#special guest [ dave. ]

[eyesremain]

thanks for the gifts, by the way. kinda funny to see watcher's like you lot celebrating something like valentine's day.

( for dave! )

Valen- IT'S VALENTINES DAY????

[ Dave was shocked, how did he not know?! ]

[badlydrawndashstrider]

grinkles you into a fine jpeg

TT: Hell fucking yes. 

[thena0315]

SVU Guest Star - Michael Hayden in "Angels" [4x06]

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Papa Charlie (2.7, LWT, 1972)

"You realise, of course, that anybody, no matter what their rank or position, anybody who was at that meeting - who had sight of this - is now under suspicion of passing information to that gang, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Someone's working on the inside. Could be anybody. Could even be Sergeant Ward - or perhaps you?"

"No."

"Well, we'll see. I intend to find out who it is. And I'm going to give myself one hour in which to do it."

[almostempty]

self esteem part 3 - kick and scream (joel x f!reader)

wc: 9.3k | masterlist | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 |

previous (part 2) ⎯ next (part 4)

summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).

tags/warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,  

a/n: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration

thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY  @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb

You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe. 

You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice. 

This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question. 

You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling. 

Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes. 

Unsaved number: had a great time with u

Unsaved number: would love to see u again :) 

It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no. 

You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more 

It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not. 

Joel: what you doing?

Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response. 

Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease. 

Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door. 

The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy. 

You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud. 

As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging. 

You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible. 

He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new. 

\\\///

Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right? 

“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type. 

You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach. 

Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees. 

“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason. 

“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance. 

“Good.” 

His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship. 

The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor. 

When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison. 

“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter. 

“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.  

Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes. 

You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire. 

When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious? 

It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.  

You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks. 

Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really? 

Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date? 

Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.

This fucking guy. 

The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here. 

A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look. 

You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different. 

You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.  

You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center. 

The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly. 

“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes! 

“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot. 

Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost. 

“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt. 

You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access. 

“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed. 

Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight. 

“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.” 

His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public. 

When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade. 

Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor. 

“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.” 

“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans. 

He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.  

“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air. 

Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on. 

When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide. 

You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off. 

You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot. 

He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you. 

“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far. 

“Here?” you ask him softly.  

A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress. 

“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you.  He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?” 

“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking. 

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure. 

“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release. 

“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again. 

With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours. 

Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right. 

You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin. 

You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off. 

“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.” 

Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free. 

You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you. 

You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks. 

You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle. 

You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.

He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out. 

“You want to swallow my come?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue. 

“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.” 

Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth. 

Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter. 

“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause. 

“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess. 

“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?” 

He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”

“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out. 

Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door. 

Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text. 

Joel: Miss me? 

It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something. 

Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark. 

A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley. 

“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.” 

“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home. 

The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space. 

“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off. 

“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.

“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you– 

“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare. 

“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat. 

“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now. 

You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him. 

“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.

“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls. 

“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin. 

“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”

“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?” 

It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose? 

You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?” 

“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed? 

“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him. 

“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed. 

Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.” 

A tremor runs through your body. 

It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.

“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in. 

His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons. 

Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you. 

Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear. 

“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.” 

You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway. 

He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers. 

The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel. 

He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw. 

Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic. 

You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street. 

Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up. 

“What did you just say, Joel?” 

“Hmm?” he murmurs at you. 

“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?” 

He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you. 

“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.” 

He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.” 

“Baby–” 

“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud. 

His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention. 

“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?” 

His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.

You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue. 

“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?” 

Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.

His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore. 

He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin. 

“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?” 

You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid. 

You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.  

Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel. 

Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle. 

“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides. 

You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos. 

“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.” 

“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you. 

He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side. 

“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?” 

“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face. 

“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–” 

“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions. 

“Followed us?” you’re curious. 

“When I picked you up. In the truck?”

“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words. 

“An ex?” 

“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.” 

“So he is dangerous?” 

“No.” Only to my self-respect. 

“You want me to take care of him?” 

“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.” 

You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time? 

“Take me home,” you say firmly.

He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood. 

He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet. 

“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing. 

He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman? 

Your face wrinkles in confusion. 

“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number. 

“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.” 

You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod. 

“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.” 

You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does. 

You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave. 

Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?” 

You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes. 

He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.” 

You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard. 

And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin. 

You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you. 

“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically. 

Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks. 

The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse. 

Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer. 

He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.  

A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.  

You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?

“You want me to leave?” 

“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away. 

“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts. 

“I am,” you huff.

“Tell me to stop.” You can’t. 

“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead. 

He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder. 

“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?” 

“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you. 

He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation. 

He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.  

While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath. 

“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t. 

When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap. 

You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.

“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself. 

He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head. 

“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works. 

“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more. 

“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.

“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.” 

You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you. 

“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips. 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men? 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt. 

Oh. 

He’s not wrong. You want to hear more. 

“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.” 

He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity. 

“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.” 

He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face. 

It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot. 

You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders. 

Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out. 

“Make me yours,” you incite. 

You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed.  He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath. 

“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck. 

“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both. 

“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.

You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up. 

He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets. 

He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing. 

if you'd like to be on a taglist please let me know !

previous (part 2) ⎯ next (part 4)

[fuckyeahlabynight]

Special Guests announced for the Darkness Emergent LARP Chapter 4: Los Angeles.

B. Dave Walters as Baron Victor Temple and Jason Carl

[qbert-curse]

Dave the Diver - Special guest order

[petrichorca]

Hello, I am slowly figuring out how to use tumblr effectively. I thought I'd give an update on fics I've written in 2024, but keep forgetting to talk about here in a meaningful way.

As We Go Hand in Hand (explicit, gentlebeard, 7100 words) follows Ed as he processes the past few months while living on the island with Stede, massively in love but struggling with himself. I wrote it while feeling a lot of delayed grief around the (confirmed) s2 cancellation, and while it's sad at points it's also quite romantic I think. I really love this story.

Behind Closed Eyes All I See is You (explicit, gentlebeard, 5300 words) is a smutty PWP my dear friend @chaoticturtleturtle invited me to write with her. Stede lets Ed take the lead in a scene with some sensory deprivation, pwp, and aftercare.

like sugar to my heart (mature, gentlebeard, 4200 words) is a silly fic I wrote for my Animorphs OFMD AU co-writer as a birthday gift. Our blue four-legged four-eyed mouthless alien Stedeth gets foiled by a vending machine (based on the tumblr art of the giraffe centaur), and Ed consoles him.

like a bird (teen, gentlebeard, 3700 words) with @ghostalservice gives some backstory about Stedeth's life prior to the events of our 177k fic and features some very cute art of Mary and Stede's children (as Andalites, of course) by @theogem

Stede’s Cursed Red Suit as a Metaphor for Grief and Moving On (teen, stede + izzy, 1717 words) explores the squishy time of season 2, episode 5, and the dynamic between Stede and Izzy in season 2 overall. I am also obsessed with how Stede acts in the cursed suit. I find their s2 relationship really interesting so this is me looking a bit at that via a missing scene starting with Stede yelling OH FUCK OFF.

Calypso’s Dawn (explicit, gentlebeard, 1800 words) centers around how Ed made his boyfriend blush the morning after Calypso's birthday and how Ed feels about it. I love this fic. I've been trying to challenge myself to write more self-contained, shorter stories and this one turned out really well imo.

Life as a Series of Forward Rolls (teen, gentlebeard, 9900 words) features Stede running into his teenhood crush, the gold medalist in men's gymnastics from the 1996 Olympics. This fic also centers around a Barbie doll in Ed Teach's likeness, which @swashbuckling-sweethearts made an INCREDIBLE art of (embedded at the end of the story), inspired by my own 1996 Olympics Barbie. Silly and light modern AU!

Did you mean to do that? (teen, gentlebeard, 700 words) explores Stede's grief around Ed dying, even when he knows Ed is alive. I had no idea I would be so interested in writing missing scenes, but long conversations with friends have really ignited me in exploring these. (The length - I was trying to channel @brigdh, whose ability to write devastatingly brilliant drabbles inspires me, and I'm pleased with this one!)

Perfectly Ordinary Tuesday (mature, gentlebeard, 4900 words) with @ferventrabbit follows Stede and Ed deciding to get married on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday, and drag their inn guest Dave along for the ride. We split up writing the vows, and I balled my eyes out writing mine and then reading em's. This story is fluffy and fun, and it was a great way to start 2024. :)

What's next: I'm working on or noodling a lot of projects, solo and with different collaborators. Imminently, I've got a fic with @veeagainsttheday coming for AUpril on April 1st. Hoping to get something else out in April for @ofmdjanuaury's AUpril 2024 event, which I highly encourage folks to check out - it's for all sorts of creators!

@ghostalservice and I continue to think about our blue alien Stede and his human boyfriend Ed. Wanna Fly Away was such an important project to me while we were writing, and it's become even more special as folks find it. WFA now has art embedded in most of the 15 chapters, so if you haven't seen those check it out. More to come in that space.

Where was I going with this? Well, I suppose I want to say I'm still here. OFMD changed my life, and the OFMD fandom community is deeply important to me. I still hold out hope for a third season, or a follow-up that brings us more closure, but no matter what I'm still thinking about our pirates and will for a long time. If you read this far, thanks for being part of my community. <3

[popcornforone]

PEDROTOBER 2024

I have never done this before & I know it’s technically a drawing challenge set up by @alyssamariag & @norththelemon but I was away on holiday & had some time to write, so I thought why not. Yes I should have worked on WIP & other things but you know this is gonna be fun. I’ve taken some liberties with some but you’ll understand why.

I will be updating this every day in October so stay for the that. Most of these are short with hints of smut but some are well you know all to well.

So please let me know peoples how you find these

Warnings before we start:- some of these fics will not be for those under the age of 18 so please read at your own discretion, also assume consent is used for most of these unless stated & swearing will be included in a few of these. Any other warnings will appear per fic

1) Dreamy (Mr Fantastic)

2) Bromance or Romance P1 (Dieter Bravo)

3) Only the Best (Agent Whiskey [nails prompt])

4) Unspoken (Silva)

5) Be a Good Girl (Detective Tim Rockford[Esquire prompt])

6) Bromance or Romance P2 (Dieter Bravo)

7) Home (Ezra)

8) Smothered (Mrs Flores & a Special guest[Corona Prompt])

9) Think Fink (Frankie Morales [Fink the Fox Prompt])

10) The Casual Campaign (Ted Garcia[Candid/ T-shirt Prompt])

11) Red (Max Phillips)

12) Pride (Marcus Moreno[Rainbow Trousers Prompt])

13) Speechless (Javi Gutierrez)

14) Domestic (Dave York [free choice])

15) Make Me A Match (The Materialist)

16) Laters Doll, Keep Smiling (Agent Whiskey)

17) Handy (Dave York[Arm Sling Prompt])

18) Smitten (Oberyn Martell)

19) Two Faced (Max Lord[SDCC Prompt])

20) I’ll Make an Exception (Frankie Morales)

21) Bromance or Romance P3 (Dieter Bravo[Curls Prompt])

22) The Wait (General Marcus Acacius [Gladiator II Prompt])

23) Safety (Din Djarin)

24) One Last Dance (Max Phillips [Sundance Prompt])

25) Laundry (Javier Peña)

26) Flying High (Javi Gutierrez [Vanity Fair Prompt])

27) Unlocked (Joel Miller [The Last Of Us Prompt])

28) OCTOBER (Marcus Pike [any Marcus Prompt]{part of the Marcus pike Diary})

29) Sweet Like Chocolate (Lucien Flores[The Uninvited Prompt])

30) Roses (Detective Tim Rockford[Awards Fit Favourite Prompt])

31) Spoilt (Mr Ben [SAG Awards Prompt])

[black-arcana]

Watch: LZZY HALE, CRISTINA SCABBIA And COURTNEY LAPLANTE Take Part In SPOTIFY's 'Women Of Metal: Roundtable'

Spotify has released a "Women Of Metal: Roundtable" episode featuring SPIRITBOX's Courtney LaPlante, HALESTORM's Lzzy Hale and LACUNA COIL's Cristina Scabbia.

They didn't wait for permission — they carved their own path. LaPlante, Hale and Scabbia open up about their journey in metal, breaking through barriers, and transforming the genre through their passion, talent, and unbreakable bond.

Watch the full discussion below.

SPIRITBOX's sophomore album, "Tsunami Sea", was released on March 7 via Pale Chord/Rise Records.

SPIRITBOX recently completed a European tour, which included a February 13 concert at London's iconic Alexandra Palace, marking the band's largest headline show to date with 10,000 tickets sold.

SPIRITBOX will launch the "Tsunami Sea" North American tour on April 3 in Dallas, Texas. The 24-date trek — produced by Live Nation — brings LOATHE, DYING WISH and GEL along for the ride, tearing through cities across the U.S. and Canada.

This summer, SPIRITBOX will step onto even bigger stages, joining LINKIN PARK for select stadium dates in Italy, the Netherlands, and the U.K.

Formed in 2017 in the picturesque yet isolated region of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada by LaPlante and Courtney's husband Mike Stringer, SPIRITBOX cemented itself as a household name in hard rock circles in the summer of 2020 with the release of its blistering breakout single "Holy Roller", along with a host of other captivating singles shortly after, resulting in a media firestorm of hype.

Earlier this year, Lzzy and her HALESTORM bandmate Joe Hottinger completed "Halestorm's Lzzy And Joe: The Living Room Sessions" tour featuring the duo performing acoustic, stripped down versions of HALESTORM favorites and the music that inspired the band.

HALESTORM has spent the last few months recording the follow-up to 2022's "Back From The Dead" album with producer Dave Cobb.

Cobb has shared in nine Grammy wins, including four for "Best Americana Album" and three for "Best Country Album". He's also been named "Producer Of The Year" by the Country Music Awards, the Americana Music Association (twice) and the Music Row Awards, and has been a Grammy nominee in the category.

Last summer HALESTORM and I PREVAIL completed a co-headlining tour. Produced by Live Nation, the trek was also the catalyst and the creative spark for HALESTORM and I PREVAIL's collaborative track "Can U See Me In The Dark?", which was released last June.

"Back From The Dead" has tallied over 100 million streams worldwide. Rolling Stone called the title track "a biting but cathartic howler about overcoming all obstacles," and that song as well as "The Steeple" marked their fifth and sixth number ones at rock radio, respectively. Associated Press said the album "will definitely be in the running for best hard rock/metal album of the year." Their previous album, "Vicious", earned the band their second Grammy nomination, for "Best Hard Rock Performance" for the song "Uncomfortable", the band's fourth #1 at rock radio, and led Loudwire to name HALESTORM "Rock Artist Of The Decade" in 2019.

LACUNA COIL's latest album, "Sleepless Empire", was released on February 14, 2025 via Century Media Records.

Inspiration to create "Sleepless Empire" came during the sessions for "Comalies XX" (2022),the acclaimed remake of LACUNA COIL's breakthrough third record "Comalies". Writing and recording took place in northern Italy between Milano (the band's hometown) and Como, where SPVN Studios are located. As with their previous albums, production was done in house with LACUNA COIL bassist Marco "Maki" Coti Zelati at the helm, and artwork was hand curated by the talented Italian artist Roberto Toderico. Two other very special talents enrich the album, namely the guest vocalists: LAMB OF GOD's Randy Blythe on the song "Hosting The Shadow" and NEW YEARS DAY's Ash Costello on "In The Mean Time".

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Matt Davies

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 23, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Dec 24, 2024

Today the House Ethics Committee released its report on its investigation of widely reported allegations that while in office, former representative Matt Gaetz (R-FL) had engaged in sexual misconduct and illicit drug use, shared inappropriate videos on the House floor, misused state records, diverted campaign funds for his own use, and accepted a bribe or an impermissible gift.

The report says that the committee found “substantial evidence” that Gaetz had, in fact, “regularly paid women for engaging in sexual activity with him”; “engaged in sexual activity with a 17-year-old girl”; “used or possessed illegal drugs, including cocaine and ecstasy, on multiple occasions”; “accepted gifts…in excess of permissible amounts”; arranged official help for one of his sexual partners, whom he falsely identified to the State Department as a constituent, in getting a passport; tried to obstruct the committee’s investigation; and “acted in a manner that reflects discreditably upon the House.”

The committee concluded that “there was substantial evidence that Representative Gaetz violated House Rules, state and federal laws, and other standards of conduct prohibiting prostitution, statutory rape, illicit drug use, acceptance of impermissible gifts, the provision of special favors and privileges, and obstruction of Congress.”

It “did not find sufficient evidence to conclude that Representative Gaetz violated the federal sex trafficking statute. Although Representative Gaetz did cause the transportation of women across state lines for purposes of commercial sex, the Committee did not find evidence that any of those women were under 18 at the time of travel.”

Gaetz is a staunch ally of President-elect Donald Trump, who tried to put Gaetz in charge of the Justice Department. That appointment would have him responsible for law enforcement across the United States. House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) tried hard to keep the report hidden once Trump had tapped Gaetz for attorney general, saying he “strongly request[ed] that the Ethics Committee not issue the report.”

The Ethics Committee at first deadlocked over releasing it, but Andrew Solender of Axios reported today that two Republicans on the committee, Representative Dave Joyce (R-OH) and Andrew Garbarino (R-NY), switched their votes to join the Democrats supporting the release of the report.

Ethics Committee chair Michael Guest (R-MS) and Representatives Michelle Fischbach (R-MN) and John Rutherford (R-FL) all opposed releasing the report, saying that they lost jurisdiction after Gaetz resigned, which he did when Trump announced his intention of putting him in the office of attorney general. In their comments in the report, they said they “do not challenge the Committee’s findings” but object to their disclosure.

Republican Party leaders were willing to put a man their own committee says likely violated state and federal laws into the position of the nation’s highest law enforcement officer. That scenario reflects the extraordinary danger of a country in which one party’s supporters see themselves as the country’s only legitimate governing party.

In 1970, President Richard M. Nixon’s team worried that the Republican Party would hemorrhage voters in the upcoming midterm elections. That spring, Nixon announced that rather than ending the Vietnam War, he had sent ground troops into Vietnam’s neighbor Cambodia. In the protests that followed, members of the Ohio National Guard fired into a crowd at Kent State University, killing four protesters. Nixon’s clumsy suggestion that the protesters were responsible for the shooting began to turn middle-class white Americans, his key demographic, against him.

So Nixon’s advisors turned to a strategy they called “positive polarization.” They believed that dividing the country was a positive development because it stoked the anger they needed to get their voters to turn out. They deliberately turned against what they called “the media, the left, [and] the liberal academic community,” drawing voters to Nixon by accusing their opponents of being lazy, dangerous, and anti-American.

This polarization became a key technique of the Republican Party in the Reagan years, when talk radio hosts like Rush Limbaugh began to fill the airwaves with attacks on “feminazis,” liberals, and Black Americans who they claimed were trying to impose socialism on America. By 1990, a Republican group associated with then-representative Newt Gingrich (R-GA) compiled a list of words for Republican candidates to use when talking about Democrats. They included “decay,” “sick,” “greed,” “corruption, “radical,” and “traitor.” In contrast, candidates were encouraged to refer to Republicans using words like “opportunity,” “courage,” “principle(d),” “caring,” and “peace.”

Over the past thirty years, Republicans appear to have come to believe that nothing is more important than making sure Republicans control the government. Less competition has given rise to states like Florida that are essentially controlled by the Republicans. This, in turn, means there is very little oversight of the party’s lawmakers, making obviously problematic candidates able to survive far longer than they would if there were opposition to highlight poor behavior.

It also means that party members appear willing to overlook deeply problematic behavior in their own lawmakers, who come to feel immune, while attacking Democrats for what Republicans claim is the same behavior. Notably, in February of this year, in a closed hearing before the House Oversight Committee, Gaetz badgered President Biden’s son Hunter over his drug use. Hunter Biden responded that he had been “absolutely transparent” about his drug use and asked: “What does that have to do with whether or not you're going to go forward with an impeachment of my father other than to simply try to embarrass me?”

The answer is that while the drug use of private citizen Hunter Biden did not affect the U.S. government, the drug use of congressmember Matt Gaetz did. In a healthy political system, political opposition would have called out his behavior long before he was tapped to become one of the most important figures in the government.

Crucially, in such a system, state law enforcement would have pursued Gaetz, and his own party would have dropped him like a hot potato long before it had to face commentary like that of progressive journalist Brian Tyler Cohen, who today wrote: “Congratulations to Mike Johnson for trying to pressure the House Ethics Committee into burying a report that found the then-nominee for attorney general had engaged in sexual activity with a minor. Party of Family Values, am I right?”

The Republicans’ determination to hold on to the government at all costs showed in a different story that broke this weekend. Representative Kay Granger (R-TX) has been absent from Congress since midsummer. On Sunday, Carlos Turcios of the Dallas Express reported that he found the 81-year-old representative in a memory care and assisted living home. In the months since she went missing, her staff continued to submit material to the Congressional Record, making it look like she was still active.

Chad Pergram of the Fox News Channel reported that a senior Republican source explained why Granger retained her seat despite her incapacity. Referring to what Pergram called “the paper-thin [Republican] House majority,” the source said: “Frankly, we needed the numbers.”

Granger’s condition has reignited the national conversation about the age and capacity of our lawmakers, an issue very much on the table for the 78-year-old president-elect, whose own behavior has been erratic for a while now.

On Sunday, Trump spoke at Turning Point’s AmericaFest in Phoenix, where, as Aaron Rupar of Public Notice recorded, he entered as if he were at a professional wrestling event. He proceeded to deliver a speech much like his campaign speeches.

It had an important new element in it, though, that he had pioneered on social media the night before. He claimed that Panama is not treating the U.S. well, and threatened that he will “demand that the Panama Canal be returned to the United States of America in full, quickly, and without question.” On Sunday he posted on social media that he wants Greenland too. “For purposes of National Security and Freedom throughout the World, the United States of America feels that the ownership and control of Greenland is an absolute necessity.”

Panama’s president, José Raúl Mulino, responded that “every square meter of the Panama Canal and its adjacent zones is part of Panama, and it will continue to be. Our country’s sovereignty and independence are not negotiable.” Prime Minister Mute B. Egede of Greenland said: “Greenland is ours. We are not for sale and will never be for sale. We must not lose our long struggle for freedom.”

To my knowledge, Trump never mentioned taking the Panama Canal or Greenland during the campaign, and such dramatic action will likely undermine the principle that countries can’t just take over weaker neighbors. This principle is central to the United Nations, which holds that territorial integrity and sovereignty are “sacrosanct” and that members “shall refrain…from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state.” David Sanger and Lisa Friedman of the New York Times note that Trump’s aggression “reflects the instincts of a real estate developer who suddenly has the power of the world’s largest military to back up his negotiating strategy.”

In a healthy political system, pronouncements from an elderly president-elect that could upend 80 years of foreign policy would spark significant discussion from all quarters.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[eyesremain]

Hey Vast... You doing okay? I'm guessing the meeting didn't go well... - @davethecoolestguy

[ Vast didn't answer, just hiding his face in his knees. ]

[pedropascal24-7]

Pedro will be a part of SNL’s 50th anniversary special on Feb 16!

[katareyoudrilling]

The Sweepstakes: Dave York Epilogue (Porn Star AU)

Series: The Sweepstakes

Pairing: Porn Star Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: You learned a lot about yourself during your night with Dave York.  What’s next?

Word count: ~1.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: kink club, bondage demonstration, a touch of voyeurism I guess

A/N: Thank you for all your support of porn star Dave York.  He really is something special.  I hope you like what I’ve imagined here!  This follows The Sweepstakes: Dave York so read that first!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

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You smooth down your dress with damp palms as you approach the building front of you.  A simple sign hangs over the entrance.  You’d never have looked twice at this place if you hadn’t been told to come here.  You’ve never been to a kink club before.

Dave had brought it up as you lounged on the bed in the filming room, sharing some snacks he had found in the kitchen, while you recovered from your latest round.

You learned a lot from Dave that night.  He talked you through several scenarios before giving some of them a try.

When he mentioned the member-only club, he explained how important it is to be with a partner who knows what they’re doing when it comes to kink and how the club could be a place to meet similarly minded people.  He told you that he would be here tonight in his regular booth.

He said he would add you to the guest list.

You push open the door and find yourself in a small vestibule facing a friendly woman at a hostess stand.

“Hi, I’m.. uhh.. I should be on the guest list.”

She finds your name and opens the door behind her.

You thank her and step into the room.  It doesn’t look much different than other clubs.  The bar sits along the back wall, back-lit liquor bottles rising above it on shelves up to the ceiling.  Tables fill the middle of the room, with U-shaped booths lining the walls.  The moody lighting and low thumping music add to the standard bar aesthetic.

There’s a stage at the other end of the room, where you might expect to see a band set-up to play.  Instead, you watch as two women step onto it to a smattering of applause.  One is dressed in tall boots, a tiny skirt, and a bustier top, the other is in a silk robe.  Once on stage, she lets the robe fall to the ground revealing only a thong underneath.

Many of the patrons adjust in their seats to give the women their attention.  No one jeers or makes lewd comments.  They are respectful, almost reverent.  You watch with bated breath as the nearly naked woman lifts her arms over her head for the other to secure her wrists to a chain hanging from the ceiling.

Adrenaline surges through your body at the sight of such sexual freedom.  You’ve never seen anything like this.

You have to drag your eyes away from what’s happening on the stage to look for Dave.

You spot him across the room in a booth, right where he said he would be, wearing his signature all black outfit.  This time it’s a black button down with the cuffs rolled up to reveal his chiseled forearms.  Gorgeous. He sips a glass of caramel colored liquor as he watches the stage intently.  His dark, piercing gaze taking in every detail of what’s happening.

You make your way over, summoning all the courage you have, to interrupt his focus. Even though you spent an incredible night together, he is still intimidating.

He must sense your approach though and turns to you before you can say his name, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

“You came!”

“Thanks for inviting me.”  You offer a shaky smile in return.

“Here.  Sit. You’re just in time for the demonstration.”  He makes room for you next to him in the booth and waves down a server to take your drink order.

Your gaze travels back to the stage, now conveniently in front of you.  The nearly naked woman sways from the chain from the ceiling.  Her feet touch the ground, but she doesn’t seem to want to use her legs to hold herself up.  Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders and breasts as her head lolls to one side.

The other woman has a length of red rope that she has wrapped and tied around the other woman’s waist.  You watch, entranced, as she knots the rope and wraps it around her body forming intricate patterns.

“Have you ever seen shibari before?” Dave interrupts your focused observation.

You clear your throat and find your voice.  “The word sounds a little familiar, but no, I haven’t.”

“It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it?  See how she allows herself to be moved and tied? She can just trust and relax into it, like she’s in a trance,” he murmurs into your ear, and you allow yourself to imagine what it would feel like to be the woman up on that stage.  You think you’d like it.

“Who are they?”

“The one tying is Nina.  She teaches shibari workshops here, among other things.  The other is Carol, my wife.”

You turn to him in surprise.  “You’re married?”

He smiles and nods.  “We have an open relationship.  With my job, that comes with the territory.  But also, outside of that, we can date other people, just not get emotionally involved.  She is my person.”  Dave watches his wife on stage again and you can see it in his eyes—the love he has for her.  It makes you feel warm inside.

So many possibilities have opened to you now that you’re learning where you look for them.  There are partners willing to experiment with you.  There are people in the types of relationships you’ve only dared to imagine in your most private thoughts.

The ropes cross Carol’s torso now, framing her breasts, digging into the soft flesh at her sides.  They circle her ass and thighs, wrapping down around her legs in intricate twists and loops.  You notice how her nipples pebble when the other woman whispers in her ear and moves her with the ropes.  Your own nipples seem to be responding the same way and wetness grows between your legs.

You take a deep gulp of your drink to cool down.

“It’s turning you on, watching them.” Dave leans close to you to speak quietly in your ear, one arm stretched behind you on the back of the booth, breath ghosting across your cheek.  “That’s good.  It’s supposed to.”

His deep voice in your ear takes you right back to the night you spent with him, and your body responds accordingly.  Your breath hitches as Dave drags his fingers up your bare arm, goosebumps rising in their wake.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.  “I would play with you again anytime, you know, but I think there are others here who would like to too, and it would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself.”

You look at Dave in surprise, shivers running down your spine at his words.  He nods towards the tables in the middle of the room.  You follow his gaze to find a handsome man looking right at you.  He raises his glass and winks.

“He’s a good guy.  I think you’d like him.”

Applause erupts from the crowd as the women on stage finish their demonstration. Nina spins Carol around showing off all her handiwork before taking a quick bow and releasing Carol’s wrists.  You take a moment to gather yourself as you clap along.  Dave pulls back from you slightly to give an appreciative whistle.

He turns back to you and holds your gaze.  “If you are ok here, I’m going to go take my wife to a private room and let him,” he cocks his head towards the tables, “come over and talk to you.  Is that ok with you?”

You nod.  Your heart flutters with excitement and possibility.  This place could be exactly what you need, and you think you’re ready to find out.

“Words, remember?”

“Yes. That’s ok.”  Your words come out confidently despite your fizzing nerves and Dave smiles.

“Everyone knows me here, so if you need me, just ask.” Dave places a kiss on your cheek before making his way out of the booth.  “Have fun, beautiful.”

You take another bracing drink and watch Dave make his way over to Carol, passing by the man at the table and patting him on the shoulder as he goes.

Carol’s arms have been let down, but her body is still tied up.  Dave pulls her to him by the knot at her sternum.  You know he’s speaking to her in that deep, gravelly voice, telling her exactly what he wants to do to her.  It’s so fucking hot.  You watch as they make their way off the stage and down a hallway to the side you hadn’t noticed before.

As they disappear from view, a man clears his throat at your side.

“Can I join you?” he gestures to the seat across from you.  It’s the man Dave had pointed out to you.

You nod, but then remember Dave’s instruction to use words.  “Uhh… sure.. yes,” you stammer.

He takes his seat and smiles at you.  You’re immediately taken in by the crinkles that form at the corners of his warm, brown eyes.  You feel yourself relax and return his smile.

“Is it your first time here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around. I’m….”

- - - - - - - - - - 

A/N: Who do you want it to be???  I considered many options but couldn’t decide.  So, I’ve left it up to you! Don’t be mad lol

Series Masterlist

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[janamelie]

New Red Dwarf Challenge

Day 29: One thing you hope to see in the (alleged) new miniseries

Hattie!!!

I know I mention this quite a lot but it bears repeating.  The fact that Hattie is the only BBC era regular not to get at least a guest appearance in the Dave era is just unfair.  I realise it’s because Doug seems to have decided that Norman is his go-to Holly which I think is more than unfair. 

However, that doesn’t mean she can’t make a guest appearance.  As various people have suggested, a good idea for this special IF it ever happens is to return to the parallel universe and catch up with Deb, Arlene, Jim, Bexley and Dog.  Just have Hattie play Hilly as she did in her first episode and there you go, everyone’s happy.

I realise this outcome isn’t particularly likely but I can dream.  Hattie contributed so much to many episodes which are widely considered as amongst Red Dwarf’s best. She deserves an encore.

("White Hole" gif made by myself using this site. https://smegadrive.ganymede.tv/)

[taylormarieee]

Co-Stars turned Lovers A Callum Turner love story

Chapter 2: "Falling behind"

Pairing: Callum Turner x Fem!Bestfriend!Actress!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: angst, reader feels down, Callum and reader's relationship is on pause, special guest: Barry Keoghan, hurt to comfort, reader feels left out, long talks with Austin + some smexy tension, PLOT TWIST, fluff, reader goes out with Austin and has fun... enjoy!

PARTIALLY EDITED<33

Summary: {In this chapter, reader finds herself in her thoughts after being out with friends. All of her friends are falling in love and she's falling behind... Her feelings for Callum slowly fading away but she will have to face the fact that she can't have it all...}

THIS CHAPTER IS BASED ON THIS SONG:

Previously on Co-Stars turned Lovers...

That night was a night you've never forgotten but what you were completely oblivious too was that that night was unforgettable to Callum too.

He thought about that night everyday he looked at you... everytime he touched you... everytime he sees lip gloss coat your full lips.

It plagued his mind like a virus corrupting a humans mind. He wanted you badly but he knew he couldn't have you. He couldn't ruin this relationship he had with you, this beautiful friendship, but goddamn were you addicting.

you and Callum were polar opposites yet destined to be together...If only you two could open your eyes and see what is right in front of you.

You and him were made for each other, you just needed to find each other. Like two lost souls searching for a purpose. Like the Earth and the Moon, they look platonic but one can't live without the other. Destined to fall in love either way.

Love, fate, and desire... Something you two need to give into in order to find yourselves.

You were out to brunch with a couple of your friends from high school. You guys were a tiny knit group, just the four of you, together all the time and never breaking up.

The one thing you hated about being in this group was... you were the only one without a man. You were 32 years old and still to this day haven't found a man.

The main problem was because nobody met (Callum's standards) your standards. They weren't like Callum. Another main reason was because you never really wanted to do that dating thing, going online then meeting up with them only to find out there a total dick.

It was sad though, it still broke your heart. Vanessa would have a funny story to tell about her husband, Sandra always had gossip about these guys at her boyfriends job, and Stacy would always have something to say about her husband and his family and how spectacular they were.

Whilst you, you never had anything to contribute to the conversation. They would ask you about work and if you've gotten a role or a casting call but never, EVER will they ask you if you have a man unless you bring it up.

Because they know. They know you haven't gone out to find one, they know your phone has zero messages or notifications from a dating app about how you and some random named dave matched.

They know that you're stuck up on one man and one man only.

"Did you hear me?" a muffled voice said. You look up and realize they are all staring at you. Vanessa was next to you with a hand on your shoulder (she was the one that spoke) and Sandra and Stacy were in front of you with worried looks on their faces.

"Huh, what did you say?" you ask with confusion. You chuckle and speak again, "Sorry, I was zoned out badly wasn't I." When you realize that that didn't exactly lift the mood your smile fades and you clear your throat.

"I said, when are you gonna tell him?" Vanessa repeats her previous statement. "Huh, tell who what?" you ask confused.

"Callum silly!" she says with a smile. Your eyes widen and she laughs. "Hi! Hello, do you remember who I am? Awkward me could never tell him I love him." you respond taking a sip of your lemonade.

"Oh please, you already tell him you love him, you need to tell him you're in love with him. There's a difference." she ends in a sing songy voice.

"yea well even if I did do that, he doesn't feel the same." you say with your head down.

"EXCUSE ME!" Stacy yells out. "Do I need to remind you of the story you told us about a thousand times? "OMG Callum kissed me last night and we were all alone!" Do you remember now?" She says with a scrunched up look on her face, her eyes narrowed at you in an accusing manner.

"That was not what I said at all Stacy... I said that we were a bit tipsy and he called me beautiful and then kissed me. He immediately apologized and we both forgot about that night like it was nothing." You say with your head in your hands.

"Babes, that was clearly not nothing." Sandra says. "There's no way being a little tipsy makes you all lovey dovey and kiss someone like that. You remember us in our college days. Being tipsy doesn't make you do bold moves like that."

You shake your head, "well then if he was still in his right mind, why didn't he confess his feelings right then and there? Why apologize and make a deal to forget it ever happened?" You counter to her argument.

"Maybe he's scared? Doesn't wanna ruin a good friendship and make it awkward if you didn't feel the same?" Stacy responds.

"Or maybe he's a pussy." Vanessa says. You all look at her shocked. Stacy is shaking her head while you and Sandra are just staring at her.

"What!? it's a fact though isn't it?" she defends. You all shake your heads. "Anyways..." Stacy says, "He's doing the same thing your doing. Testing the waters and as soon as he feels he's going too far, he overthinks and then shuts down."

"Stacy does have a point girl. Communication is always key in a relationship. That's how me and Brad got through are arguments so well. A majority of the time is was over a lack of communication." Sandra says.

"Yea but you guys were already in a relationship. You both have already gone through that stage of getting to know each other. Me and Callum have known each other for years now, and still I don't know how to approach him. I feel like if I put all that on him, he'll get scared and leave me. I've become to attached to him for him to leave me..." You say sadly with tears in your eyes.

Before anyone can say anything, you get a phone call. "It's uhm it's Barry, I gotta take this." You say wiping away the tears that escaped.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Are you busy right now?" He asks.

"Nope, I'm just out with friends. Why? What's wrong Bare?"

"Nothing, just wanted to talk to you about Callum, can you come over? If not we can stay on the phone?" He says

"Yea, I kinda can't leave right now but I can stay on the phone. What about Callum?"

"Well he's uhm-" before barry could finish you hear yelling over the phone.

"CALLUM CALM DOWN!" You know who's voice that is, it's Austin's.

"uh barry, what is going on?"You say chuckling over the phone as you pace around the outside of the cafe.

"So yea, your not the only one with separation anxiety. Callum has been crying and screaming for the past three hours because he misses you. We got off our plane about 5 hours ago and then he saw you on the billboard about 3 hours ago and now he's been crying about wanting to hold you ever since."

You laugh out loud and laugh the happiest most genuine laugh you have laughed in hours. Soon you get an incoming facetime call from Barry and you see Callum's eyes immediately.

"Hi loveee! It's you! Why aren't you here?? COME HERE NOW! I need you please!!!! Your my pookie! is that how you say that word? pookie? poooookie?! ha!" he says over the phone.

"I'm coming Callum, don't worry. Barry! I'll be there shortly ok? Just hang on folks." you respond with a smile on your face.

You hang up the phone and go back inside the cafe. The girls all look at you with worried expressions yet again.

"I have to go, Barry needs me to help him with something." You say with a small smile on your face.

"To help with something or someone?" Vanessa says with a smile on her face.

"Oh shut up! Bye girls! I'll talk to you guys tomorrow!" you yell out and wave.

You walk to your car, get in and turn on the radio hoping it will bring you good spirits.

The moment you turn it on a lovely upbeat melody begins.

"Moved out to a new city, June is dawning down on me."

you listen to the lyrics closely as you back out of the parking lot.

"And all that I can find, A sickly romance in the air. Lovers stroll without a care in sight, ooh this can't be right..."

You shake your head, "Sure is." you say while driving. You turn it up a little more.

" 'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy"

"wow. these lyrics hit deep, why does this relate to me so much." you say sadly.

"I'm only getting older I've never had a shoulder to cry on, Someone to call mine"

"Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind"

You turn off the radio and sink in your seat as you ease up to a red light.

You think about what the lyrics said and about how your life is going versus your friends lives.

you turn the radio back up and listen some more.

"Touched the ocean, fell right in Stepped outside and burned my skin My life won't go my way."

That part is very true. Your life just doesn't seem to go your way, especially in the love aspect of it.

"Bossa nova in my room Hope that I'll find someone too to love Because"

"The sun's engaged to the sky And my best friend's found a new guy I'm only getting older"

You are only getting older. You're 32 and still haven't found someone to call yours.

"I've never had a shoulder to cry on Someone to call mine Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind"

You start to cry as your thoughts overwhelm you, speeding the car up by stepping on the gas a little harder.

"Everybody's falling in love Everybody's falling in love, oh Everybody's falling in love but me"

you hear the last of the melody before you finally reach Barrys house. You just sit in the driveway head on the steering wheel as you cry your heart out.

You hated this, god how much you hated this. Seeing your friends in happy relationships while your sitting here suffering. Suffering from the fact that you are falling behind.

Suffering from the fact that every time you look at Callum, you get butterflies. Every time he touches you, your skin burns with love for the rest of the day.

You don't get that feeling with anyone else. You used to get that feeling with Austin, but then he found a girlfriend. Yea they broke up and you could always go to Austin but you don't wanna do that to him

You don't wanna ruin a good friendship where everything is pink and white. Love fucking sucks. Maybe you do need to talk to someone about this. Austin! Austin! Austin!

A little voice is telling you to talk to the person you trust and love the absolute most(apart from Callum).

You wipe the tears from your eyes and the smudged mascara on your eyes and walk towards the door.

You knock and to your lovely surprise it's Austins face. Also to your surprise, his face is sad.

"Austin?" You ask grabbing his face. "What's wrong?" you say with a sad frown on your face.

"I should be asking if your ok?" he says. Your face obviously contorts into one of confusion choosing to push all your feelings down.

"what do you mean?" you ask confused. He pulls his phone out and it shows an article that was posted 35 minutes ago. It has a photo and video link posted below. You begin to read the article...

Y/N Y/L/N SEEN CRYING OUTSIDE OF A CAFE WHILE ON THE PHONE, SHE IS HEARD SAYING CALLUM TURNERS NAME AND AUSTIN BUTLERS NAME: Many say that y/n y/l/n was crying while on the phone. She was heard and seen by many fans and people who stood on the sidelines. What could have possibly occurred to make actress and famous award-winning woman cry. Well many witness took videos and pictures that are all linked below. Could this possibly be a love triangle between her, Callum Turner and Austin Butler? Could she be crying because she doesn't know what to do? Well, stay tuned as they are being interviewed tomorrow by the one and only JIMMY FALLON: ON THE TONIGHT SHOW!

you read the end and your eyes are wide the entire time after you finish reading the article.

Austin puts his hand down and tucks his phone in his pocket. He looks at you. "I don't care about the love triangle why were you crying?" he asks.

"You may not care Austin but I do, it doesn't matter why I was crying and that so called video was weeks ago! I wore that outfit 2 weeks ago! Does that look like the outfit i'm wearing today? Fucking love triangle!? Are you fucking kidding me!?" you say throwing your hands up.

"I've already had the most shitty day ever and now this!? Why honestly can't I just be left alone? THIS IS FUCKING INSANE!"

Austin stands there looking at you. "Oh don't gimme that look Austin!" you yell out.

"what? what look y/n?" he says lowly. You stare at him and make eye contact for the longest time it felt as if time just stopped.

"I honestly d-don't know. Your giving me two looks. One looks like i'm fucking insane and the other look..." you trail off.

"what's the other look?" he asks with an eyebrow raised as he turns around to close the front door behind him leaving the both of you standing outside.

"Like i just hung up the moon and all the stars in the sky." you say breaking eye contact and looking at your feet.

"Maybe it's both." he says with a shrug. You look up at him with wide eyes and blink. 'What did he mean by that?' you thought. Before you could say anything Barry walks out with a tired and annoyed look on his face.

"You. And You. Inside. Now. Before I Pew pew him and myself." he says in his accent that you found just so adorable.

Austin chuckles and opens the door motioning for you to go in first.

"In you go M'lady." he says with a smirk on his face. You smile and walk in. You remove your shoes and walk over to where Callum is sitting on the couch.

"Hey Callum." you say with a smile, but when you say it he doesn't respond. As quickly as the smile came on your face is as quickly as it left.

You look at Austin and mouth 'did he see it?' and Austin nods yes. You sigh and look back at him. He doesn't even look at you. 'Why should he be mad, your the only one that should be pissed here.' you thought. It just wasn't making any sense.

Maybe Vanessa was right, Callum is being a pussy and you couldn't take it anymore, your finally realizing you can't have it all.

Maybe it's ok to be falling behind...

"You know what. Let's just cut to the chase." You say standing up and going to the front blocking the tv from Callum's view.

"We all saw the stupid article, ok? So Callum stop acting like a fucking baby about it. I don't know why you possibly could be upset or whatever batman broody mood your having but let's get one thing clear. Maybe 2 things."

Austin leans against the wall and Barry sits on the coffee table next to Callum.

"Number 1: That video was from 2 weeks ago. That isn't a new video. Number 2: I'm done being stereotyped because I have male friends and it's all "Oh there totally fucking" or "Yea no there definitely in love!" Like no were not! So if you and you know." You say pointing to Callum and Austin, "That we are not a thing and we are not dating, why is it affecting you so much." you say pointing to Callum again.

"Barry calls me over here for you, I finally get here and I get what the silent treatment? We all have an interview tomorrow and you wanna sit here in your fucking feelings cause of what? Me crying?" you say with a bitter laugh.

"I love all of you. Your my boys! But right now you feel like strangers to me. Especially you Callum. So if. you wanna be. on non-speaking terms and put this talk or friendship on pause by all means! Cause I can't keep doing these mixed feelings and one second your happy and wanna see me and the next you can't even look at me."

There's silence in the room for a. whole minute and you shake your head and scoff, "I fucking knew it. Well bye Barry, it was nice seeing you and hearing from you. Bye Austin, I'll text you later." You say before walking out of the door and slamming it.

You walk to your car and get inside. You don't turn it on you just sit there and breath. You feel like crying but what's the point. Your done. Done with Callum, done with those stupid feelings.

It's time to move on cause you can't have it all.

*knock knock!

You look up and turn towards the window. You see Austin's face and give him a weak smile before rolling down your window.

"Hi princess." he says. A nickname he's given you since you first started filming Masters of the air.

"Hi my prince." you say adding onto the little joke. He smiles at you and you wanna cry.

Callum used to smile at you just like that... God you have to get Callum out of your head!

"I know, you know. That your in love with him." Austin says as he fiddles with your steering wheel.

Your eyes widen at his confession and you proceed to talk. "How do you-"before you can even finish he interjects.

"It's obvious y/n. The way you look at him. The way. your eyes light up whenever he's mentioned in. a conversation or how giddy. you get whenever you talk about him." He explains.

"I's that obvious?" you say lowly.

"Your that oblivious? Everyone sees it. Why do you think the whole world believes your dating? They know what it looks like when someone is in love."

"But that leaves m-me and you... The whole love triangle thing. The fans never catch us together and only a few ship us together." You say oblivious to the truth.

"You know what I said about the way you look at Callum?" He says and you nod slowly trying to understand where he's going.

"It's the way I look at you..." He says looking away from your eyes. Your eyes widen with realization.

"Oh Austin... get in the car, we're going for a drive." you say smiling at him.

He shows confusion but your eager and motion for him to get in the passengers seat.

He runs to the other side and gets in. The both of you drive in silence for about 5 minutes before you say something.

"Austin...You know you didn't have to hide it from me right?" you say taking a glance at him.

He looks at you while your driving and pulling in to a McDonalds drive thru. "Yea I know, but you like someone else, sorry no, you love someone else. How can I get in the way of that especially when it's two of my best friends?" he says as you pull up to the board to order.

"Hold that thought ok? Hiii can I get Quarter Pounder with cheese please, and A large fry with a cola and a vanilla cone please?" You ask. The lady repeats the order and asks, "Is that all for you today?"

you look at Austin and ask, "Do you want your usual Austin?" He stares at you and smiles. "I'll take that as a yes!" you say with a chuckle.

"No, can I also get a double cheeseburger with a large fry and a lemonade with a chocolate chip cookie please? That's all!" you say with a smile.

She tells you order total and tells you to pull up to the window. You roll up your window again and turn to Austin as you sit in the line.

You guys pull up to the window and you give the lady your card and grab your food before you pull into the parking lot and turn off the car.

"Well I mean your my celebrity crush you know that? You've been my crush since Elvis, not even! Since like Sharpay's fabulous adventure." you admit.

His eyes widen as he takes a bite of his fry. "There's no way, your insane!" He says with a laugh which causes you to laugh with him.

"Yep!" you say stuffing your face with fries. "I've like been obsessed with you ever since then. Was always so excited to meet you and one day, I got to see you, and that was when like 14 year old me's dream came true. I got to act on screen with you for the first time." You say with a smile on your face.

"I never knew that. You just make me love you more every day you know that?" Austin admits to you as he looks out the window. He eventually turns to you as he takes a sip of his lemonade to wash down his food.

"Austin..." you say before he cuts you off. "I know I know, can't admit my feelings for you, I know." He says lowly and slowly.

"Austin..." you try to say but again he cuts you off. "How am I supposed to do that though? I mean your just like so gorgeous and like one of the best things that's ever happened to me. What can I do to change your mind y/n? Hmm? I just need to know how you fee-" he's cut off with you grabbing his face and kissing him.

His eyes are wide until they flutter closed and relish in the feeling of your mouth on his.

From what feels like hours is only minutes and you guys pull away and his eyes are still closed.You open your eyes and giggle at his reaction.

"Does that answer your question Austin?" you say with a smile on your face. His eyes open and he smiles back at you.

"Yea, but what about Callum?" He asks. You smile even wider now. "Austin, baby, I wanna forget about being in love with him all together! I want you know, why chase after a man who doesn't want me clearly and can't get his priorities straight when I have a man who loves me for me and sees me and is someone I've had a crush on since 2011." You say laughing and smiling with him.

He grabs your face and kissed you again. "Hey y/n?" He whispers out.

"Yea Austin?" you whisper back with a content smile on your face. "Wake up." he says.

You pull away and when you look at him with confusion, real you shoots up out of bed and wakes up realizing it was all a dream...

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