her thighs while she grinned knowingly at her little brother.

He was turning twenty-six next week and he had yet to say what he wanted to do and what their plans were. At least Maddie already had his present sorted. She had conferred with (Y/n) over a month ago so they both got some personalised gifts sorted for him.

"Eddie's organised to go to a few bars the day after my birthday, so that'll be fun."

Eddie already knew that Evan would want to be with (Y/n) on his actual birthday and when he asked (Y/n) if she would mind him stealing her husband the next day, she happily agreed. So Evan was going to be trolled around all the bars in town with the team.

"Can we do a party?"

"No." Evan's reply was instant and the way he rose a brow caused Maddie to frown deeply at him.

He didn't want a party. Evan couldn't remember the last time he had a good birthday party- well, he could, but that was because it had been the only proper party he had. When he was twenty one he had a party organised by his friends from college, it had been the first time in his life where his birthday was properly celebrated.

And not just with a loving present and a cake from Maddie because their parents were always too plagued by memories to celebrate Evan's birthday. He got used to not celebrating his birthday and just relishing in Maddie celebrating his day with him. It wasn't until he got together with (Y/n) that he really began going out for a meal or drinks and he felt happier celebrating the event that had never been special in his household growing up.

But he was going to make sure that things were different for his baby. Evan wasn't going to make his kids feel like they weren't loved or special or cherished on any day of their lives. And their birthdays were always going to be celebrated and made into a loving event. Evan wanted his kids to have a happy childhood, the opposite of what he had growing up.

"Why not?"

Evan glanced his eyes between his sister who looked genuinely dismayed, and his wife who looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Because twenty-six isn't a special number, Mads. Besides, I don't want one." Parties were all well and good if they were celebrating someone else, but Evan never knew what to do if he was in the spotlight.

"Well every birthday party after this year will have to be child friendly." (Y/n) muttered softly into his leg.

She had been very happy Eddie suggested taking Evan out the day after his birthday to go round all the bars. Because after this year, all their birthdays would be spent with their baby. So parties after this year would need to be refined and controlled because their baby would be with them.

"Just the way I want it." Leaning down, Evan pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head and weaved his arm around her waist so he was moulded around her.

"Okay, so if we're not doing a party, can we at least go out for a meal? Maybe just the four of us." Maddie still wanted to do something to celebrate Evan's birthday, they always did something. Whether it was going bowling, going out for drinks or a meal or just watching a movie together, they had to celebrate somehow.

"Five of us." Evan muttered quietly whilst moving his hand round to cradle (Y/n)'s stomach. But when Maddie rolled her eyes and nodded, he grinned. "Sure, that sounds good."

***

"Baby…" Evan's tone, although sugary sweet and melodic, was laced with sleep and had a gritty edge that gave away he had been soundly sleeping just a few minutes ago.

(Y/n) hummed, unsure who he was talking to considering he had his face meshed up into her side with one arm slung around her waist, cradling her bump. She often thought Evan was talking to her, only to find out he was having a different, endearing conversation with their baby.

He nudged his head back on the pillow and cracked an eye open to look up at (Y/n), considering he was laid down and she was sitting up. Propped up by a mountain of pillows in a vain attempt to make herself comfy.

"What're you eating?" Evan tried his best to open his eyes properly and look up at his wife.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but he judged from the dreary look in (Y/n)'s eyes and the tiredness written across her face that it was late. He had been at work today and he hadn't gotten a single chance to sit down, so the moment he climbed into bed, Evan had gone out like a light. He didn't know how long he had slept for, but he could just feel that it was late.

He didn't know what woke him or how long he had been dozing in and out of sleep, but he could suddenly hear (Y/n) eating something. It didn't bother him, once Evan was asleep he could sleep through a tornado. But he was curious to know what exactly she was munching away on that sounded so crunchy. To Evan, it sounded like she was crunching on broken glass.

(Y/n) paused, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as she glanced down to her right where Evan was looking up at her through tired, squinted eyes.

She could feel an apologetic smile pulling on her lips as she tilted the plastic bowl down so Evan could see what she had gotten as a snack. But when he couldn't seem to figure out what it was, (Y/n) popped one into her mouth and leaned down to kiss his temple.

She felt the way Evan sucked in a sharp breath and jerked against her when her cold lips touched his forehead and she pressed the cube of ice against his temple as if she wanted to give him brain freeze.

"Ice?" He murmured into her chest, confusion laced in his tone while he twisted to push himself up on his left elbow so he could be level with her.

"Want some?" She was only joking, she knew for a fact Evan wasn't going to dive into the bowl of crushed ice she had been eating for a while now. But (Y/n) loved the dazed look on his face and the quirky smile that pulled at his lips.

"Why are you crunching on ice, baby? There's ice cream in the freezer, and I'm pretty sure there's doritos in the cupboard." Evan took another glance in the bowl she had resting comfortably on top of her bump before he leaned up and captured her lips in a kiss.

Out of all the things she could eat, Evan found it bizarre to find her eating ice. It didn't exactly have any flavour like an ice pop, and Evan had gone to the shops yesterday for a few bits. He specifically remembered picking up ice cream, and he knew (Y/n) had been fixated on doritos for the last week or two so he stocked up on those too. There were much better things to be eating in the house than just plain ice.

"Ask your child. They are craving ice cubes, not ice cream." (Y/n) popped another cube into her mouth while she dropped her head back into the mountain of pillows.

She had seen the ice cream in the freezer, but it didn't take her fancy. For some unknown reason, she was craving ice. The sensation made her ears pop with every crunch and her mouth had gone numb from the temperature, but she was fixated and just kept crunching away on the cubes.

At least it kept her hydrated.

"My baby's crazy." Evan mumbled with a cheeky grin and he leaned over to press a kiss to (Y/n)'s stomach before he hooked his arm back over her waist. But just as he went to lay down, his eyes caught sight of the clock on the side table. "It's late, baby, aren't you tired?"

He didn't want to say she looked tired, he dared not say that, it wouldn't be the kindest thing to say to his pregnant wife. But she did look exhausted and it was past midnight.

"My back kills, and the baby won't settle so I can't sleep."

She wanted to. (Y/n) was desperate to lie down and go to sleep, but her back was twinging every few seconds and it didn't get any better when she tried to lie down. Then when she had laid down earlier, the baby kicked up a storm and started wriggling around, making it impossible for (Y/n) to manage any sleep. She thought she may as well stay up and try to watch a tv show if the baby was going to insist on keeping her up.

"Lie down sweetheart, I'll tell them to sleep." Evan waited for (Y/n) to turn the tv off and try to shuffle around to get comfy before he dared to close his eyes. He let her wriggle back into him and he draped his arm back around her waist, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

He could feel her knees pulling up against her bump and she shimmied around a few times, clearly trying to lay in a position that didn't make her back twinge or disturb the baby. He attached his lips to her neck while his hand slipped beneath her top and his fingers danced across her lower abdomen, drawing aimless patterns and nonsense words to try and calm both her and the baby.

(Y/n) was sure she felt Evan whisper "It's time for bed," while his hand roamed her bump and she shuffled back into him. Snuggling into his chest that was like a radiator giving off waves of heat.

Hopefully the baby would listen to him.

"Hey baby, Mads wants to know where we wanna go for dinner, what'd you think?" Evan ran the towel over the back of his head to dry off his hair which was already turning crimped, he could feel it.

His bare feet thumped against the stairs with enough force to make echoes vibrate around the house. If he were feeling more alive and awake he would have walked with a bit more spring in his step and less sluggish movements, but he was tired. He shouldn't have picked up the extra shifts this week, but whenever Bobby asked him, Evan didn't have the heart to say no.

That shift yesterday had drained all his energy, and when (Y/n) couldn't sleep, Evan tried to stay awake with her. He didn't like the thought of going to sleep and leaving her awake in discomfort on her own.

Once he was downstairs, Evan headed into the living room and made a beeline for the sofa where he could see (Y/n).

"Where do you fancy going?" He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and moved to plonk down next to her.

His birthday was three days away, but Maddie wanted to get a table booked in advance for wherever Evan and (Y/n) decided they wanted to go for dinner. They had said that Evan and (Y/n) would go and do something together in the morning, and then all of them would eat together late on in the afternoon. And then Evan would be roaming round the bars with Eddie and the rest of the team the next day.

Evan was glad Bobby had given him five days off in a row to have his birthday with (Y/n) and then some time to recover the drinking escapade they would be going on.

When Evan leaned his head back on the sofa and looked to his right, he felt a wave of dread washing over him.

(Y/n) had one of the cushions pinned into her chest with one arm strapped over it like a barrier while her other hand was pressed against her mouth so she could bite down on her nails. But it was the tears beginning to trace down her cheeks which made Evan's heart sky rocket in his chest.

He sat up straight and leaned over towards her, moving his hand to gently rest on her thigh while his other hand moved towards her face. He carefully swiped his thumb over her cheek to dry away the tears and he turned her head so she was looking at him.

"Hey, hey what's the matter sweetheart?" He continued to trace his thumb over her cheek while he gauged her face to try and see what was wrong. "Did we run out of ice?" He tried to joke when (Y/n) didn't answer, but she wasn't in floods of tears which made him think that this wasn't a horrible or dire situation, thank God.

(Y/n) sniffed, trying her best to stop the tears but she couldn't seem to help it and more trickled down her face like a leaky tap.

She pinned the cushion tighter to her chest while she inched to the left and leaned over until she could pull out of Evan's grasp and lean her head on his shoulder instead. She nuzzled her nose into his neck while she felt his arm weave around the back of her shoulders to keep her tucked safely into his side.

"What's up?" He murmured softly into her hair while he glided his hand up and down her arm.

He waited patiently, but his brows lifted in surprise when (Y/n) let go of the cushion and instead grabbed his free hand that was still curled around her thigh. She pulled on his hand until she could press his palm rather forcefully into the underside of her abdomen. He could feel the way she was twitching and shifting in her seat every few seconds, but he couldn't exactly feel the baby kicking.

"Evan, it- oow, it hurts." (Y/n) felt the way he tensed up when her words registered in his ears. "I think it might be contractions."

She wasn't sure, but (Y/n) was rather positive that this was the beginning of labour. Heck, last night's discomfort and unease might have been the actual start, and now the odd pains she was getting every now and then could possibly be contractions happening.

She was almost thirty-eight weeks along, so labour was possible at any time now, but this was so close to Evan's birthday. His birthday was in three days time, and now (Y/n) had gone and ruined all the plans they had made.

"I- I'm sorry," (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face more into his neck until she felt him leaning back to try and look down at her.

"Sweetheart, what are you sorry for?" The lighthearted tone in Evan's voice took (Y/n) by surprise and when she gingerly lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, she found a bewildered smile playing on his lips.

"You- your birthday, we had plans. I've spoiled them all."

When her lower lip started to wobble, a quiet sound passed Evan's lips and he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. He traced his thumb along her jawline while his other hand stayed lovingly on her stomach. The panic in her voice made his heart break, but the nervousness surrounding her made Evan fall in love with her all over again.

"Oh baby," He murmured quietly as he grinned against her mouth and kissed her again. "You really think I'd be unhappy about this? I'll get to spend my birthday with my baby, this is great."

The excitement in Evan's voice made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat and she found herself smiling through her tears.

She thought this would be a bad thing. They had plans, they were supposed to be going out for a family meal together with Maddie and Chimney. They had planned to go out and spend the morning together. Evan was meant to be going out for drinks with the team and having a break and some fun away from work and stress.

Having their baby now wasn't something (Y/n) had planned for and she didn't want to have them yet. She wanted to spend Evan's birthday and the days leading up to it trying to spoil him and show him how loved he was. She didn't want to take the attention away from his birthday by going into labour now.

His parents had taken the attention off of him all of his life, (Y/n) didn't want to do it to him now.

"If my birthday is me sitting in a hospital chair next to you, cradling our baby, then that's the best birthday I'll of ever had."

Evan would happily ring Maddie and explain that they might have to postpone their dinner to next week. He would gladly ring Eddie and say that a night out would have to wait a month or two and he would call Bobby and say he needed to have his three weeks off now for being home with his new baby.

If Evan ended up on his birthday, sat in a hospital room with his family, cradling the most precious life in his arms, then he would be the happiest person in the world. He couldn't think of a better way to spend his birthday than being with (Y/n) and their baby and showing off that he was now a dad.

"Really?" Her voice wavered but her smile looked radiant to Evan and he leaned his chest down into hers to steal a deeper kiss.

"Really. Now let me go find the hospital bag and ring Maddie to tell her the good news."

***

*Any news yet?? xx *Not yet, shouldn't be too much longer. xx

Evan slid his phone back onto the little table beside the bed before he shuffled closer on the edge of the chair so he could reach over for (Y/n)'s hand. He tangled their fingers together while his free hand slowly began to card through (Y/n)'s hair. He brushed her hair away from her face and ran his fingers through the back of her hair in rhythmic strokes.

The only person who knew (Y/n) was in labour was Maddie. Evan had rang her to let her know that (Y/n) had gone into labour and they would have to cancel his birthday dinner. But he thought it better to wait until after the birth to tell the team. He couldn't wait to ring and announce that his baby had finally arrived, the suspense and shock would make it better.

Maddie was a little eager to know whether she had a niece or nephew and had been texting every now and then to see how things were going.

Evan felt bad. (Y/n) had been in labour for two days but it felt like two weeks had passed. This last hour had finally given them some hope because the contractions were almost constant, giving them a bit of hope that they might finally have their baby now.

He brought (Y/n)'s hand up to his lips so he could kiss the back of her hand. His eyes raked up and down her frame, watching the way she winced and coiled her knees up tighter to her stomach. She was laid on her side with her right arm tucked beneath the pillow and her other, trembling hand in Evan's grip.

"Alright you two, shall we take another look?" Their midwife, Moira, peeked her head around the door and wore a tender smile.

She had been feeling very sympathetic for them both when, every time she came to check on them and see how dilated (Y/n) was, she had to tell them they weren't ready yet. At one point, (Y/n) had started crying.

(Y/n) croaked out a quiet "Oh God," when another contraction splintered through her muscles.

She gave a weak tug on Evan's hand and she tried in vain to smile when he helped her carefully twist onto her back rather than her side. She lifted her arm from beneath the pillow and slumped it over her eyes to block out the light while her other hand pulled Evan's hand to rest his arm across her chest.

"Okay, I think your wait is finally over. Let's have this baby."

Evan kissed the back of (Y/n)'s hand when a smile lit up her face and he could almost feel the relief radiating off of her in waves.

It felt strange to have a monitor on her stomach, but (Y/n) rather liked the soft sound of the baby's heartbeat lulling in the background. She could hear Moira milling about the room, presumably getting everything set up and ready while they waited for another contraction so they could begin the last part of the process.

"Can I stay lying down?" (Y/n)'s voice was quiet and Evan could feel his heart igniting at the tender look on her face as if she thought the midwife might conduct her to move and become uncomfortable.

"You lay however you like, whatever works for you."

When she tugged on Evan's hand, he took the hint and stood up so he could move to sit on the edge of the bed. He rested their entwined hands on his thigh while his other hand roamed along the side of her stomach and moved about like he had too much nervous energy.

Neither of them had gotten much sleep over the last few days, but they weren't tired. Evan had panicked about an hour ago when (Y/n) got a sudden burst of adrenaline that had her trembling like she was being shocked. But he calmed down a little when the nurses assured him it was normal.

Evan turned his head back to look at the midwife when (Y/n)’s hand tightened around his own signalling she was having another contraction. He cringed when (Y/n) started pushing and her groan rebounded through his ears and made a shiver run down his spine. And he could feel her shaking and trembling which rocked into him and had shivers coursing through his blood.

"Here we go," He murmured quietly, going back to carding his fingers through her hair because he could see the motion seemed to calm her down quite a lot. And he watched as she dropped her arm from over her eyes to scrunch around the bed sheet, giving herself something to cling to and ground herself with.

"Okay, head's born now, well done."

Something akin to a smile fluttered on (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Evan move as soon as the midwife spoke. He kept hold of her hand and his other hand moved to her shoulder but he leaned down to look at their baby.

Evan had delivered a few babies over the years of being a fireman and nothing really shocked him anymore. But this was different. That was his own little baby that was coming into the world and there wasn't a sight that would ever match that. Seeing any other woman give birth was never going to make Evan's heart clench or send his stomach rocketing like this.

His baby.

"That's it, push again (Y/n),"

"Almost there, sweetheart." Evan leaned over her to press his lips against her temple that was burning up as if he were trying to kiss flames.

Tears tracked down (Y/n)'s face and she felt like she was on fire when she heard the midwife say that the shoulders were born. Then the arms. Finally, it would be over soon. Their baby would be in their arms in no time. All the waiting and the hours of agony with no end in sight were behind them now.

(Y/n) felt like she was being electrocuted and as if her legs had been burned off at the thighs when she heard a sudden cry. Her body started to shake and she couldn't hear whatever Evan said even though she could feel his lips moving against her temple and his voice vibrated against her skin.

The feeling of Evan's fingers raking through her hair seemed to ground (Y/n) and gave her something to focus on when she finally heard Moira telling her it was all over. The baby was born. She had done it.

"Does dad want to cut the cord?"

(Y/n) patted Evan's arm and gave him a little nudge, nodding in reassurance that she would be fine if he let her go. She felt him press a sloppy kiss to her temple before he reeled up and shuffled down towards the end of the bed.

His fingers briefly skimmed across (Y/n)'s ankle and up the back of her leg before he took the medical scissors from the midwife and tried to stop himself from shaking. She held the cord up where she had clamped it off and Evan cut it just like he had done at least three times before when he was on shift. But this was so much more exciting, this was his little baby.

"You have little boy."

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s tear-stained face and her arms moved up to curl shakily around her baby when the newborn was placed down carefully over her chest. She brushed her finger across his head, feeling the tiny wisps of sandy hair that matched Evan's.

She could feel her cheeks hurting from how wide she was smiling and she barely managed to tear her eyes away from her baby boy to look up at Evan when he shuffled back up next to her. A quiet hum left her lips when she realised Evan had shed a few tears and his eyes had reddened.

He cradled the back of their son's head, brushing his thumb up and down his temple while he leaned down to peck (Y/n)'s forehead.

"Shall I spruce him up for you, then the proud dad can have a hold?"

(Y/n) nodded and let Moira carefully ease the newborn from her chest to get him cleaned up and swaddled in a blanket.

Her eyes lifted to look back at Evan when he cupped her cheek and leaned down to press a searing kiss to her lips that stole the little air she had left in her lungs. She could feel him smiling against her mouth, unable to stop himself and he traced his teeth along her lower lip before finally pulling up for air.

"He's perfect." Evan could already imagine the phone calls he would be making in a while to everyone. He would be proudly telling them all he had a beautiful little boy and he knew Maddie would be down here as soon as Evan called her.

"He is… can you help me up?" When Evan obliged and looped her arms around his neck, (Y/n) smothered her face into his shoulder and pressed a few, tender kisses to his exposed skin. She smiled into him when he helped her sit up before he pressed the button to tilt the bed up so she wasn't lying down anymore.

They stayed like that for a few moments, tangled together in a hug that was making (Y/n) tired now that all her energy had been used up. But Evan finally pulled back and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek when Moira came back over to them.

"And here's your little charmer, born at three-eighteen in the morning."

She eased James down into Evan's waiting arms and he almost jumped up from the bed when a jolt of excitement shot through him. This was his boy. This was his little baby, his first born. He had a son, and he was perfect with a tiny button nose and little pale lips that were curved into a heart-shaped pout.

"Oh, God."

"What?" Evan bounced his arms up and down, carefully rocking the newborn while he looked down at (Y/n).

She looked like a light bulb had just sparked above her head and for a moment he thought something was wrong. Until her lips melted into a smile that made his heart burst and had his brows raising in happy confusion.

"Happy birthday, baby."

Her hand cupped the side of Evan's face and she gently pulled him down to her so she could press a sweet kiss to his wet lips.

It was now morning. Neither of them had been taking a close look at the date or time and the last six or seven hours had gone by in a flash. The last time (Y/n) heard the time, it had been roughly nine at night. If it was now morning, that meant that their baby boy had technically been born on Evan's birthday.

He shared his birthday with his son.

When (Y/n) released him from a kiss, Evan made sure their boy was cradled in the crook of his left arm before he reached out for his phone on the side table.

Huh. It actually was his birthday. Time had become scrambled ever since they turned up at the hospital. Evan had been expecting their baby to be born the day before his birthday. Technically, he thought (Y/n) would of given birth two days before his birthday, he didn't think she would spend almost three days in labour like she had.

How immensely beautiful that labour had lasted long enough to allow Evan to share a birthday with his baby boy. It was as if the universe knew that Evan had never thought of his birthday as a special day and had now given him a purpose to celebrate the day like he should.

"Oh, don't tell me father and son now share a birthday? What perfect timing." Moira placed a gentle hand on Evan's shoulder and smiled at him sweetly while she looked down at the little boy in his arms. Clearly this didn't happen too often on her shifts.

"This is the best gift I've ever gotten." Evan murmured quietly and raised his arms up so he could delicately kiss his son's temple.

***

"Buck?"

"Hey Eddie," A quiet, breathless laugh followed Evan's words while he reclined back in his chair and stared down at the best birthday gift he had ever been given.

His eyes delicately cast over to (Y/n) who was laid on her side, head burrowed down into the pillow and her body curled up like she was a little fox in a burrow. She had finally managed to fall asleep and while she was resting, Evan had begun the phone calls. He had spent the last twenty minutes on the phone to his sister, telling her everything from how long it had taken to what colour hair his boy now had.

Now Evan was spending some precious moments with his boy, and he knew it was far too early in the morning to be ringing anyone but Maddie. She gave him permission to call at any time day or night to let her know the outcome and if everything was okay.

Evan knew he shouldn't be ringing Eddie at this time in the morning, but he was too happy to contain his excitement and he just wanted to ring round and tell everyone.

"Listen, I know it's now your birthday and all, so happy birthday. But did you seriously wake me at four in the morning for that?"

The gruff tone in Eddie's voice gave away that he wasn't happy about an early morning call. He could gather by Evan's voice that this wasn't a panicked situation or anything bad, which was good, but Eddie didn't like to be woken up early.

"You'll never guess the present (Y/n) just gave me."

[noxtivagus]

hdflkjasdklf i'm just thinking of certain characters n stories hehe

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[sunshine-jesse]

Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley or

The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping

EDIT:

Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:

Anyways, without further adieu...

I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.

But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.

The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'

That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.

This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.

There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.

Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-

-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.

(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)

It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.

Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?

Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.

EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!

…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.

Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.

It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?

Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:

(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)

Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger. And he was.

(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)

In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole. In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:

And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.

Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.

But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.

And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.

By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.

So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?

(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.

However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)

EDIT OVER

It shows me that their relationship is all about control.

Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.

Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.

He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-

(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)

-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).

SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?

No. I don't think so.

Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.

And that's the point, because so would she.

I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.

In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:

Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.

And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?

Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.

And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-

-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.

It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.

In life...

...or in death.

How romantic.

So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.

[girlfromthecrypt]

I haven't posted to this account very much (or at all, really), so I figured I'd update you guys on the state of Such Happy Campers and Press Play. I don’t want to talk about the incident that led to me putting SHC on ice because it still rather upsets me, but honestly, I think it was a good decision. I was grieving the “loss” of SHC for a while, but I can't help but believe I made the right call. Continuing on under the circumstances would have drained me and likely taken me right down the road to writer's block.

Furthermore, and in hindsight, I find writing Press Play a lot more fulfilling right now. All my life, I've only ever written horror, so Press Play has been a wonderful breath of fresh air. It feels cathartic writing about struggles I myself have experienced, and it’s so easy to write about music. I love music so much, and I didn't realize how fun it could be to combine this with my passion for writing. You might have been able to tell from the sheer difference in word count between Press Play and SHC, but it's been so much easier working on this somehow. Also, I do believe SHC wasn't all it could have been. I only want to put out my best work, and I don't think SHC was quite on par with Press Play.

But what about SHC, you may wonder. Or you may not, but I'll address it anyhow. I have recently had an idea for what I might turn the original SHC into. It's only a vague outline right now and I won't turn it into anything more until I'm done with Press Play (I have learned that I can't really write several IFs at once, I'm not C.C. Hill), but I figured I'd let you know that the SHC characters aren't gone forever. My idea would involve the entire SHC cast, though some names/appearances/personalities may undergo changes. Also, I might exclude Anita because she was, admittedly, my least favorite to write and might not fit in with the new setting. Other than that, the IF would explore an interesting alternative to the SHC narrative— for example, the character equivalent to Basil Laurier would actually be a practicing lawyer in this one. Another prominent change would be the inclusion of Sawyer Wright-Garcia as a full RO. They’re the only one I actually have a clear mental image for as to where their story would go, and it is… nuts.

Without spoiling too much, the plot and setting would be very different. It'd be horror, except it'd start out very unassuming, light-hearted and sitcom-y, only to then spiral. I feel like I'd enjoy causing that kind of whiplash. Anyhow, that's that. I hope that if you liked and perhaps miss SHC, this post helped at least a little bit.

[sjywrites]

༊*·˚ Prada & Versace

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

[ellieslittleburrow]

requested by : @skyhighwriter : Yeet what if Sam and Dean had a sibling who chose to leave to California with Sam for her music career. When Dean goes to get Sam he finds out she is playing a show soon. (Probably plays rock music similar to halestorm of the pretty reckless)

Warnings : Swearing, some family angst nothing big.

A/N : sorry you had to notify my dumbass for me to finally post it. i've been having this weird anxiety whenever i write something that pulls me miles back. Anyways, enough with the excuses-enjoy!

------

"Whoa, easy tiger."

Sam is pinned under his brother. Whom he just recognized-"Dean?" The oldest triumphantly sneers. 'You scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

A few moves, and Dean finds himself pinned beneath Sam's clutch.

"Or not-" The older brother breathes a laugh. "Get off me."

Sam gets up and pulls Dean with him. "Dean, what the hell are you doing here?"

...

As the conversation went on, Dean found himself out of words, yet still not ready to speak of the main subject. Finally, he locks eyes with Sam.

'Where is...where is she?" Dean's eyes discreetly search for you but little does he know..

"she.." A nervous cough escapes Sam's throat- unfortunately for him, Dean recognizes it. "She's not here"

"Okay. " The older one nods. "Where is she then?"

Sam sighs and darts his eyes around. "Not here."

Dean rolls his eyes in response. "Okay smartass. Take me to her-come on." Before the future lawyer gets to objectify-he finds himself being nudged toward the door.

Not long after that...interaction, the car comes to a stop at a bar parking lot. And Dean's body stiffens. It's quite late. So his sister is either :

working here(bad)

Drinking her brain off(bad bad)

Working here(very bad)

All three of these send Dean into a very silent fury and Sam is quick to pick up on that. So he rests his hand on his brother's thigh.

"Don't worry Dean, it's none of what you think." The words might've sounded reassuring but Sam's voice stank of a mockery. Toned with the kind of lightness you'd use when reassuring a small child. And so Dean fully ignores it , leaving the car without a word.

As the bar doors swing behind him, he scans the room for that familiar figure he'd seen grow up. But it was nowhere to be found.

He spins around, searching for Sam. "W..Where is she?"

Sam's features soften when he notices the worry etched across Dean's face. "She'll...." Drums suddenly pierce the greenly lit space and Sam's head swings up. The hunter's eyes follow- locking onto the stage. There-There's that figure, that of his little sister.

------

Shoulders burdened by the sacrifice

O' the promises the boy and his father pledged.

But the others fought and fled. Just as the father lost his head

And the boy turned into a man, shoulders heavier as that was always the plan

And he alone he hunted, like a big dark wolf,

No vows, no voices, no one to run to.

----

Cheerfully applause fills the room as the instruments quiet down. You wipe the sweat off your cheeks as you glance around the room, your intestines tightening the more you look around. You saw someone-or you think you saw someone?

As you step off stage, you softly push through the crowd as they congratulate you until you find yourself face to face with Dean.

His face is as easy to read as a children's reading book. As emotions ripple through his face, his chest heaves. And so does yours-just when you think about it. A lump winds up at your throat and you come to a halt.

"Dean."

His name betrays you- It almost feel foreign as you haven't said it out loud in a while. Between you and poor Sam, it's usually him or he. Phrases like where is...he? And is...is he doing okay? are his only chances to exist in your world-or so you think- Always accompanied by that hesitant silence. But not this time-this tim-

Dean leaps forward and before your body gets to jerk back, you find yourself locked in his embrace. And for a moment, the silence over on your left ear sends warmth down your body-and it's almost like you're whole again, but the outside world quickly returns, causing you to push back against your brother's chest.

You're still angry at him. for what reason? not sure. Maybe because he stopped calling? Maybe because he's not supportive enough. Maybe it's simply because he gave up on you.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" You ask coldly. And Dean quickly responds with a retort, earning a disappointed head shake from you.

"I should be asking you the same question, kid, what are you doing here?"

You turn your back to the crowd and to the stage, raising your hand in defiance. "I'm where i belong, Dean. I'm where i want to be."

Your older brother scoffs and you exhale. My god is this man tired. And this conversation too, like we haven't had it a million t-

"This? You don't belong here, kid-"

"Oh i belong with you? In a fucked up world full of injustice and death, Dean? Is that where i belong?" You raise your voice, attempting to bore through the noise-and to yell at him-simply. "In nasty motels and no life?"

"You belong with us-hunting- making the world a better place- actually doing something useful-"

Your heart stings as you process his words-which he himself weighs-later than he should have-and before he continues, you tsk. "No no"

You shake your head again. "I'm not having this conversation-Not until you tell me why you're here- if it's to get me back-Dean- get out-" You violently point at the door. "Get out because it's not happenin-"

"That's not why i'm he-"

"You could've called-You could've texted, man." You cut him off. "You could've asked about how i was doing-what i was doing. But you were simply too much of a coward to reach out-"

"i had nobody-honey-i had no one left. Not you- not Sam- Not dad.You left me just as i let go of you." Dean leans in and you step back. "Do not put this on me, kid." He tilts his head menacingly and you squint your eyes at him in response. "You chose this over me. There was nothing for me to do about th-"

"So it's my fault?! Is that what-"

"THAT'S NOT-" As he's about to lose his temper, the man runs a hand through his hair. "That's not why I'm here." He lowers his voice. "Please-let's talk outside." Your brother holds his hand out, his eyes pleading but you cross your arms over your chest, looking for Sam's eyes-searching for an answer from him. He won't answer, though. He had held his head down the whole time, he wouldn't break that now.

Your cheeks puff as you blow a breath out, brushing past both of them and heading for the door.

---

Outside, you sit down on the side walk and pull out a pack of cigarettes, taking one before pointing the pack at Dean, motioning for him to make himself comfortable. Instead, he narrows his eyes at you and glares in a disdainful manner.

"Oh and you smoke too?" His voice is not so bitter but- you want to be-

"I don't recall you participating in the birth of me, Dean. You might've raised me but you sure are not my dad, so back off."

Dean purses his lips before taking a leap towards you. "That's not what i meant-dumbass." Towering over you, he pinches at the cigarette resting in between your lips. "These are not good for your vocal chords." He snatches it and tosses it to the ground and your mouth falls open. Pure disbelief!

"Oh so now you're worried for them? but earlier-" Anger resurges and you get off the cemented floor. "You said they weren't useful."

"I-" Dean starts but quickly subdues, bringing his arms down to his hips. "I didn't mean what i said, okay?"

You falter, calming down before you're even conscious of it. And something itches at you-curiosity, causing you to stare at the man-hopeful and impatient.

"I didn't mean what i said-I....I like..." He hesitates. "I like that i can very easily notice my influence on your music taste. I mean those solos and that makeup and those lyrics." Dean snorts a laugh. "That's totally me."

A tiny chuckle leaves your lips. Though the answer is not the one you wanted, it is one you expected. You glance around, away from Dean.

"I don't have..much time left before my next song, so...." You swing your foot unattentively, shifting in place. You feel Dean straighten up.

"Are you happy here?"

The question sends a shiver up your spine and for some reason, your stomach tightens again. Because yes. yes you are. But before you get to answer that. Dean speaks.

"Of course you are-what a silly question." He mumbles and you sigh, guilt suddenly creeping in.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"No..No-of course not-I just-" He chuckles, though it sounds sad. "I...I actually don't know what to say, kid."

"Maybe be happy for me?" The words are barely audible as you're too hesitant, eyes still avoidant.

"I am-I really am. I just-I just don't understand why you left-" Dean takes a step closer to you.

"Dean-i'm actually-i matter here-"

"But you also matter when you hunt, kid-"

You finally snap-gently-firmly grabbing his arms. "But you don't need to hunt to make the world a better place." You finally find the courage to meet his eyes. And the frown shaping his forehead makes your heart ache but you continue- "As silly as this may sound to you-i too am making a change in the world-You know what- a week ago I met a little girl who told me my music saved her-Dean-do you realize how amazing that sounds?" Your words come out faster and faster. "I am doing something-I didn't leave just for the music and the crowds. I left because i knew that i belonged elsewhere-I belong somewhere on a stage- with a mic a few inches away from my lips-I-"

As Dean lowers his head to the ground and nods, a sense of sinking-doom settles within you. And you find yourself taking a step back, unable to hold the whimpers in.

"So this is it, huh?"

You step back even further as tears gather at your eyes. "It..It doesn't necessarily have to be?!"

One more try.

"Why can't i have both of you?! The music and you? Why is that so hard to accept, huh?"

You walk back to the door, swallowing the lump in your throat. "You know what-If you still can't have that-leave right now-Dean and i mean it-do not come anywhere near this door." A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. "But if there's a chance for us to be a family again, stay. This place holds many more secrets than you think. You never know what you might find here."

----

Hurrying inside and over to the stage, you blast a forced smile as applause fills the room again. You'd look at the far back b-you can't-you can't-the reality of the situation is too harsh-it would break you. But as the song begins and the instruments pound your eardrums, a familiar silhouette you've grown up seeing keeps stepping closer and closer to the stage, to you. And just as the lights flash white-

Your eyes are met with your brother's.

-----

so so so so sorry for that delay, again 👀 i am my worst enemy when it comes to writing. Alsooooo, I wrote that little stupid verse hehe I love being extra. Please let me know if yall enjoyed this and see you next tiime! 🌹🌹🌹🖤🖤🖤

[honeytonedhottie]

embodying the wellness girlie aesthetic⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

i rly love the pink pilates princess aesthetic so i thought i'd make a post on some habits that i've incorporated that rly fit this aesthetic. and improve my wellness in general.

THE PLAYLIST : for the pink pilates princess aesthetic i rly love to listen to music that makes me feel like a doll~ so the playlist aspect of this post is totally customizable and just suited to however u wanna feel. i listen to a lot of twice and sabrina carpenter when i work out. but listening to music just elevates the experience

THE NUTRITION : u dont have to do a complete 180 in the things that u consume, instead start implementing little by little, foods and drinks that'll improve ur health. bcuz u glow differently when ur glowing not only from the outside but the inside as well

kombucha - i totally recommend trying it if u haven't before. its kind of carbonated and u can get it in any flavors. kombucha in a nutshell is tea thats been fermented. it heals ur gut and contains lots of probiotics which are good for ur body in general

drink tea - drinking tea daily is so so so good for you. if ur a bit intimidated by tea start off with a tea 99% of people enjoy, spearmint/peppermint tea. idk many people who DONT like spearmint tea. its just an easy tea to enjoy and its RLY good for ur skin and ur body.

smoothies - look up smoothie recipes online! smoothies are so yummy and customizable so if u dont wanna directly consume ur veggies, you can get them in through a drink! its revolutionary. my go-to is strawberry and banana, bcuz its not only delicious and good for me, but its also pink which is the main reason

eat more salads, açai bowls, eat ur oats, drink ur smoothies and of course dont forget ur matcha

supplements - u can find wellness vitamins or supplements virtually anywhere. a brand that i rly recommend is ollie. im taking their hair skin and nails vitamins and they're lovely.

THE EXERCISE : if u go to youtube and look up follow along pilates workouts u can find SO many. use ur resources guys! if u try pilates and it isnt rly ur thing, try dance workouts or workouts for songs. try a workout challenge. working out doesn't have to be dull. the key is to find something that u enjoy doing and doing it consistently

SELF CARE : ofc the pink pilates princess prioritizes her self care time~ self care is just a good habit to incorporate period bcuz of the massive benefits on ur mental + physical + emotional state

do a face mask - hydrate ur skin guys

get ur nails done - the classic pink pilates princess nails are pale pinks and french tips

take a bubble bath - invest in a high quality bath bomb or bubble mixture that smells nice

invest in a gua sha

start oiling ur hair and putting in hair masks to keep ur hair healthy

write out what ur grateful for (self care isnt only physical)

GOING FOR WALKS : going for walks is amazing. walking improves cardiovascular health and reduces the chances of heart disease and strokes. i love to go for walks and listen to music or a podcast. just make sure that your walking in a safe space or with someone that u trust, especially if ur alone (stay safe <3) going for walks also helps clear ur thoughts!!

ATTIRE : buy clothes that make u feel cute and that make u feel good whilst working out! i like to wear a lot of pink when working out~ when i type pink pilates princess inspired outfits into pinterest i see a lot with leg warmers too! i think that having a cute outfit to workout in motivates u a lot to actually perform the actions and embody the wellness girlie aesthetic. cuz when u look the part -> u feel the part

and last but not least ENJOY urself and romanticize it, have fun <3

[juniperss]

Just Looking Out

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Warnings:  harassment from a stranger, super predictable plot and cliche so be prepared for that, it’s long. lots of fluff at the end. Protective Bill 

A/N: This was originally written on my main account a few years ago but I decided to move it here since I don't change this URL as often and it makes easier to find my writing! Also It's been a while since I wrote these so I'd like to think that I've improved somewhat since then!

Bill watched as you led the way through the soldier filled bar towards the small booth in the back that was currently half occupied with various members of Easy Company. The ones that weren't dancing with strangers or mingling around the bar that is. He could see the game of darts unfolding across the way between Buck and Babe, the ribbing and cheers carrying over the other sounds. He wondered briefly how you were able to weave so expertly through the crowds, but any remark about it was forgotten when you glanced over your shoulder as you checked to ensure he was still there before smiling excitedly at him.

"Guarnere! Doc!"

Floyd greeted the two of you loudly, the mug of beer in his hand sloshing. He wasn't drunk...yet, but his large smile and enthusiastic conversation that he resumed with Shifty and one of the replacements hinted that he wasn't too far off from that goal.  Time to relax and have fun was few and far between during the chaos that surrounded the world right now, so much so that it was easy to forget how young you all were. And that there was much to life to enjoy. Such as watching your friends drink a bit too much while leaning into the back of a rather uncomfortable booth and sipping on your own beer. Bill was beside you now, his shoulder bumping into yours occasionally, as stories about training made their way into the conversation sparking groans, laughter, and many a question from the replacements on how bad Sobel had truly been.

"I'm gonna get another drink even if I'll regret it in the morning." 

You quipped as you scooted out of the booth and nodded your head towards the bar. You were able to easily make your way to your destination as the once large crowd had dispersed more evenly throughout the bar as the evening grew later.  Leaning against the bar you waited for your drink you surveyed the room with ease. The dancing had wound down leaving a handful of couples swaying slowly. The music playing from the radio was familiar and calming, with a steady beat that made it achingly romantic.  Meanwhile the game of darts had changed players but was still going strong between Toye and Perconte. You bit back a smile at the sight. A cough at your shoulder startled you, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you turned your head quickly.

"Whoa there, dove!" 

The man was unfamiliar to you, dressed in civilian clothes with a mop of dark brown hair and scruff that was definitely not paratrooper regulation. Instinctively you moved to the left in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you assuming he had merely needed to place an order.

"Didn't mean to scare the pretty lady."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from replying and continued to stare straight ahead watching the dart competition continue. Ignoring unwanted attention wasn't new to you especially in your time training. Being apart of Easy Company hadn't been easy, but you'd learned when to bite your tongue and when it was the right time to stand up for yourself.

"Lemme pay for your drink, to make up for the scare." It wasn't a question and that only made the offer more annoying to you. As if you had given any indication that you were looking for an advance from him or any form of conversation. After a deep exhale you turned to face him. He was even closer than he had been a moment ago, the gap that you had placed between the two of you now gone.

"No, thank you. I'm here with my friends."

The man glanced towards the direction of Guarnere and the rest of the gang at the table, eying the uniforms before looking back at you. His eyes sparkled in determination at the mention of what he presumed to be a challenge.

"They don't seem to be missing you too much. Share a drink with me and maybe you won't miss them either."

This time the offer made your stomach turn and despite your best efforts you felt a prickle of familiar fear and discomfort creep through you. Sure soldiers made comments, often times very rude ones that cut, but you had been fortunate that your company seemed to appreciate you for the most part. Easy Company seemed especially protective and respectful of you. It was jarring to not have that respect from a stranger 

"Really, I'm fine. Thank you." 

As if the heavens had parted the bartender finally pushed your drink towards you, your escape now gifted to you as if on cue. But as you reached for the cup the man grasped your wrist. Once again instinct worked faster than your mind and in one fluid motion you yanked your arm way pulling the glass towards you in the process. It shattered loudly on the ground, glass and beer spraying across the floor. 

"Been a while since a man touched you?"

His fingers were still around your wrist but the grip had tightened after your initial pull away. His words alone were enough to make you want to scream for him to leave you alone, but it was the look in his eye just about sent you over the edge into full panic. 

"You better fuckin' let her go." 

Bill was behind you and then suddenly he was between the man and you, his large hand coming to grab the man's arm. Bill Guarnere was eerily calm and somehow that was more terrifying then if he was yelling. You watched as his grip tightened and the man's grip on your wrist loosened under Bill's pressure. 

Apparently the scene of the drink crashing to the ground had gained the attention of not only Bill, but the rest of the soldiers. Buck was stalking across the room in your direction while you could see that Toye had followed Bill up to the bar. The man, sensing that he was clearly out numbered finally released your wrist and began to back up.

  But Bill didn't let go of his arm. His knuckles were white and you would visibly see the pain of his grip flash across the victim's face. 

"Nah, you're not goin' anywhere. Apologize to her." 

The man's mouth fell open slightly as he glanced between you and Bill as if he didn't understand the command, as if apologizing for crossing the line with a woman was a foreign idea. But Bill didn't budge and as the other soldiers seemed to begin to swarm, the man finally relented. "Sorry." The apology was choked, either because the words hurt to say or because Bill's grip was getting more painful (perhaps a mixture of both). As soon as his arm was released the man was gone, retreating to the other side of the bar to where a group of locals parted to let him lick his wounds in the dark corner. 

Sensing that the situation was resolved Buck and Toye nodded to Bill and you before returning to their tables leaving the two of you standing amidst the broken glass and beer. "Let's go, doll," his voice was hushed just for you and you felt the way his hand ghosted your lower back, "we can go." You allowed him to steer you out of the bar, the same way you had easily guided him through the crowd earlier that evening which suddenly seemed ages ago. 

Silence hung between the two of you and  you both inhaled the sharp fall air outside. The moon was bright providing enough light to see the path back to your lodgings easily. Bill's hand never left your lower back, yet didn't touch you, as you began to walk slowly. There was no urgency to your movements and you settled into a comfortable rhythm. "...thanks, Bill."

He scoffed. Not in a dismissive manner or in a mocking way, but rather in a way that would suggest he was waving off your thanks. "You could've handled it. I knew that when I stepped in. I was just....furious." 

"You didn't look it. It was kind of scary actually." 

This time he smiled, glancing down at you. When Bill got angry he was a rough and tumble kind of man. He used his words and his fists to get his point across, to defend the honor of his loved ones before his own. It was rare that you saw his silent anger and as you had said, it was a bit more scary than one would believe. 

"Still. Thank you for rescuing me." You gently jabbed his side with your elbow causing the both of you to laugh. One time when you'd first met he had made the mistake of attempting to rescue you from a situation that he had no business in and accidently gotten a bruised lip from you in return. Once again silence washed over the two of you, more comfortable than before. It didn't take long before you'd reached the house you were being quartered in. It was a small cottage owned by an elderly couple who reminded you of the couple back home in the states who watched all the neighborhood children with a careful and protective eye.

"Doll?" 

You glanced at him when he used the pet name you'd grown accustomed to. Grown to love, really. His fingers traced the bone of your wrist, as if to chase away the memories of the strangers grasp on you. His fingertips were calloused but his touch was surprisingly gentle in contrast, warm too. Without thinking you stepped closer chasing the feeling. 

"Goodnight..." 

His words seemed to fail him in that moment. Whatever words he had planned on saying hanging in the space between you as if suspended by an invisible string, swaying back in forth just out of reach of either of you being able to grab them in time. Yet you both knew what they were. You took another step forward, still following his touch on your wrist, his fingers now having completely encompassed it. The tenderness of his hand and of his eyes drawing you in closer and closer until you felt your chest against his.

Slowly, so slowly Bill leaned down to kiss you. Part of you had expected rough lips and strong eagerness, but instead you were met with rough lips and curious seeking behind his kiss. A curiosity that seemed to only been fed as he dropped your wrist and moved to cup your cheeks with both of his hands. Warmth coursed through your body, your mind full of fluff and your heart racing wildly. You could feel his own heart pounding against his chest through yours.

 And just as slowly as the kiss began, he moved away.

"Goodnight, Bill."

[archangeldyke-all]

hihi! :) (let’s hope the tumblr gods don’t eat this)

do you have any thoughts about modern sevika tastes? i.e how she dresses, the scents she likes to wear, the music she might like, what her phone case might be like. things like that! :)

- topdrop anon

i have a few, but i would LOVE to hear your guys thoughts in the comments too!!

men and minors dni

she dresses practically: pants with lots of pockets, shoes with steel toes, breathable and easy to wash fabrics. but i think she's got a little fashion sense in her, and she knows how good she looks, so she's always buying her clothes just one size too small so all her muscles are on full display, pulling and tugging at the tight fabric of her clothes.

lots of shades of gray and black. some earthy tones-- olive greens and tans and browns. a few pops of color here and there: her favorite red jacket, the purple beanie she wears in winter.

all her socks are black. but her boxers are the cutsy-est things you've ever seen. prints of little hearts, dogs, kitties, ducks, lolipops; writing over the ass like 'eat me' or 'kiss me'; she keeps most of her attire serious, but her undies are always goofy.

i think her left arm would either be a prosthetic or covered in tattoos. shoulder to fingertips.

she's totally the type of person to drive in silence. or listen to the news. she doesn't really listen to music, but she's got a few jazz vinyls she's always cycling through at home. i think it's mostly instrumental, but she does have a soft spot for some soulful singing (which means she cries when nina simone comes on every. single. time. and can you blame her?)

as much as i want to make her a punk-rocker, i just think she'd find it noisy and annoying hahaha.

her phone case is either clear, or it's super bulky and has a little latch on it so she can latch it to her belt lmaoooo.

she keeps the background photo as the default picture it comes with, until she meets you. (she changes it to a pic of the two of you kissing the SECOND you agree to be her girlfriend. she grins after you say yes, pulls her phone out, and quickly changes her background, whispering, "fuck yes, i've been waiting to get rid of this boring ass wallpaper.")

i don't know how to describe scents, but i picture her smelling fresh, like kinda minty, but in a irish spring way. sandalwood too. but on top of all her soaps and lotions, she wears a really warm scented cologne, like tobacco and brown sugar and whiskey and coconut. like amber-y smelling?

she tries to deny the fact that she's got a sweet tooth. she's always munching on chips or nuts or other salty snacks. but that's just because if she starts on a sugary treat, she won't be able to stop herself until it's all gone.

you find this out after you gift her a pan of brownies for her birthday in the morning, and find that they're gone by lunchtime.

now, you always keep little chocolates and hard candies on you to pass to her when she looks stressed. she always gives you the biggest, happiest eyes you've ever seen, like you've just handed her a check for a million dollars instead of a peanutbutter cup.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

[duckchu]

Hello, honey! I've been following you for a long time and I adore your works! And I want to make a request! HEARTSTEEL members x Fem!Indie game developer!Reader. Reader has been creating indie games for a long time (such as Undertale and Deltarune), and also writes soundtracks for them (like Toby Fox. I love this genius!). I would also like to create an indie game based on the League of Legends universe (I would choose Targon from the regions, and I would choose Aphelios from the characters that the player would control). But I don't have any programming skills! So I'll have to write interactive fanfic... Thank you very much! You're just a sunshine!💋💋💋💋

Sorry for the long wait (I recognise how long actually named asks sit in my inbox for rather than anon ones, idk why) and thank you for the kind words

I also kinda didn't know how to go about this so every guy has 3 "parts":

You working late

Putting one of their items as cosmetic (kinda changed in Kayn's and K'Sante's part)

And music

Kayn

Thinks you're cool

Enjoys sitting with you late at night while you code

May or may not convince you to sneak a Rhaast easter egg in

Though will often try to distract you if you're not paying enough attention to him

Enjoys bothering you when you compose

He's silly like that

So please, for the sake of your sanity, lock your room

Yone

Doesn't mind your work, but will make you stop if you're pulling all nighters

Might even pick you up and carry you to bed, telling you you need some sleep

One day, while he was watching you play test, noticied one of the items in your game looked suspiciously like his mask

Finds it really cute

Will help you with the music, if you'd like

Loves working with you

Aphelios

You stay up all night working?

Cool, he is too

Unless he notices you're tired

Then he pulls you into his lap and works with one hand while petting your hair with the other

It makes you fall asleep in seconds

Let him play test pleaseee

When you do, he 100% the game in a week

Not because it's easy, but because he's a sweaty try hard

Found you put his mask in the game as a cosmetic

Melted on the spot

Sometimes will give you songs as gifts

So you can put them in the game

Loves hearing them if you decide to use them

Ezreal

He's such a bitch if you overwork yourself

Will try to direct your attention to him at all cost

-Y/N, I'm boreeed -

Please keep on torturing this little shit with lack of attention

He deserves it

But also

If you put his sunglasses as an item, he will love you ten times more

As for the music?

Doesn't really know a lot about composing but loves listening to your pieces

Sett

You're overworking yourself?

No, you're not.

You're sitting on his lap and watching a movie with him

Doesn't care about your protests, you have to take care of yourself

When he first saw your character having his beanie on when you were playing the game, he had to do a double check

Gave you a big hug

He thinks it's really cute

As for the music, he thinks it's really good

You scrap something?

He's gonna use it as background for his totally awesome solo

Don't tell anyone else tho

He'll get embarrassed

K'Sante

He can't force you to rest, but he will insist on it

If you have some important work to do, he won't try to stop you, but will bring you meals and drinks if you want

Will usually chill in your room and design while you work

Speaking of designs... he was surprised when you asked him if you could take a look at his tablet

But he trusts you, so why not

Was shocked when one day he saw you putting one of his designs as a clothing option

Loves it and thinks that it looks good even when pixelated

Although he's not the greatest composer, he will try to help you

It usually turns into fan favourite soundtracks

So you don't mind his suggestions

[not-poignant]

Raphael has a very poetic and grandiose way of speaking that is absolutely not the norm for day-to-day life. How do you get in the mindset to come up with his dialogues? They're perfection and I just can't even imagine how long it would take to do one paragraph of the way he talks, but you're writing an entire story with him...

Oh I love this question because I can answer it, lol sadlkjfsda

Okay so, Raphael's character is tough for me.

Normally I do a lot of dialogue research before starting to write a character in fanfiction and original fiction, but Raphael actually gets proportionately very few lines that really show his full emotional range (compared to say, Astarion), and he's got an incredibly specific way of talking that sounds similar to Astarion but at the same time is very different.

They share enough similarities (calling people darling and dear for example) that it's easy to fall into the trap of giving them the same 'voice.'

I find Astarion's voice a lot easier to 'get' and I feel like I can hear him better when I'm writing him. But Raphael I'm taking into emotional spaces we simply never see in the game, and then I have to really guess how he'd sound (like coming up with the idea that the theatricality vanishes when Raphael is genuinely panicking).

I ended up listening to a lot of interviews with Andrew Wincott, the Voice Actor for Raphael who is an incredible actor and extremely articulate. He was very clear in one of his interviews that one of the reasons he was selected to play Raphael was because, in part, he already sounded like him. Obviously there's differences / skill in changing cadence and more, but for the most part, Andrew Wincott uses similar vocabulary and talks in a similar manner to Raphael naturally, so I had an abundance of interviews that I could then listen to in order to get a feel for Raphael's voice. I picked the things that felt more 'Raphael' and added them to my dialogue notes.

I often have to go back and edit Raphael's dialogue. Sometimes it's very simple things, I had him say 'much more' in the chapter I'm editing right now, and I edited it to 'far more' because I think he'd just phrase it like that. Sometimes I expand a sentence into an entire paragraph.

I've also leaned a lot from Korilla's transcripts in the game, which have been super useful. They really cement, more than anything, how much he loves lullabies, nursery rhymes, children's tales and more.

HOW TO DO DIALOGUE RESEARCH:-

If you're new to dialogue research, it mostly involves listening to - and watching a character and then literally taking notes of how they talk. The things you observe are:

The tone of their voice - Fast or slow. Loud or soft. Musical or flat. Theatrical or matter-of-fact. High or low. Questioning or complete statements. Considered or hedging (i.e. very well constructed sentences, or a lot of pauses, ellipses, broken sentences). Rambling or concise.

How often they talk - Some characters actually say a lot with very little. Raphael is actually a lot of observation and facial expressions and eyebrow movements in between his dialogue. Little smirks, hand gestures and more. Do they interrupt or let people finish their sentences? Are they comfortable with silence? I find Raphael oscillates between long theatrical paragraphs, single sentences or words, and then a lot of silence. He's actually not very conversational, in that you can have a conversation with him, but I doubt he'd see the point of two hours of small-talk. (At this point you might be realising that dialogue research is also character research, how a character talks tells you so much about a character.)

The words (and metaphors/subjects) they use - This is a big one and I'm going to break this down a little bit more:

How they pause if they don't know what to say. Is it 'um' 'uh' 'ah' 'hm' 'mm' 'mn' or nothing at all (or something else) because they've mastered self-control over their dialogue? If Raphael says 'ah' he does so on purpose.

Filler words. Things like characters saying 'like' in a sentence. 'He was like, 'I can't believe it'' etc. This is very similar to how they pause, but it's the things people say to get from point A to point B. People who don't do this have often had training or think very hard about what they're going to say before they say it. But people say 'like' or 'and then' or 'well' or 'i realised that' or 'i thought that' etc. to carry them on. Some are more acceptable than others (people do just have realisations for example).

Profanity. How often do they swear, and how intentional is it? Some characters only swear when they get hurt or stub their toe or get angry. Some characters swear all the time for fun. Some characters only use some swear words and not others. Be specific. Be aware that some swear words are cultural! This includes blasphemy. In Faerun they use 'gods' and 'gods damn it' more often than we use 'god' or 'oh my god.'

Vulgarity. This is useful for Raphael (and Astarion) because he's very happy to be vulgar. This is like... how comfortable are they talking about sex, about sexual subjects, being crude, being seductive, flirtatious? And if they use it, do they use vulgarity to shock, seduce, scare, threaten, or for humour?

Salutations and farewells. How do they greet people? Silence? A calm hello? (A lot of greetings are omitted in dialogue but this is still good to know). How do they say hello, goodbye. How does that change between friends and enemies and strangers?

Single word sentences. This might sound weird, but sometimes when a character hears something that shocks them, or needs to acknowledge something, they may say anything from 'huh' to 'yeah' to 'fuck' to 'okay' to 'all right' to 'sure' to 'go on' to 'indeed' to just laughing out loud. The list goes on. Raphael is team 'indeed' lmao.

Sentence structure. Raphael's sentence structure is - when he's most comfortable - gently provoking, teasing, vaguely threatening, and makes liberal use of simile, metaphor, fairy tale, rhyme, sayings, colloquialisms and more. Raphael talks like someone who knows someone could quote him at any moment lmao. But from here, how a character structures their sentences can be helpful to know. Go back to 'the tone of their voice.' Those notes will give you an idea of structure.

Emotionality. How emotional are they? Do they have rage rants? Joyful giggling dialogue? Do they infodump with little emotion? Or with sheer excitement? Does their dialogue feel fake or real? Opaque or transparent? Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves, and others will never be able to say 'I love you' in anything other than actions. Raphael's emotionality in dialogue is more present in his anger and irritation, and also when he feels triumphant and/or turned on.

The symbols, sayings, colloquialisms and metaphors themselves. Not all characters use these. But some people/characters will talk through analogies, colloquialisms. This is actually Raphael's biggest dialogue departure from Astarion, imho, aside from the fact that Astarion is a lot more emotional with his dialogue.

Take into account their culture, ethnicity, conceits, upbringing, education and the people they're close to:

This one is vital. Firstly, some people tend to 'absorb' elements of those around them. A person raised by affluent people will often 'sound affluent' and a person raised in poverty will often have dialogue that reflects this and if they don't there will be reasons for that. It might be a conceit (some people self-teach themselves different accents), it might be education, it might be training, it might be the subculture/s they've entered into, and so on.

~

When doing this research, you'll end up with a kind of master-list of actual words and probably some sentences you've written down, along with a lot of notes. You can also do this for any original characters you're making at all, you're just then making it up based on the character, and this research will also give in many ways the shape of the character.

It's a fun exercise and I highly recommend everyone tries it literally for people who don't exist and also observe your friends and family, and do a dialogue cheat sheet for some of them. It's pretty eye-opening! Even one page will teach you more than nothing at all. You can go deep and write many pages, or you can do what I do and keep it lean at 2 pages. Anyone who struggles with characterisation I suggest at least try this exercise, because anyone can put on a YouTube video and/or streaming service or even a favourite Tiktoker and start doing dialogue research! It's a way of building a character from the top down while also getting information about their foundations.

[wordfather]

snad how do i get back into writing

i usually just go outside and look around for a while. fall in love a little bit with how the trees are moving and the flower thats growing out of the sidewalk and the grey hue of the clouds and the way fresh air feels in my lungs. i try not to think for a while. no music no screens. just me. (i believe the pros call this a grounding exercise. i just call it me time. its more fun that way)

then i go inside and write about it or whatever else comes to mind – and i try not to make a big deal out of it. if i treat writing like a huge deal, i get discouraged when its not perfect. so i let my writing breathe and be as imperfect as it wants to be. i let it be 10 words or 10.000 words, it doesn't matter – as long as it gets to be there.

rinse and repeat until it becomes a part of your life. just like making coffee or tying your shoelaces or whatever else is a gentle part of your life. you dont even have to go outside if you dont feel like it – you can also just look out the window or look at the ceiling or look to your right or look to your left. as long as you breathe deeply and find something you can find words about, it works.

dont pressure yourself to write a lot or write for a whole hour (unless that works for you). as long as you write something – you're writing. if you need goals, start simple. write 50 words today. and if thats too easy, a 100. 200. whatever works for you!

and when you're comfortable with it, it becomes easier. you can start projects. fanfiction or short stories or a whole book – whatever feels right to you. editing and plotting can be daunting but there are many resources online to use as guides!

its cool to lose yourself in it too – i spent 4 hours the other day furiously writing because i got really inspired. but its okay to also not be inspired and write 1 word and be done for the day, thats cool too. i just wrote 'chapter 2' yesterday and browsed pinterest for an hour. its still something! and today i wrote this post! and maybe i'll do some editing! dont let lack of words bring you down – there's always another day tomorrow.

bonus: whenever i dont know what to write, i like to focus on the senses. drink tea and write about the warmth and taste of it. feel different fabrics with your fingers and describe them. write about your heartbeat, in anyway that feels right in the moment. (looking up prompts sometimes overwhelms me, so i like to look around and just find something i could write a sentence about) dont worry about it not making sense or being interesting – just let the words out. and if you want something more, look up prompts! there's always a bunch to find! i've recently been using prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting !

anyways tldr; just breathe, find something simple and find words about it. let it be imperfect (you can always edit it later if you want to). ease writing into your life. set easy goals. pat yourself on the back. focus on the senses or look up prompts. and most importantly of all – do it for you. perfection doesnt exist but you do and you have the freedom to write whatever the hell you want.

also pinterest fucking rules. go on pinterest.

[mayajadewrites]

Sweet Secret (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F! Reader CEO Levi Ackerman coming in hot. I've been wanting to write a CEO Levi/Sugar daddy Levi story for a hot minute. Enjoy! Story Summary: You needed a job. Ackerman Inc was hiring for an in house assistant for none other than the CEO: Levi Ackerman. He's known to be essentially the worst to work with, you decide to take the job and take on the challenge that is Levi Ackerman. Will your relationship remain professional, or will their be monetary value added to the stakes? Or possibly even... love? ao3 Chapter Fourteen: Tinted

It's 8 PM when you arrive at the bar. You hear the voices of Hange and Eren, who are presumably drunk already and singing a song together. Mikasa was a few feet away from them, shaking her head. Erwin was busy typing away on his phone next to Hange. You spot the rest of the crew - Sasha, Connie, Jean, Petra and Armin who were chatting away in a heated debate.

You walk in front of Levi, careful not to let your feelings be shown. You've been eyeing him ever since you got in the car - the fringe of his jet black hair covering part of his face. His shoulders filled out the top he was wearing perfectly along with his biceps. Your gaze then went to his large hands, which are veiny and calloused. 

"You guys made it!" Hange broke away from Eren to hug you. "You're late, me and Eren are already tipsy!"

"Looks like we made it here right on time." Levi's voice spoke behind you. "Four eyes please behave yourself. We don't need an incident like last years holiday party." 

"What was this incident?" You whip your head around to Hange.

"Well... I may more may not have spilled wine on some very important people... and I may or may not have spilled some on their white carpet." 

"Red or white..."

"Red." Hange winced. "BUT we're at a bar this time! There's no rugs!"

Levi put his hands in his pockets as he walked up to the bar, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. You watched his stature as he leaned against the countertop - your mind wandering.

"I see why Levi says you have a staring problem." Erwin chuckled as he took a sip of his beer. "You sure this is just a simple arrangement?"

"I-Yes. Yes it is." You turn away from where your gaze previously was. "What about you? Do you have anyone special?

"Not as of now." Erwin sat on a barstool. "It's hard when people like Levi and myself are so busy. Personal relationships aren't easy to come by."

"I get that." You nod as Levi hands you a glass of white wine. You nod to say thank you as he tells the rest of the crew that the drinks are ready. "Any woman would be so lucky to have you, Erwin. I hope you know that." 

"That means a lot." His index finger taps the side of the beer bottle. "Levi found a great woman so easily, hope it's that way for me."

"What?" You stare at him for a moment, raising your eyebrow.

"Nothing. I think Hange is calling me!" 

As the night goes on, everyone starts to get a bit looser. You move your hips to the beat of the music surrounded by your coworkers. The music is blaring through the speakers and you can barely hear anything that's going on. Your eyes search for Levi, when you find him he's sitting back on a barstool next to Erwin, but he's staring at you. His eyes are half-lidded and sultry as he sips his whiskey. You watch as the liquid coats his lips and you wish you could taste the liquor from his lips.

"Hey!" Jean pulled on your wrist gently. "Wanna dance?" 

Your heart started to beat faster from the anxiety of it all. You and Levi both agreed this is an arrangement, a simple transaction where you both get something good out of it.

Jean is cute.

Levi is not yours. If he wanted to dance with Petra, he could. You couldn't say anything about it. 

"Sure." You nod, taking Jean's hand. You wrap your arms around his neck loosely as you moved to the beat, your ass facing Levi. Jean's face is pressed against your cheek as he whispers, "You look stunning tonight." 

"Thank you." You smile, pulling away just a bit. "You don't look bad yourself."

Jean's hand wandered to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. Your stomach felt like it was doing flips. Falling from the top of the Empire State Building.

Connie and Sasha were dancing next to you, cracking jokes and being silly like always. "No Sasha! THIS is how you do the running man." 

"Connie, you look so stupid." Sasha shook her head and crossed her arms. You and Jean laughed, but all laughter stopped.

"Hey, boss!" Jean waved.

"It's still Mr. Ackerman outside of work." Levi's tone was flat. "I need her for a second, I just got an urgent message from a client and she has the answer in her notes."

"Okay!" Jean quickly let go of you. He smiled at you as you walked behind Levi to go outside to his car. You pull out your phone to scroll through the notes you have from the previous meeting. 

When you walk outside, it's raining. You watch the raindrops fall onto Levi's skin, falling over his lips. He opened the door for you to get in the car and went around to the drivers side.

"What did they ask? I have all my notes right here-"

"They didn't call me." Levi ran his fingers through the front of his hair. 

"So... why did you make me come out here?"

Levi was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for the right thing to say. 

"I guess I just wanted you away from Kirstein." 

"We were just dancing."

"He was touching you."

"You sort of have to touch when you dance with someone." 

"I didn't like it." 

"I'm not sure what to say." You bit down on your bottom lip. "I'm allowed to let someone else touch me. You said if I wanted to sleep with someone else-"

"I didn't say you're not allowed." Levi interrupted your sentence. "I said I didn't like it."

"Okay..." You raised your eyebrow and looked at his face. His expression was stern, his charcoal grey eyes the same color as the sky. The rain beat down on the car, the sound of the drops hitting the outer shell getting louder and louder.

"Is that all?" You reach your hand to the inner handle of your door. Levi grabs your wrist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your noses were almost touching with how close he pulled you. Your elbow reseted on the center console as you leaned toward him.

"Levi, we're in public." You analyze his face. He looks so beautiful in this light. His skin is a bit damp from the rain and pieces of his hair are stuck to his forehead.

"The car is tinted." He leaned into you just a bit more and let his lips ghost yours. You could feel the arousal in your core as the scent of his cologne filled your nostrils.

"We're in a car." You let out a shaky breath, wanting to attach your lips to his. Levi's hand caressed your cheek gently as you spoke. 

"I'm not blind." 

"Well you are crazy." 

Levi pushed the lever to pull the seat back, while simultaneously pulling you on top of his lap. Your thighs pressed against the top of his legs are he pulled you into a kiss. His fingers got lost in your hair as he pulled you roughly into him. He was being desperate and possessive and his kisses reflected that. His tongue slid into your mouth without warning, leaving you almost breathless. 

You felt his hard erection against your core as you kissed him. You leaned down to press your chest onto his and straddled his lap, letting your skirt pool at your hips. 

"Were you jealous, Mr. Ackerman?" You tilted your head to the side, kissing his neck gently as you spoke. His skin felt hot as your lips danced around the area.

"No." He said sternly. 

"Mhm." You mumble against his skin, giving the spot a small bite. A moan left Levi's lips as you began to kiss, bite, and suck. His hands trailed from your shoulders down to your ass, giving it a loud slap. You giggle as his hand leaves your ass cheek. 

"You like that, don't you?" 

You are feeling particularly bold from the alcohol. You sit up and grab Levi's hand, bringing it under your skirt to the front of your underwear - which was soaked. His fingertips grazed the moist fabric. "Do you think I do?" 

Levi bit his bottom lip and slipped two fingers past your underwear to your throbbing pussy. Your legs tighten around his waist as he thrusts his digits in and out of you, curling them as he goes. His thumb softly rubs your clit, automatically getting a reaction from you. 

"You're such a brat, you know that?" His lips attached to your ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

"I've been told." You throw your head back as his fingers move at a quicker pace. He felt your gummy walls pulsate around his digits as he bit your shoulder.

"What am I gonna do about that mouth of yours? You should be punished." Levi stopped moving for a moment, letting you come to the realization that he stopped.

"Levi." You whine.

"You can't come until I say so." 

"You're the worst." Levi's fingers enter you again and it takes everything in you not to come. His thumb rubs soft circles on your clit which only add to the overstimulation. "Levi, baby please-" You moan. "Please let me come." 

His fingers thrusted in and out of you faster, the entire length of his fingers disappearing inside of you. When he curled his fingers the last time, you almost lost it. 

"This isn't- this isn't fair." Your breathing gets shaky. "Can I come, please." The outer rim of your vision turns white.

"Yes." Levi said and you let everything go. He kept finger-fucking you through your orgasm, letting you ride out the euphoria. Warm liquid dripped down to his fingers. "I bet you didn't even know you could do that." He kissed you as he rubbed your clit, coating it with a mix of your arousal and liquid.

Once you came back to earth, your hands messed with his belt, quickly pulling his pants down. His hard cock slapped his stomach as it was freed.

"I don't have a condom." He said almost painfully.

"We're past that, Levi." You position yourself on top of him, the tip of his cock grazing your slit. His hands were planted on your thick thighs, squeezing them gently. The way he looked up at you was like he's seen an angel. You slowly bring your body down on top of his cock, your pussy stretching from his side.

"Fuck." He moaned, guiding your hips up and down his cock. "You're so wet, but so tight for me." 

You bounced your ass on top of him, letting your chest press against his. You put your arm back to grab his dick from behind, slowly guiding it into your pussy. His eyes are almost glued shut as you engulf his length. He moans your name while thrusting into you as you ride him. 

Your hands are on his shoulders as you grind your hips to his, listening to the squelching sounds of Levi's cock entering you. 

"You feel so fucking good. I could fuck you forever." Levi moaned your name. "I'm gonna come. Are you close, princess?"

You nod as you close your eyes and let the euphoria take over. Levi's nails dig into your plush ass as his thrusts become more messy, signaling that he's about to come.

Your walls pulsate around his cock and you moan his name loudly. "Levi," 

That was it for Levi. He pressed his entire length into you as he bottomed out, filling your insides with his cum. He groaned as he released, kissing your shoulder gently. You begin to breath heavily as you look out the window, only to see steam from the temperature of both your bodies.

Levi took a deep breath as he pulled his underwear and pants back on, helping you with your skirt. He gazed into your eyes as your heart rate came down. His index finger moved a stray hair behind your ear. Your face is red, your skin. is bruised, and your hair probably looks nothing like it did when you went in. You turn around while still on Levi's lap to look at yourself in the rearview mirror.

"Let me not look like I just had my insides rearranged." You ran your fingers through your hair while fanning your face.

"You look beautiful." Levi's lips kissed your cheek as his hands wandered down your waist to your thighs, gripping them tightly.

This is not just an arrangement, is it? 

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Jimin - Muse (2024)

3/5 ☆

I thought it'd get me several days to come back here with some thoughts on Muse, but it proved it's not necessary.

Who as title track makes complete sense. We're still into 90s nostalgia, but it's a recipe that works. Not just in kpop, but pop in general. Looking at the charts, it paints a pretty clear picture for the last couple of years. Add the zoomer idea of a what a Y2K aesthetic is like and we get the recipe for today's music and concept. Repeat, reuse, recycle. How fitting for postmodernism.

Who is a really catchy tune, with lyrics easy to remember and sing out loud. A tad more commercial-sounding than Like Crazy, but that's Muse overall anyway. The truth is, I have the song on loop (streamers can't come for me, lol). I think Jimin's style of singing and the melody itself are a good fit. Lyric wise, it's sort of basic, but this is pop music made for mass consumption. I don't mind it. It's also radio friendly and definitely has the potential for summer hit, but I'm 99% sure it won't turn into one. BH won't move a finger to send it to radio and it's another song that will fall victim to fandom mass streaming to chart high for one week. I've seen this all before.

It's also a shame to have this released when an artist is away, without being able to properly promote it. In my non-expert opinion, it could have been released as a single a few months later after Face and scratch the rest of Muse or keep it in the drafts.

As to the other songs, perhaps Rebirth (Intro) is the only other song on the album that has something to it, it stands out a bit more and it also bridges the two albums, despite the connection being sort of flimsy.

Having Sofia Carson on Slow Dance had brought nothing to the song. It could have been a full Jimin track all the way. Her style of singing does not stand out and I find it a failed pair because there's no contrast or voices complementing each other. Jimin can sing just like her. If a collab is really wanted/needed/necessary, then I'd wish for a pairing that also makes sense vocal-wise.

Be Mine is ok, but it sounds too much like that one TXT song and I simply can't get over past it. It's afro beat and latino influence which has been all the rage in the past few years, which Hybe has been pushing a lot. It explains the song.

SGMB and Closer Than This were previously released and I'm not covering them again.

I think it's difficult for me to not make comparisons to Face, considering both albums were produced around the same period, without much time left in between them. One is simply more cohesive and has a depth that showcases a first solo attempt, while the other one is clearly going a more commercial route with less of a personal signature.

Despite Muse being promoted as another conceptual album, I find that umbrella to be a bit forced given that the theme of finding love is really a generic one. Perhaps way too generic with not much individuality. Does it show Jimin's vocal range? Yes. Does it show him trying various genres? Yes. In this case, perhaps Muse is a bit similar to Golden in some aspects, with the difference that Jimin gets producing and writing credits in 5/6 songs. So his involvement is greater, but the scope of the album is in the same category as Golden, which is another production that had this LOVE as an overarching theme. But without much more to it that would make it stand out lyrically. The focus on both is genre diversity and vocal capability.

In short: I like Who (I also like Ace of Base songs and all those silly 90s pop songs, so my music taste is most likely considered bad, but I don't care). I think Muse overall is an amalgam of whatever is trendy at the moment, without being able to truly stand out and say more about Jimin, apart from his capabilities as idol/performer. Perhaps that was the point too.

P.S. My inbox has been closed for anonymous asks since I reblogged a few days ago my post about using lyrics as clues for personal life. It seems that it invited homophobia and I won't have that here.

I'm keeping it that way for now because I'm sure my personal "review" on Muse will either be seen as an invitation for people to either bash me for not thinking it's the album of the year or to be seen as an opportunity for others to talk shit about Jimin, Who and the album overall. I found that usually there is no middle ground with kpop stans/army/Jimin stans, etc.