#workin zach

[tedgensisreal]

Help my baby ,Don't leave my baby alone please

🍉I am Hala, a Palestinian from the besieged and destroyed Gaza Strip 😭😭. I fled the war with my husband to Egypt..

The story began on March 21, 2024 when my beautiful child was born.. He was a wonderful and special child.. Suddenly, a week after his birth, my child Abdul Aziz's belly swelled up a lot and I visited several doctors without discovering the reason.. After another week of the child's suffering, I took him to a specialized hospital and the doctors there discovered a blockage in Abdul Aziz's colon that prevented him from excreting stool.. It was decided to perform a surgical operation consisting of an opening in Abdul Aziz's belly to temporarily remove stool from his intestines until the affected part of the colon was removed in another complex surgical operation that cost thousands of dollars..😭😭

I am speaking to you now with great sadness about my child's condition and I ask you to help me and donate to me to collect the costs of the operation within a month from now.

I appeal to everyone who can donate any amount, no matter how small, because it will save my child and give us hope.

Please don't leave my son alone to suffer and struggle in these difficult days alone.. You can support my campaign by donating what you can or share my posts to reach others who can help us by raising the cost of the surgery you are helping in the life of an innocent child with your small contribution. ❤❤🍉🍉

Every donation makes a difference in his very difficult life

[ender-of-the-sender]

MAL URE SO AWESOME WE R BEST FRIENDS NOW WHETEHR U LIKE IT OR NOT!! TAKE A HENRY PICTURE!! :3

YIPPEEEEEEEE

[tedgensisreal]

does he fw tedgens

Originally I was gonna post; “Sometimes I forget that our Ted introject could easily look at this shit and judge me”

But then he jumpscared me and confirmed that he is not judging me, so..

Free pass to say weird shit! (Joke)

[biologyologyy]

I LOVE MY DAD & MY SIBLING

[allhailwiggly]

in a few years starkid should release workin girls a short film where henrietta hidgens has to direct a genderswapped version of her play

[thosetrollkids]

cooking up fresh references for aus but i gotta wait until i have all three done to post so i can motivate myself andnabxx

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮" - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐩 | 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 | 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬

*Rafe is in his 40s

𝖈𝖔-𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍: @nadvs

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝓌𝑜

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Stalker!Rafe, Perv!Rafe, reader is Rafe’s friend’s sister, swearing, Rafe is a perv, age gap, public masterbation, fantasies about the reader, blood, mentions of murder, mentions of gun violence, mentions of general violence, suicide attempt, Rafe goes through her phone, peeping Tom, steals nude pictures, watches the reader masterbate, praise, Rafe’s POV

📖 College Professor Rafe Cameron has been dating you for months. You just don’t know it yet.💋

🔪 I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl. 🔪

🔪Hello, You.🔪

6.8 K

Rafe’s POV:

“Oh, shit.” I look out on the lecture hall, crammed wall to wall—mostly old birds and a few young professors sprinkled amongst the AARP members. Jesus Christ. I match the eyes of one of my old lecturers from my time here. She gives me a little smile, and I nod, making a blush creep across her wrinkled cheeks before the lights fall low.

Do I deserve my name on a plaque on an office door at this fine university? Absolutely fucking not. But I paid for the building after all… American History; all first-years. You can’t mess that shit up.

I relax into the wall a bit, accepting my fate, lifting my coffee to my lips, taking a sip. “R.” I hear a familiar voice. A couple of heads turn toward me, leading me to a familiar face. I smile and chuckle as I shuffle toward the aisle, scooching through the crowd.

“Hey, man,” I greet him, shaking his hand before slipping my leather bag off my shoulders, taking a seat.

“R.C.,” he breathes, surprised to see me here, happy nonetheless.

“Zachary.”

“Guess they're hiring anyone these days,” he taunts, jabbing me in the side playfully, making me snort out a lazy laugh. I can’t lie; I’m happy to see him here. One friend is plenty. The guy is a fuckin’ nerd, but he’s a good person. “Pretty sure we both had class in this lecture hall,” he sighs blissfully, recalling a simpler time.

“Yeah, man. I think we did… How long have you been workin’ here for?” I ask between sips of coffee.

“Ten years.”

“Jesus, man,” I huff. We've been outta school for that long, huh?

“Nah, buddy,” he groans. “Longer. Started working here right after graduation. Been workin’ my way up the ladder ever since.”

“That’s great,” I nod, watching our Dean of Students strut across the hall's main floor. “You like it here?”

“Love it,” he smiles. “Why are you here?” Zach furrows his brows, asking the question he wanted to ask from the beginning. It’s no secret I got money to spare. There’s gotta be some reason I’m here. I’m sure he’s curious.

“I got bored. Thought I’d go back to school; just did it casually. N’here I am.”

“Here you are,” he echos through a weak laugh. “I mean, you own the place at this point. Huh?” Zach wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.

“Almost,” I chuckle, fully aware that the Cameron Library and The Cameron School of Business makes this current faculty position a little absurd.

“Glad to have you here. Truly,” he adds earnestly.

“Good to be here, man,” I smile as I relax into my seat a little more, getting ready for a day of gettin’ talked at, I’m sure. Zach adjusts in his seat, pulling his phone out of his slacks, thumbing over his messages.

Sis: Did you want anything to eat?

Zach: Nah. I’m fine.

Sis: Sounds good. Black coffee, two creams, two sugars?

Zach: Please and thank you.

“So…” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “Do you have any family here? You married or what-” I question, trying to be as calm as possible.

“Nah… Not really the marriage type. Family, yeah, my sister goes here now.”

”No shit?” I ask, trying not to be too interested, but I can’t help but catch his lock screen. Him and an absolutely stunning woman posed next to each other in front of the Golden Pavilion in Kyoto. They weren’t cuddled up with each other, just smiling… That smile. I run my hands down my shirt, smoothing out any wrinkles, raking my fingers through my hair, pushing it back slightly. Please be her.

“She’s a Kappa Girl.”

“Not a Kappa Girl,” I taunt through an exaggerated groan. He scoffs and rolls his eyes away. If it was anything like it was back in the day that house in nothin’ short of a brothel.

“She isn’t like that, Cameron,” he drones. “She doesn’t even live at the house. She’s got good grades. Like good good. Fuckin’ great actually—above a 4.0. They recruited her. The Kappas took some heat after gettin’ in trouble a few too many times. They were gonna lose their charter, so they switched from a social sorority to one based in education. Fuckin’ nerds,” he adds, making me chuckle, dissing her just like I had dissed him just a few short minutes before.

“Runs in the family. Huh?”

“Fuck off,” he snickers. Zach hangs his head low, pitching the bridge of his nose as he lets out an exhausted sigh.

“You good?”

He nods and yawns, eyes set on the speaker up front. “These old bitches can go fuckin’ hard. We went to Lord Fletcher’s last night. Janice over there can drink you under the table… Six advils today already. Y/n is comin’ over with a coffee for me. Thank god. I’m hurtin’ over here,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Zach’s eyes brighten as he looks toward the lecture steps. I feel my heart racing in my chest, my palms sweating, almost too nervous to look. I mean, that could have been his ex-girlfriend. But what if it’s the best-case scenario? What if it’s her? What if she’s you, princess? I turn my attention to the end of the aisle, watching that same girl shuffle along the line of people, clutching coffees, doing her best not to spill.

Fuck me.

My eyes travel up your body, your bare legs on full display, making my stomach fill with butterflies. You lean in, your sweet perfume amplified by the warmth of your flawless body from the late August heat. The second the coffee leaves your hand, I’m trying to get your attention on me. “I’m Rafe,” I smile, extending my hand toward you.

You juggle your books and your own coffee in your hands clumsily, extending a hand as well, making me instantly feel bad for putting you through the hassle, but the contact is worth it— soft and smooth, a firm grip on mine. You bat your long lashes at me. I can’t tell if you’re just trying to get a better look in the dim light or if you like what you see, but my heart is racing regardless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rafe,” you reply, talking directly to me… “See you at home,” you whisper to Zach, who gives you a little wave as he swipes through his phone again. I smile when you look over your shoulder, the light pouring in from outside the lecture shining on you like a beacon. A fuckin’ angel on earth. My girl.

Hello, you.

It’s been sixty-seven days since we met—sixty-seven beautiful days of studying my favorite subject. You’re lovely, princess. Everything about you is. Even the little things you do out of habit. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re stressed, lips pursed, eyes wide. I know every look, every smile, taking each beautiful change of your face into memory. I can read you like a book.

I wanted it to be natural. How blatantly obvious would it be if I rushed into rekindling a friendship with your brother just to rush into a relationship with you? I had to ease in. Infiltrate the family; make myself a staple in your home so I could learn more about you.

There’s no one else better suited for you than me, baby. There is no one that will anticipate your needs like I can. Take care of you like I will. I’m going to make my move… I just need a little more time. I don’t want to lose the part of you that I get to see when you don’t know I’m watching.

I tilt back, relaxing into the doorframe of Zach’s office as I wait for you to stop by with his lunch. You’re so sweet. I know you’re cuttin’ it close with you’re next class. Fuck, my girl’s thoughtful. I smile to myself, lowering my head to not bring too much attention to myself.

“Who’s got you smilin’ like that, buddy?”

Shit. I look down at the phone, thumbing out of your Instagram, moving to Tinder. “Uh, I just matched with that bartender at Lord Fletchers. I think,” I mumble, giving him a slight smile.

“Juliette?” He asks surprisedly. “Isn’t she datin’ the head football coach?”

My stomach sinks, caught in a simple, stupid lie. “Nah, not her. A different one. I don’t know,” I brush him off, furthering my disinterest by pretending to swipe through some more.

Oh, shit. Here you come. I lift my eyes, matching yours. Your smile doubles as I catch your attention. “Hi, Rafe,” you sing. My name rolling off your lips so sweetly. Oh my god.

“Hi, y/n,” I respond warmly. Your hand snakes around my waist, squeezing me. “You ready for that test tomorrow?”

You sucks your teeth and shake your head. “Not ready enough to go on a date tonight, I don’t think. But I haven’t gone out in so long… I think it would be good for me to give my brain a rest the night before, don’t you?” You ask as your stunning eyes soften on mine, looking up at me for approval as I try my best not to fall apart in front of you or, at the very least, lose my shit. How did I miss this?

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I press the words past my lips. You smile and nod before setting the food down on the desk. “Well, I gotta run-”

”See you tonight?” I add hastily, trying to get more info about your plans just in case.

“We got that intramural basketball game tonight,” Zach reminds me, making my palms sweat just knowing that if the date is early enough, I won’t be able to tag along or intervene.

“Chett said 9 PM at Little Angie’s.”

“Chett? As in Chett Ryan?” I ask in disbelief as you mention the star quarterback. A good-looking dude, but he’s a fucking idiot and a Grade-A asshole. You’re way too good for him. He doesn’t deserve you. Doesn’t even deserve to breathe your air-

“Yeah,” you answer through a smile, yanking me out of my thoughts.

“Well, I’m goin’ to Lexi’s house, so you and Chett will have the place to yourselves if you wanna come back after the bar,” Zach chimes in. My body trembles with rage, holding back every urge to crawl over the top of his desk and choke him out for even suggesting it.

“It’s our first date, so I don’t know if that’ll happen but thank you,” you smiles giddily, making me physically ill. ”Shit,” you hiss, your attention pulled to your watch, clocking the time. “I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe, for the test,” you add breathlessly as you race away, fleeing for class.

“You proctoring tests now?” Zach laughs lightly, furrowing his brows.

“Ah, yeah,” I whirr, scratching at my 5 o’clock shadow, trying to find an excuse while also trying to gather my emotions as my whole world crumbles around me. “I-I owed Steve a favor for covering my class last week,” I stutter, confessing half the truth. Sure, Steve subbed for me, but only so I could follow y/n on her trip to Georgia Tech for the football game to ensure she was safe… Zach should be thanking me, honestly. Fuck off. The football game… I bite at the skin on my lip, putting together the pieces of why you had even gone in the first place. For him. For Chett… No, baby. Why?

“Cameron?” Zach chimes in. “You’re a little more dazed than usual, friend. You good?” He asks through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, man. I’m good,” I nod. “It’s only a few hours.”

“What?” Zach asks confusedly.

“Proctoring…”

”Yeah…” He nods, his face laced with concern for me; I don’t even know how long I was drowning in my thoughts of her. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s going through my mind— why I’m acting weird. “You sure you're good? You seem upset.”

”Nah, man. I’m good. Just have some shit goin’ on I need to take care of,” I smile softly. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah… See you tonight, brother.”

“These are nice,” I breathe as I run my fingers along the pink petals with a smile, the spray of roses sitting pretty amongst the rest. “These, thanks.” I pull them out, handing them to the attendant, finishing into my back pocket for my wallet.

I head out the door, walking out onto the street; the busy college town teaming with students, pouring in and out of the bars. Cigarette smoke wafts all around, competing with the aroma of the late-night food trucks. I look ahead, catching the Little Angie’s neon boot sign kicking ahead. My excitement builds as I get closer and closer. You’re here. I look down at my phone, catching your location in the heart of the bar—my girl.

Shit. I look down at my other hand, tossing the wildflowers Chett had gotten you. He doesn’t know you at all… He doesn't know what you like. He doesn't deserve you. No one does. No one but me.

I push through the front door, heading back toward the bar as I match your pin to my surroundings. My eyes pull taunt as I try to spot you through the thick crowd. I take a seat, ordering a beer before turning my attention back to the search. My eyes work across the low-lit room, scouring for you. I can’t believe you’re still here after he stood you up. It’s almost like you knew I’d come and save you, princess.

There you are. Fuck, are you even real?

When I’m around you I swear I forget how to breathe. I find myself having to tear myself away—telling myself that staring too hard will do nothing but bring attention to the obvious, but I am so in love. How do I even look away? You’re perfect.

You looks sad. I know that’s my fault, pretty girl, but I promise I’ll make it all better. You rest your cheek in your hand, slumped over in your seat, swirling your vodka cranberry defeatedly. Your beautiful eyes glisten. I can’t tell if it’s just sheer beauty or if they might be glossed with tears. Your eyes shut heavily, shoulders relaxing a little more as you submit to your drunken state.

Oh, sweetheart. You need me.

“Can I close out my tab?” I ask the bartender, who gives me a little nod and a smile. I turn my attention back to you, watching as you sway ever so slightly with the music pouring from the speakers.

“Here you are, sir,” the bartender calls. I turn fast, scribbling a tip and a total. My stomach falls as I pull my hand away, leaving behind a red thumbprint, remnants of my run-in with Chett lingering. Fuck. I grab the slip of paper off the bar top, brushing my hand along my dark-wash jeans, thumbing through my wallet to grab some cash instead, tossing a tip on the counter in exchange. I push off the bar, walking toward my girl, checking myself as best as I can in the darkness to make sure that I don’t miss anything else, catching a few specks of blood on my white shirt. Shit. I grab the zipper of my quilted jacket, hiding the mess.

What was I thinking? I was so excited about gettin’ to you that I didn’t even think about cleanin’ up. I look down at my right hand: split knuckles, bloodied and bruised. I tug down my sleeve, just praying there isn’t any more I can’t see. “Y/n?”

Your eyes lift to mine, softening and welling with tears. “Rafey,” you slur out a whimper, eyes pinching shut. Your tears tumble down your cheeks as you try to get out your next few words to no avail.

”What’s goin’ on, princess?” I ask gently as I sit beside you, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“Ugh…” You humpfs. “I got stood up.” You hiccup before rolling your eyes in annoyance with Chett and your own emotions. “I can’t believe I’m even cryin’ over him, Rafey. I know he’s an asshole.” You cry, making my heart melt as you use that little nickname not once but twice.

“He is,” I laugh lightly, making you nod and sigh.

“Are you… M’shit. I’m sorry,” you mumble. “M’kinda drunk.”

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright,” I coo.

“Are you meeting a date?” You ask, and I swear I can see a new sort of sadness in your eyes at the idea of it. I follow your gaze, eyeing the arrangement of roses in my hand.

“Oh, me?” I stall. “Uh… No. I-uh… I came in here after our game. I saw you hangin’ out here for a while. Kinda put two-and-two together. N’when I went outside to have a cig, I bought them off some guy on the street.” I look back to you, my whole story all for not as you practically fall asleep at the table, your beautiful face propped up and smushed in your hand. “Bought them for you, honey,” I sigh blissfully as I use a pet name I've always wanted to use knowing tomorrow it wouldn't matter.

“Thank you, Rafey,” you whisper. Three times… “So - So… So good to me.”

“Let’s get you outta here. Huh?” I ask as I reach into my wallet, pulling out a hundred, tossing it on the table. You close your eyes and nod your heavy head.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” I breathe as I scoop my hand around your waist, lifting you to your feet. You melt into me, resting your head on my chest, snuggling in. I can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss on your hair. I breathe you in, relishing this simple moment with you. “I love you, princess…” You look up at me, smiling sweetly. I hold my breath, even if you heard me say that there’s no way you’ll remember tomorrow. But still…

“Can we get pizza?” You ask, making me laugh.

“Anything you want you get, sweetheart.”

I know there’s nothing more to worry about, but I can’t help but get a little jealous knowing you dressed this way for Chett. You sway to the music on your record player, drunkenly singing along to the track between bites of pizza. You’re happier than when you were at the bar; your sadness before I came is long gone. You flash me a smile, setting my heart ablaze, pointing at me playfully as you circle your hips to the beat, dropping it to the floor, showing me the perfect glimpse of your plump ass. Fuck me. I bare with the pain, not wanting to make it blatantly obvious that my cock is strained in my pants.

“Help me?” You pout as you walk to me, lifting your hands in the air.

”With what…” My voice trails away as you step even closer. Your tits line up with my eyes from my seated position on the foot of your bed. My hands instinctively reach up, resting on your hips, testing the waters.

“Pajamas.”

“Oh - Oh. Of course,” I stammer as I lift your shift dress over your head. I hold back a moan, my head and mind racing out of control as I stand this close to you, the girl of my dreams in nothing but your bra and panties. And not just any panties, the panties I had taken from you last week. The panties I had wrapped around my cock that I had cum all over more times than I could count. Of course, I washed them and put them back, but what luck. It’s fate. Just stay calm.

You lets out a sleepy little yawn, stretching slightly, your back arching. Your cleavage pops a little more against the dainty lace; my eyes strain as I refuse to blink. I run my hand down your side, watching as goosebumps spread across your bare skin at my touch. Your nipples peak, teasing me under the barely-there fabric.

Help her, Rafe. I swallow hard, focusing on the task at hand, fighting back everything that I want to do. You move a little closer, slotting yourself between my thighs. I know it will be over if I look up and match your eyes. You’ll be too embarrassed in the morning if I do anything more—if I do what I need. I can feel your eyes on me. Your hand moves higher and higher, your soft touch cupping my chin, guiding my eyes to yours.

Holy shit. You smile down at me, your eyes hazed with lust and liquor. You run your thumb along my bottom lip, biting your own. I’m dreaming. I have to be. “Thank you,” you smile, your voice coming out so crisp and clear. This is no dream… This is just heaven on earth. Deep breath. Help her get into her pajamas and let her sleep it off. Tomorrow. If she genuinely wants me now, she’ll want me tomorrow. She needs me. Her trust is in me. I can’t mess this up. I need her too badly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” I whisper, allowing myself to drink you in a little more. I mean, I don’t want you to think I am not thoroughly enjoying this… This is the best moment of my life. Of course, after meeting her, that is.

I reach over on the bed, grabbing your satin pajama top. You take a little breath, going to say something, holding back, settling on a smile instead. I bet you were gonna ask for something from me. Probably wanting me to take off that pretty little bra of yours instead of giving her clothes to put on. I want to be your knight in shining armor tonight. I want to protect you; I want to keep you safe.

Tomorrow night, princess. I promise.

I’m addicted. I’m down bad. I’m in way, way too deep, but I can’t stop. I’ll never stop. You have no clue what you do to me. You have no idea how much time I have invested in you— in us. I have never been more fulfilled, princess. This is my destiny. You are mine; you just don’t know it yet…

You smile at me sheepishly, tucking some hair behind your ear before putting pen to paper and checking in for your test. You're hungover. I can tell—dark circles painted under your beautiful eyes, and the usual soft glow of your skin dimmed. You’re smart… You’ll have no problem taking this test, and if you do, it’s nothing I can’t fix for you.

You walk over to a locker, stripping off your purse and jacket, checking your phone before stuffing it inside as well. Holy shit… You shut the door, forgoing the lock altogether. Fuck, you’re too good to me, sweetheart. I’m sure you want me to take a peek. Don’t you? A smirk tugs on my lips, arms crossing over my chest as I stare you down.

You stride toward me, shoulders slumped. I’m sure you’re gonna apologize. I smile at you, wordlessly telling you I know what you’ll will say. You laugh weakly, letting out a deep, self-deprecating sigh. “Sorry about last night, Rafe. Thank you,” you smile sweetly, your voice just above a hush, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“You’re alright, Y/n. Glad I could get you home. Are you feelin’ alright?” I ask as I step a little closer.

“M’a little hungover,” you sigh. “I—I never get like that, I swear-”

“I know you don’t,” I stop you. Your brows rumple, my tone a little more knowing than you expected. ”Your brother mentioned you don’t really drink like that,” I correct myself, and you smile.

“Well, I’ll see you later, Rafe. Thank you.” You reach out, giving my bicep a squeeze that has my eyes darting to your hand on me. Oh fuck. You're walking toward the testing room before I can look up at you again. The door fans shut behind you, leaving me alone with the equivalent of your fuckin’ teenage diary. Everything I could want to know about you that I don’t know yet is on here. Please be unlocked.

“Shit,” I hiss, slamming my fist against the locker, eyes darting around fast as the sharp sting of regret pierces through me at my outburst. Pull it together, Cameron. I close my eyes, doing my best to compose myself as I tuck your phone at my side, walking back toward the desk. I look at you through the privacy glass. My girl is none the wiser—I smile as you answer the next question. Her birthday. Keep it simple. That's gotta be it. It’s not like she's got shit to hide.

I type in the six-digit code, my tension melting away; shoulders relaxing as I crack the code without any effort at all. Gotta hit the big four: messages, search history, pictures, Instagram. Don't get too greedy. I feel my cock twitch at the thought of this being in your hand. My mind instantly sails away to the shit you looks at that you’d probably delete your search history for. Hopefully, I caught you on an off day. Focus. Focus. Focus. I look over my shoulder as you breeze past the next question.

Messages, first.

Nothing crazy. A few to her friends, her brother, and a lab partner. My blood turns cold as I see Chett’s name. I click into your messages, teeth grinding, fist clenching as I read through the exchange.

Chett: you free tonight?

Y/n: I have a huge test tomorrow I'm sorry! Friday?

Chett: yeah we can do something on Friday too

Chett: cmon pretty. I owe you a beer

Y/n: just a beer? 😉

Chett: fuck… that's a yes?? Lets go to dinner then I owe you so so much

Y/n: I can't be out late tho

Chett: I know. I got you. I'm lucky ok. I know how you are.

Y/n: what does that mean?? 😂

Chett: your a good girl

Chett: i’ll meet you a little angies at 8. I've got workouts late ok??

Y/n: okay 💕

Chett: you better not stand me up

Y/n: never ☺️

Chett: on my way

Y/n: I'm at the bar

Y/n: found a table. We still on for 8?

Y/n: ???

Y/n: are you okay?

Y/n: just ran into your buddies. They said you ran into Kenzie on the street. Just fuck off alright? Why would you ask me out if you two were still a thing?

Y/n: I knew you were an asshole

Okay. Okay. Shit. My hands tremble as I read and reread your words. Just a clusterfuck of feelings seeing you this excited, this angry; this upset over that asshole. He ran into Kenzie? I'm sure they caught up. I'm sure he had second thoughts about your date. About you? How could someone have second thoughts about you? I knew I did you a favor.

I click into the search history. Cleared. God damnit. That leaves two more pieces to the puzzle. Instagram and pictures. I pull up your socials, thumbing to the shit only I get to see. The DMs are the same as your texts; it's nothing crazy. Search bar… I click into it, seeing your recent searches. Chett… You motherfucker. Haunting me, you goddamn dick- Oh…

Rafe Cameron

I blink a few times, pinching my eyes closed before fluttering them open as I see MY name on YOUR screen. “No fucking way,” my voice comes out needy and hoarse, cracking with all the want I feel for you. I gasp for a breath, filling my lungs with needed air. How is this happening? I rub my hand across my mouth, snuffing out my smile. Jesus Christ. Best day of my fuckin’ life.

I look over my shoulder, praying I have enough time to browse your hidden folder in your camera roll. Five questions left. I open the folder, my hand instantly reaching for the edge of the desk, my rock-hard cock finally giving way as I cum in my slacks at the sight of you in lingerie. My heart pounds in my ears and chest as I thumb through the rest, watching in horror as a wet, warm spot forms on my khakis. Fuck. There’s five more pictures… My goddess. My fuckin’ princess… Look at you, baby. Two more questions left. Put the fuckin’ phone back, Rafe. The phone trembles as I unhide all five, moving quickly to your messages before typing in my number, sending them to myself, deleting everything fast. I swear I could’ve cum again just feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, knowing what I have saved for myself.

I swipe everything closed as I walk back to the locker bay, stuffing the phone inside your purse, slamming the door shut before the testing door swings open. I turn my body away, walking toward the exit, checking on a knock that never happened; turning my body in the opposite direction before matching your eyes. “So, how did it go?” I smile, positioning myself so you can’t see the absolute mess you caused.

“Good, actually,” you sighs, relief laced in your tone and demeanor as you pop open your locker. I step behind the desk, leaning into the counter just enough to ensure that my little secret is safe.

Good girl.

I swear I can’t go to bed without my nightly ritual; I stand outside your window, hidden just out of view, cloaked in the darkness of the hedges gathered around the perimeter of your apartment. Some nights I have the pleasure of being in your space; other nights, I settle for the next best thing, but honestly, even here is paradise.

Some nights, you stay up late, the apples of your cheeks glowing in the dim of your room as you browse your phone; other nights, you moves through your apartment chatting on the phone with your friends, smiling and laughing, every fiber of my being just wishing it was me on the other line. But on special nights, nights like this, your hand slips into your night stand pulling out your favorite vibrator, playing with your pussy like I could only dream of doing.

I never get to see what goes on underneath the covers or hear the sweet noises you make, but I get to see the pleasure painted all over your face. I can’t help but pull my cock out of my pants, stroke my dick while you work on yourself. Are you thinking about me? I always dreamed you were, but after seeing your search history, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. What if you're saying my name? My beautiful girl.

“Fuck, baby,” I pant as you grab the covers, throwing them off your body, my precum mixing with my sweaty palm as I take in the sight before me. I watch as the silicon cock glistens with your slick, making me spit on my dick to mirror the sight. My fist works over my dick, whimpering and moaning your name as I keep your pace. My thigh muscles tremble as I fixate on your every movement.

I know I should walk away, but there’s no force on this earth strong enough to pull me away from this. I bite my lip as you throw your head back into your pillow, back arching off the mattress.

And just like that, I fall deeper and deeper into my mind. “Where are we fuckin’ tonight, princess?” I mumble, envisioning us in the same room. “My office? Fuck, you’re bad, sweetheart? You sure? Sure you can’t wait until we get home? God damn, angel. You need it that bad? Need daddy’s dick right here, right now?” I moan as my muscles clench tight.

I swear I draw blood, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as you drag your hand up, pulling your shirt with it, exposing your perfect breasts. You squeeze and twist your nipple, circling softly just like I would. “My lips will be on you, I swear to Christ,” I moan, picturing my parted lips sucking down on your tits; catching your breasts in my mouth as they bounce.

“Stop hidin’, honey,” I grunt as your legs draw closer, and I swear you heard me because your thighs widen on the mattress, splaying out for me and only me. What I wouldn't pay to bury myself in your cunt, princess. I’ve sucked on your panties more times than I can count; memorized your taste. I need the real thing. I wanna feel the warmth of your body against me, tongue pumping in and out of that tight little hole of yours.

Your mouth falls open, chest heaving, muffled cries heard through the glass. Just a whisper, but my ears have never been more blessed. I look down at my cock for a split second, just enough time to run some spit down on my throbbing head, making me hiss out a breath. I make a tight fist, imagining myself sinking into your slick pussy as you lay on a pile of my class papers, a little pleated skirt riding up around your waist, your wet cunt just begging for me to fill it, sucking me in.

“Such a sloppy cunt. Fuck… Perfect for me,” I mutter, returning my eyes to you, watching as your arousal leaks out of your pussy as you continue to stroke, dirtying the sheets below. I run my hand across my sweaty forehead, slicking back my bangs in the process, switching my hold to my balls to play with them, trying desperately to cum with you for your second time. “Slow down, Y/n… Shittt. Pussy’s too good. You wanna come with daddy. Don't you? Yeah you do. Atta baby.”

Another muffled moan bleeds through the glass. I need to hear you. Fuck, I need to know what you sound like. I release my cock with a panting gasp, fumbling for the glass, resting my clammy palms against it as I hold my breath, cracking it ever so slightly. There we go. I move even closer, resting a hand on the brick wall, eyes rolling back in my skull as I wrap my fingers around my girthy dick again.

“Rafe…” She pants, and my eyes double, stomach falling, breath fleeing my chest, drowning in my own pleasure as my name leaves your lips. Say it again. Fucking say it, baby. Tears of joy fill my eyes as warmth spreads from my head to my toes.

I listen closely, catching the sounds of your sopping core squelching through your room, cries and sighs of pleasure coming back to back as I bite my shirt, holding back my own. “Just like that, Rafey. Fuckkk, daddy. I’m cumming,” you cry in a throaty, fucked-out voice that has me cumming harder than I ever have in my life, ropes, and ropes of cum painting the brick wall of your apartment building as I watch your finish.

I look down in exhaustion as my cum rolls down the wall, before closing my eyes in utter bliss, just imagining it leaking out of your cunt. My goddamn pussy. “Tomorrow-” I pant as I lift my trembling hand, pointing my cum-coated finger against the glass with a smug smile that I wish you could see. “M’taking you out and then we’re comin’ back here and I’m going to make every one of your fantasies come true, honey. M’gonna be all you need. I swear,” I coo.

I watch you as you lay there, hands trailing your beautiful body, calming yourself down with touch. You're lonely, baby. You don't need to be… Let me take care of you. You let out a sleepy yawn, stretching out on the mattress.

“Fuck,” I grumble, post-nut clarity setting in as I realize what the fuck I just did, regretting none of it, just hoping that someone didn’t see me. The street is empty. Just perfect. I grab my boxers, pulling them up as you tuck your toy into your nightstand, fastening my pants as you snuggle into your sheets.

No.

Your eyes lock with mine, and with that, time stands still. My heart hammers in my chest as your expression changes from confusion to terror. You let out a blood-curdling scream as I try to pull myself away, but I’m frozen with fear. Run. Fuck! You fumble for your phone as I walk away from the window, my eyes never leaving you until I’m falling back on the curb, struggling to my feet, sprinting as fast as my feet will take me.

“I’ve ruined everything. What the hell have I done?” My heart shatters into a million pieces as I run down the block, charging toward my car as I fight my keys out of my pocket. Tears and snot wet my face, my whole body sheened with sweat, shivering with adrenaline. ”Not only am I going to lose her, but I’m gonna lose everything else. My job. My reputation. Everything. Fucking everything.” I slam my finger against the keyless start; engine roaring as I peel out onto the street, trying to put distance between me and you.

What the hell can I say to make this better? No one will understand. I can’t fucking help it. I can’t help who I am. I can’t help that I love you. That I want to keep you safe. Is that a crime? I’m obsessed with you. It’s like— I think about you all the time. Every second of my fucking life. But isn’t that what love should be like?

I let out a shaky breath, catching my reflection in the rearview mirror, my cheeks soaked with tears, eyes glassy with emotion. If I can’t have you, I don’t want to live. I don’t… I-I can’t. My foot slams on the gas, barreling down the freeway toward the bridge, watching as the needle on the speedometer climbs higher and higher as cars swerve and dart out of my path.

What is the point if I can’t have you?

I’m nothing without you.

My knuckles ghost white, as I blink the tears out of my eyes, sobbing like a child as the speedometer blasts past 100. I feel the dismare in my heaving chest plaguing me like a virus, the only warmth in my heart gone now that I’ve lost you. Just fucking empty—goddamn hollow. The only thing I’ve ever truly wanted is gone. You were the best thing that has ever been mine and I didn’t even get to tell you… I lift my hand to wipe away the tears as the road blurs before me.

Days of watching you, not one moment forgotten. I was almost a part of your world. Why did I wait so long? Why did I wait until it was too late? You were saying my name? You wanted me just as bad as I wanted you…

The world around me gets a little brighter as I pull onto the bridge, illuminated with streetlamps, before the world dives off into the dark waters below.

What if she feels guilt? What if she blames herself? What if this ruins hers too?

I thread through the gap of cars, vehicles slamming on their breaks around me, unable to swerve on the bridge like they were on the road before making every move sharper; more erratic—the line thinning, between life and death.

Maybe she’ll forgive me after I’m dead…

RING. RING. RING.

I look down at my phone, seeing your brother's name light up the screen. “Hello?” I choke the word out, biting my lips to hold back my sniffles and sobs as I speed closer and closer to the edge, waiting for him to blow out my speakers. ‘ASSHOLE. PERV. STALKER. PSYCHOPATH-’

“Hey, Rafe. You good, man?” He asks worriedly, his gentle voice pulling me out of the pit. My foot pulls off the glass as I’m hit with a sliver of hope, before slamming on the breaks. My tires screech as my car skids across the bridge, stomach falling as I get so close to the edge that the grille of my Cadillac kisses the guardrail, nothing but blackness and open water before me.

“M’Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

You dive into my arms, hands wrapped tightly around my waist as you bury your head in my chest. Your warm, wet tears soak through my shirt, blessing my skin as I hold you close. “Thank you so much for coming, Rafe,” you sniffle.

“Of course, Y/n,” I whisper as you tremble in my arms like a leaf. “Did you get a good look at him?”

You shake your head, letting out a frail little sigh. “No…”

“Go inside. Aight? You’ve been through enough. Let me check it out. I’ll be in in a second. Okay?” You nod, looking up at me with doe-eyes and a trembling lip. I cup your tear stained cheek in my hand, brushing your skin nice and soft. You tilt into me, needing me closer. “I’m sorry you went through this… But, it’s just some creep. I’m not gonna leave you tonight. I swear.”

“Thank you,” you whimper.

“‘Course, sweetheart.”

“Now, you, get inside and try to relax. Huh? It’ll only take me a second.” You nod and step inside, holding my hand until the last moment.

I walk down the stairs, strolling through the landscaping to your window. I suck my teeth, looking down at the stained brick before lifting my hand, running my thumb along my tongue, scrubbing the little cum mark I left with my finger. “All clear,” I whisper, smiling to myself as my night takes a turn for the better.

I walk up your steps, stepping into the apartment as you pour a glass of wine for you and I. “Thank you, Rafe. I’m so glad you’re here,” you smile, your voice weak as you walk toward me in your satin pajamas, passing me a glass.

“Call me anytime you need me. Okay?” I smile as I reach my hand out for you. You tangle your fingers in mine, moving a little closer, rising on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss on my cheek.

The two of us walk over to the couch, taking a seat. You snuggle into my chest just like you did at the bar. Your body relaxes in mine. The adrenaline and excitement of the night wears off fast, and it’s not long before your eyes start to beat closed. I don’t think I can sleep. I don’t want to. Truthfully, I could stay this way forever with you. Your soft sounds fill my ears as I focus on your breathing and the shape of your body in mine. I couldn’t dream of a more perfect moment with you, sweetheart. My girl. Mine. A satisfied smile plays on my lips as I reach over, flicking on the evening news.

“Hello, my name is Belle Lee, reporting live from the downtown district. An investigation is underway after a University student was found dead with multiple gunshot wounds. College officials have identified the victim as 22-year-old Chett Lee from Tampa Bay, Florida. This is an active investigation. Any tips or other information can be directed to the local authorities. Currently, there are no known suspects in this gruesome murder.”

A smirk pulls on my lips as I flick off the TV, darkness falling all around us. I lift you into my arms, holding you close, walking you to your room before setting you down on the mattress. I rub my thumb across you pillowy lips, not wanting to push it too far by kissing you goodnight. My belly stirs as I think about the cum I had just cleaned off the glass, any reminents now hanging on your perfect lips.

I’ll just have to settle for that tonight.

I stroke your hair gently, brushing it off your beautiful face. Just leave, Rafe… Just—I succumb to my urges, kissing your forehead instead, lingering as long as I possibly can before pulling away. Your eyes match mine, staring up at me.

“Stay.”

@nadvs it was so amazing brainstorming with you. I am such a fan of your work and you are such an amazing person 💕 thank you babe 😭.

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, it was not pulling up an account): @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @cl4uus @theeternaloptimistt @starkeysprincess @gri959 @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @aariahnaa@pinkqutz @hyperfixationgirl @akobx @daryldixon83 @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii @oxpogues4lifexo @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @savayvayblr-blog @unrealmirrorball @romaescapes @cades-outsider @ch4rrykisses @namelesslosers @anamiad00msday @buckybarnessweetheart @floredaqueen

[tedgensisreal]

OOC. Waving at you hello there

hai! :D

[ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow]

Hallo!! My names Meekie (and Mal and Gene and Zach but my main is Meekie)

Im 13 years of age (if thats uncomfy with u,thats kewl)

Im into:

Starkid

TCB

A midsummers night dream

Curt mega

The 25th anual putnam county spelling bee

My rp accounts are:

@the-better-lipschitz

@w1lk0men

@the-alive-workin-boy

@the-writing-man

@madonnas-no1-fan

@not-a-british-spy

My fav moots are:

@theguywhodidlikemusicals2300

@gyldencikade-namnam

@biologyologyy

@otherseb

@thejagerman2024

Thats it

[lunarmoonheart]

HFFF day 4: date night

summary: steph and ruth on a date at the starlight and miss retros

title: i have a dream (and part of its right infront of me) ship: ruthanie prompt: date night

Ruth was sitting infront of her mirror. She was going on another date with steph tonight to the starlight theater. It was some new show called workin boys. Honestly it sounds like a show about strippers but ruth doesnt care. Shes just waiting for steph to come pick her up. She loves steph so much. How could she not steph is smart, funny, kind, fucking hot, and confident. Ruth didn't think of herself as any of those things but steph insisted she was.

Ruth looks out her window when she hears a car horn. She sees steph waving to her from her car. Ruth bolts down the stairs almost tripping when she runs out the door. Steph meets her on the driveway picking her up and hugging her. Ruth giggles kissing steph on the cheek. They get in the car and drive to the starlight theater. Chatting about their days and stealing glances at each other.

When they pull into the parking lot steph gets the car door for ruth.

“Mlady.”

“Why thank you good sir.” they both laugh. 

Walking into the theater they find there seats. Watching all the other audience members as they come in. steph chats with brenda and stacy for a minute. Ruth says a quick hello to bill and ted. They watch as linda murray and becky barnes walk in hand in hand. ruth notices miss mulberry on the other side of the theater with a cop and starts gossiping with steph about it. A few minutes later the lights dim and the show starts. The whole time ruths eyes are glued to the stage bright with her love for theater. Steph isnt really enjoying the show but shes glad ruth is happy.

After the show steph and ruth file out of the theater. Ruth is gushing about the show all the way to the car. Steph listens happy that ruths happy.

“So what do you wanna do now ruth?”

“Uh we could go to miss retros. I really like it there miss holloway is so nice.”

“Sounds good ruthie.”

They drive to miss retros. Ruths favorite diner ever mostly because she loves miss holloway. When they walk in miss holloway greats them with a smile.

“Heya darling! How was your date?”

“Heya miss holloway! Its going well.”

“Thats great ruth. This must be the legendary steph.” miss holloway holds her hand out smiling at steph.

“Uh yeah thats me. Nice to meet you.” steph shakes her hand. This lady seems pretty cool.

They chat with miss holloway for a few more minutes. Ruth tells steph all about miss holloway before they go sit down in ruths usual booth. They order some dinner and milkshakes. 

“Thanks for taking me to that show steph. It was so fun!”

“Im glad you enjoyed it babe.”

“That zach guy was so impressive! I wish i was half as good as him.”

“Ruth your ten times better than him. I'd rather watch you than any show.” Ruth blushes taking a sip of her milkshake.

“I wanna be on stage someday.”

“What would you wanna be in?”

“Anything really. I'll never make it though.”

“You totally could babe I've heard you sing your amazing! So tell me what's your dream role?”

“Well uh I've always wanted to be zazzalil from firebringer and being anyone in legally blonde or wicked would be amazing.”

“Well if your ever in wicked ill be the glinda to your elphaba.”

“Aw babe thats so sweet. Can we dress as them for halloween?”

“Of course baby.”

@femslashfortnight

[biologyologyy]

Yeah I like Hamilton but….. have you guys heard that its new competition’s in town?

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 16/11/2024 (Myles Smith, Zach Bryan)

To my surprise and also dismay, Gracie Abrams spends a second week at #1 with “That’s So True” and it’s a slow week, enough for Christmas songs to already be climbing up the charts, so I welcome you back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

content warning: references to abuse allegations, suicide, death in the family, sex, trauma

Rundown

As always, we start the episode with this week’s notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 – which is what I cover – after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we bid farewell to “Embrace It” by Ndotz, “Don’t Dream it’s Over” by Crowded House, “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, “Belong Together” by Mark Ambor, “Scared to Start” by Michael Macagi, and in a bizarre twist of fate, two arbitrary UK chart rules that I don’t need to explain at this point combine to do a switcheroo wherein Charli xcx’s “Apple” and “360” – remixed with The Japanese House, and Yung Lean and Robyn, respectively, not that it matters much in this case – have been replaced on the chart by other BRAT songs, namely “365”, remixed by Shygirl, at #63, and “Guess”, remixed with Billie Eilish, who is actually credited by the Official Charts Company, at #61.

As for our other gains and returns, well, let’s start festively. From now on, I am going to abide by the rules I leave for Christmastime wherein I will not discuss all of the Christmas gains. This can be over 40 songs on the chart gaining eventually! Since… insert year here, I’ve only been writing down the three highest-charting Christmas songs and any returns that particular week which, whilst not solving the entire problem with the tedium of naming the same Christmas canon each year, is still decently accurate to describing what’s actually important. Usually, I will also eschew this rule for new Christmas songs, but this doesn’t matter – yet – this year, and honestly none of this may matter this week because, by a hair considering what’s at #76, we only have two gains: “Last Christmas” by Wham! at #43 and “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey at #38.

Now for our… secular gains and returns. Other than Charli, we have a return for RAYE’s “Oscar Winning Tears.” at a new peak of #52, and ironically, the other return is a #72, that being Gunna’s “on one tonight”, that reached a peak earlier this year of, well, #52. Then we see some boosts for “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls at #59, “Indestructible” by Andy C and Becky Hill at #56, “The Days” by Chrystal at #39, “Austin (Boots Stop Workin’)” by Dasha at #37, everyone’s favourite Christmas song “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan at #32, “Close to You” by Gracie Abrams at #31, “NIGHTS LIKE THIS” by The Kid LAROI at #30, “Stargazing” by Myles Smith at #24 (more on him later), “labour” by Paris Paloma getting a political spike up to #22, “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone at #18, “Timeless” by The Weeknd and Playboi Carti at #15, “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” by Billie Eilish at #13, and Teddy Swims grabbing his third top 10 with “Bad Dreams” at #8… though something green and covered in baubles tells me that all of this is temporary.

Now, the UK Singles Chart top five starts with a good gain for a great song, that being “The Door” by Teddy Swims reaching a new peak of #5, right below “HOT TO GO!” by Chappell Roan up to #4 and the top three not changing at all: we have “APT.” by ROSÉ and Bruno Mars at #3, “Sailor Song” by Gigi Perez at #2 and the aforementioned song by Abrams at the very top. Now to look through our small but definitely intriguing set of newly-charting songs.

New Entries

#74 – “PUSH 2 START” – Tyla

Produced by Sammy Soso

We start our week with Tyla, a South African singer flushed into bonafide superstar status after her breakout hit “Water”, pushing this new track from the deluxe edition of her debut album. Largely sticking to the Afropiano style, this starts with some of her lightest cooing against a backdrop of sliding guitars and rattling percussion that never fully kicks into being too busy, instead implementing a sick, warm bass into the chorus that balances the intimacy of sex with her unsubtle and strict manner of matchmaking, wherein you have to “earn” and “deserve” her attention, with the gang vocals in the chorus and crowd backing her layers of harmonies in the post-chorus perfectly displaying that public-private split. The way the choir balances the melody in the second verse almost reminds me of how Tyler, the Creator would write and layer a vocal melody, and it really struck me as something that could have been developed upon more into a rising, cinematic bridge instead of lamely slumping back into the pre-chorus. Either way, the song has a lot of promising elements but feels like it misses the mark in feeling complete and entirely selling the competitive and sexually dominant angle, especially since whilst not weak, Tyla’s vocals are absolutely overshadowed by the sheer propensity of her backing choir. It’s still a good song, just could have easily become great with a real bridge propelling it, or even a third verse from a male (or female!) artist trying to get with Tyla – that could be a great idea for a remix. Get a guy like Rema or Fireboy to play the flailing, half-convincing tough lover boy angle and see if he can shoot his shot with her to engage further with the song’s framing, it could really be something. As it is, it’s definitely not a blemish on that debut album, which I did very much enjoy, so I still can’t complain, just wish for more.

#73 – “This World’s a Giant” – Zach Bryan

Produced by Zach Bryan

Covering Zach Bryan’s new songs may come with unique challenges. Recently, allegations from his ex-girlfriend Brianna came out alleging him of emotional abuse that Bryan has not exactly been quick to deny, instead being largely silent outside of a new duo of songs that we’ll cover this week, that have some significance but considering the sheer amount that he produces and releases, it can be difficult to really connect the two as anything but coincidental timing… at least practically. Thematically, it’s almost blatant, though perhaps unintentionally. Bryan sings about a fear of “the world”, referring both to the public and the sheer size of humanity, and the process of living through that world and how many responsibilities one has, especially for family. In particular, Bryan is focused on redemption: he longs to take advantage of nice weather and his partner’s good mood to save value in his own life, and looks to repenting to God – notably, instead of those he’s wronged – to start anew. The production and instrumentation is similarly domestic, with barebones acoustic and very distant horns as well as a shoddy vocal recording fitting of the lo-fi piano. There are actually a somewhat misleading amount of layers to this song: the horns are prominent and consistent throughout the verses, which strikes me as really interesting considering how muffled they are, with the mixing restricting any part of the song from really standing out, apart from perhaps the female backing vocals joining in for select lines, now a tradition of Bryan’s music.

What will stand out to most, of course, are the lyrics, which have a contradictory view of Bryan’s obligations: he’s beholden to no-one, but he emphasises how those who he is actually beholden to such as “the kids” (referring to the hypothetical children Bryan references having in the first verse) are the driving force towards him actually doing anything and finding his life purposeful, as he would otherwise spend it all asleep. That chorus pits the two ideas against each other: preparing for the future and fighting “the world” no matter how overbearing, for the purpose of others versus taking a selfish approach that rids him of purpose but is the easy way out and more enjoyable in the moment – “breathing in this world is the thief of joy”. Bryan’s suicidal apathy toward overwhelming obligations is worryingly resonant to me, and I love how the first verse shows him finding solace in the echo of his guitar, which almost replaces the need for his words that he can’t yet find the right way to phrase. After the third verse showing the time passing and furthering of the conceit of finding “reasons to go and reasons to stay”, there is a sudden ramping of intensity that can’t hit perfectly well due to the demo-ish quality of the song but I don’t think it intends to, considering how you can barely hear that final chorus. You can hear the heartbeat but not the words and logic behind it, just the feeling and emotional intensity, hampered until the end by domestic life. It’s another brilliant song, but it may not have the legs of…

#66 – “High Road” – Zach Bryan

Produced by Zach Bryan

Once again with constantly doubled-up female vocals, this time mirroring Zach Bryan’s in the mix, this is a much more accessible lead single, with a cleaner mix of cute, catchy acoustics that really remind me of an early 2000s pop rock track, and what appears to be a simple breakup narrative – at least in the first verse – that also reflects the recent news, in that the song documents how small details of his life are haunting reminders of that former relationship, exemplified through his more rural lifestyle and shut-in tendencies compared to the urban references that represent the ex-girlfriend: New York City and its urban decay that he still has a lot of misplaced nostalgia for, Adderall, how he left her jeans in his pick-up truck. There’s a southern gothic piece of imagery in that uncharacteristically infectious chorus, with the ghosts of her residing in the “windows and walls”, which may be about Bryan’s head as much as it is his house, and a looming electric guitar alarming through the post-chorus.

For the second verse, he appears to switch to another woman lost from his life: his late mother. I could even see how one could interpret the entire track as being about his mother, especially considering the tribute he left in regards to this song mentioning how he would discuss porch-swinging with his sister and his friends in New York with his mother. However, personally, I’d like to think that the first verse is left more open and to give a more bitter interpretation of the “ghosts”, who are more inevitable with the death of a loved one but still not accepted in that second chorus: Bryan will often change his choruses to fit a narrative shift but he doesn’t here, showing a uniquely harsh side to losing your parent where they could be some anger there that his mother is not there, but is still watching, still reminding him of his presence through tangible objects he can’t bring himself to revisit. Also, I think the first verse’s mention of Adderall – I don’t like to think he’s talking about his mother’s white-lace bras and leaving her jeans in his truck, particularly – and how it parallels her mother’s addiction to the more obfuscated “bad things” (Bryan using childlike euphemisms to mask reality again here, connecting to the last song’s focus on raising kids). He could be commenting on what kind of woman he connects with and how parts of his mother are seen in those who cared the most about, especially with her not being physically there anymore, so he finds her in other people, but since she’s passed and those relationships are in part based on that connection, they seem destined to fall apart.

I love how the two vocal takes fall out of rhythm with each other in the second verse when discussing how his mother passed from complications relating to her regrettable period in Tulsa; it reminds me almost of Midwest emo tracks with dual vocalists and it accentuates that violent detachment of the drugs having “took [her] brain”, whilst also slipping into the immaturity of not being capable of or refusing to understand the flaws of your parents because of how inevitable it may be that these flaws pass down into your life and complicate it long after they die. Both of these songs are trapped in domestic life and express a certain horror about what’s inside in “High Road” and what’s outside in “This World’s a Giant”. It raises question to me about where Zach Bryan’s “home” is, if he has one, as both spheres of life seem to restrict him outright if not just remind him of suffering that is already thoroughly defining of both himself and his work. This song in particular I think could be a hit if pushed, not that I’m necessarily rooting for him personally to succeed currently, but it will be interesting to see how it sours and impacts previous hits of him – the lovestruck, despite-all-odds serenade of “28” has, through these songs and their paranoid portrayal of the aftermath of marriage, been blurred and given an additional, haunting layer – being “home somehow” no longer fees like a reassurance of loved guidance and safety. I think as I revisit songs I love from Bryan as I often do, different lyrics will stand out from before, both due to these songs and the ongoing silence amidst emotional abuse allegations, and if we take anything away from such a vulnerable singer-songwriter having elements of his life and wrongdoing ironed out in public, it’s that the art changes from it, the art can reveal much more about it, and the art can never be truly separated from it, especially for a guy like Zach Bryan.

#57 – “last night’s mascara” – Griff

Produced by Griff and Sam Tsang

A leftover from Griff’s debut, this song from the English singer-songwriter, who has been charting less than I had hoped or expected when she broke out, focuses on its titular conceit and what it represents: the memories of the night before, how they stay with her until she goes home and purposefully wipes it off, which is framed like an emotional undertaking that reflects her erasing fond memories with significant others. The rumbling warp into a deep bass synth that the song begins with is really striking considering the peaceful Enya song she references, one that repeats the refrain of “sail away”, once again implementing the physical deterioration of makeup into the song’s emotional throughline. “Orinoco Flow” spent three weeks at #1 in 1988, by the way, blocking Kylie Minogue and ironically enough, Milli Vanilli, because time is cyclical. I enjoy the poetic lyrics delivered with a wispy harmony over expected but not very typical 80s synthpop-influenced production that does a lot more with the sound than most of the pastiches you hear, not only through the glitched, bassy beginning but the restless, mechanical percussion that seems to serve more as a clicking nuisance than it does a way to keep in rhythm and time, especially when its industrial contraction is flattened in the mix by its gated, dramatic counterpart in the pre-chorus drum fill, and rendered as an intrusion into the airy blend of synth and vocal in that wonderfully full chorus, somehow completing itself by pumping the mix full of sounds that on their own, would be nothing. Waking up in the morning and rubbing off the mascara seems to not be ridding Griff of any baggage but instead just placing more onto herself, as she pleads with God for those memories of a former partner to be taken from her amidst the process of rubbing it off being a constant reminder of them, an implanting of that now-empty feeling onto her face, entrapping her in association with that person and those memories. The song ends with “Look at me now”, and whether that’s a plea to God to allow for some form of safety or redemption, or an empty threat given to the ex-partner, I’m unsure of, but it’s definitely striking and though I would prefer for the song to have more lyrical detail and less repetition, it feels justified through not just Griff’s incredible vocal intensity here but the spiralling, sometimes jagged nature of the song’s progression (and even simple facts like its genre), that indicate not a one-off experience but something cyclical or at least all too familiar to Griff. I’ve not been over the Moon about her before but this is genuinely an astounding single, I really hope to see more of this narrative integrity and emotional intensity from her in the future, as well as her co-production with Sam Tsang twisting a very familiar and derivative set of sounds into further exploration like this. If you haven’t heard it, please check it out.

#12 – “Nice to Meet You” – Myles Smith

Produced by Myles Smith and Peter Fenn

Okay, let’s do some roleplay. Imagine you’re Myles Smith. You have gained success through honest albeit largely derivative and sometimes frustrating folk-pop music, and have just released your second EP of the year, containing some of those hits including your biggest yet, “Stargazing”. You’re set to debut in the top 15 above worldwide stars in their respective genres like Zach Bryan and Tyla, as well as a fellow British singer-songwriter who broke out a few years back, with your new song. It’s a cute song about putting the worries and responsibilities of life past you and spending a great time with someone you’ve found love at first sight with. How do you already sound this bored? Smith’s vocal take here is odd: it feels like he’s simultaneously trying too hard and straining himself, and not trying at all. The melodies of the song are built for a passionate vocalist, especially with the drifting “oh-oh” present in the verses and pre-choruses essentially granting someone who will have riffs, runs and ad-libs aplenty to take advantage of the empty space and add their own flair. Smith, however, starts the song straining himself to sound like he vaguely cares, over an already generic and programmed stomp-clap instrumental, spends most of the pre-chorus accepting that he doesn’t care, and praying for his life on the chorus that the multi-tracking saves his soul considering just how tired and sick of it he sounds, with the vocal layering and reverb just making him sound even more bored, it sticks out so much more when it’s being elevated without additional effort put in. The song’s not even dead on arrival – I like these lyrics on paper as a cute, escapist hook-up jam, and with some more organic violins or fiddle, this instrumental could be salvaged, which we see the potential for in the post-chorus that I suppose is allegedly a “bridge” but thanks to its brevity and cloudy mix, we never get to fulfil the joy Myles Smith is so opposed to actually expressing in his performance. I understand fame is exhausting, especially for those who have found it all very new and suddenly, but I still beg the question: why would you phone in this song? What reason do you have other than a disdain for your own writing? Much like “Wait for You”, I find with Myles Smith that there are promising songs struck a tonal disservice, and this ends up in that state through sheer laziness so I can’t even grant it the benefit of the doubt. It’s not unlistenable, but to me, I find it frustrating.

Conclusion

It’s a bit of a tough choice given how little this week has given us quantity-wise but how much we have here to chew on lyrically and thematically, to grant a Best of the Week. But Worst of the Week obviously goes to “Nice to Meet You” by Myles Smith, and I think Griff just knocks on the Honourable Mention for “last night’s mascara”, which on any other week could have easily taken that best title but instead, Zach Bryan and his two debuts, “High Road” and “This World’s a Giant”, which act best in a pair so are grouped together here, will take Best of the Week. I know that it’s pretty much inevitable, even with the knowledge of recent allegations, that Zach Bryan will end up getting praised on any week in which he debuts a song, but these may be up there with some of his best. As for what’s on the horizon, we should expect Tate McRae and her boyfriend to both debut songs, impacts from several groups’ new albums (namely Linkin Park and FLO), Sam Fender’s lead single, good news from Shaboozey, a debut solo record from Jin of BTS and Swimmy’s “’bout dat check” with Thomas Rhett so it could be a big week, especially considering Christmas is on the rise and Elton John, d4vd, FKA twigs, Girls Aloud, they could all make kind of surprise entry. I suppose we’ll have to see but for now, thank you for reading, rest in peace to the GOAT Quincy Jones, and I’ll see you next week!

[fluffyzoey]

do you have any headcanons for what Zoey was like as a child/teen? stuff like hobbies, interests, etc? :]] - 🏹

Well yeah! We know she got into theatre w/ Zach in grade 3 due to her Workin’ Girls bio, so there’s that. I think her first show would have been the Wizard of Oz, she was Dorothy’s understudy but just told people she was Dorothy

As a teen she was kind of a “Regina George” type mean girl, or at least tried to be lmaooo she was a bitch and it was very much on purpose!

[tfsroleplay]

He's calling her back-- This about that one prank call she made a few weeks ago. He couldn't get back to her because you know... The guy manages a whole lot of things! At least he's getting back to her, right?

"Lemme guess-- Your brothers told ya to do it, didn't they?" Vio is snickering on the other side of the line. "Don't worry. It's workin' just fine."

@ourple-octoling

"...It was either that or something worse. I chose the lesser of two evils..." Sylvia groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "In less.. embarrassing news, I assume things are going well for you?"

She makes a face, she sounds so robotic... kinda like her mother, she realizes. Well that's an unpleasant thought...

"...I'd ask if you want to hang out, but I'm kinda on babysitting duty at the moment... Not like, Haru and Zach, they can at least behave themselves. I mean I've got a toddler with us at the moment and... yeah."

There's a bit of noise on her side of the line, Zach and Haru's voices briefly calling out a "hello" to Vio before going back to whatever they were doing.

"Deep Cut's having some sort of fan signing so... I got dragged by my brothers to stand in the Splatsville heat for Cod knows how long..."

[scritchingandscratchingonpaper]

"Is this a fairytale, this can't be real

There's fighting all around, they're screwing in the fields

They say that values change when hunger or ambition strikes

Survival is essential, any cost or any price

The cartoon animals on old McDonald's farm are nodding off in hotel rooms with needles in their arms

The seven dwarves, well there's only four alive today

AND CINDERELLA IS WORKIN' FOR THE CIA!"

My main Cyberpunk dnd character, Zach Barker and his brainworm/eldritch parasite Mike... beginning as a joke reference as I'd run out of time before the first session started to make a real character, but over the campaign has ended up developing A Lot and is now occupying my head and truly out of control.

Grumpy and anxious asshole, "human fighter' who is actually so painfully human that it's ended up rubbing off on his parasite: parasite who has gotten very attached to his host, and no longer wants to take over his body and mind.

[thelostfrequency]

What are the voices of your characters since Singer can sing?

That is a wonderful question!

Now, I didn’t originally think about what exactly my characters in this world sounded like, but I’m glad it was brought to my attention to give it some thought. I came up with this just based on singing voices or other things I’ve found that made me feel some sort of resonance with the characters:

Singer - Revel Day

Sombra - Willyecho

Dove - H.E.R.

K9- Zach Callison

I have yet to present the lovely team medic, Dove, but I’m working on something with her that will get everyone acquainted with her as well… she’s surrounded by boys who worry the absolute crap out of her.

K9 has also not been properly introduced yet, though that’s mostly because he has the least development and hasn’t had that much time for said development in comparison to the others. Im workin’ on him though!