#jacob kemp
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highfalutin-son-of-a-gun · 8 months ago
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i love how no matter what, all fansies agree that davey jacobs is gay. no doubt about it.
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make-friends-with-the-rats · 3 months ago
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I know it's hard, but this is for science:
rip to my own local production that cast the blondest guy known to man as David 😭
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buttonsfleas · 9 months ago
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Davey Jacobs is literally a mood
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walkingtilwefall · 7 months ago
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Stephanie Styles (Y1 Tour Katherine) got married this weekend and I spot my fave Davey in the back of the people pile
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starboye · 14 days ago
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How did mateo become friends with nate and did he ever try to help nate from this obviously toxic mania of wanting to control his boyfriend after past failed relationships?
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mateo met nate through football, mateo had tried out for the team and was exceptionally good at it so he made the team and when he saw nate on the outside he seemed to be a pretty good dude
but after a couple months he started to see the true side of nate, the toxic abusive side of him after he broke up with maddie and started dating you
he saw the way nate treated you like shit and only wanted you for the good sex, then came when he walked in on nate slapping you and throwing you around the room and he ran to help you
"nate bro stop it"
"this doesn't fucking concern you"
"you're hurting him"
"don't worry the slut loves it right"
as much as he tried to nate away from you and keep you safe he couldn't with the way nate would over power you and him and drag you away with him
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Don't Speak 50
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp
Note: getting close.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You hate the smell of hospitals. It clings in your nose even after you leave. You can taste it. It dries out the mouth. It stains like the blinding lights against the sterile walls. Your vision is washed out in the hangover of your outing. 
The doctor took your blood. He asked questions too but you didn’t answer them. Ann did. Even if you had tried, you wouldn’t have gotten a word in. 
You left with another appointment scheduled and an endless list of rules. No caffeine, no lunch meat, no hot baths, only sleep on your side... Your body is a prison. It always has been but now, it’s like solitary confinement. Dark and isolating. You can’t see the way out. 
You sit in the back of the car, staring at the seat in front of you. Like a child. She didn’t stop you from sitting back there but you can’t sit beside her. Maybe she prefers it too. Her touch has always said more than her words. She despises you. 
The colours of the city blur. Pallid and dull with the late dregs of winter. You hug yourself and a new tide of nausea overwhelms you as you touch your stomach. You try not to. It’s a reminder. You’re not showing yet, not there, but in other ways. You can feel it even if you can’t see it. 
Ann sighs as she rolls slowly down the suburban street. You recognise the brick house. You rarely see the outside of it. She hits the button below the rear view mirror and the garage door opens. You know what they do. They don’t let you out of the car outside, only in the garage. They’re hiding you. 
As she pulls in, you slump against the door. She unlocks the doors and clicks the button on her belt. You unhook your own seat belt and follow her at a delay. It’s easier to just do everything she wants. 
She hums as she stands, “oof, I’m sore,” she complains, “will you get the door.” 
You nod and go to the button mounted on the wall. Before you can hit it, a grizzly voice wafts through the frigid air, blowing in with the wind under the open garage door. Your hand lingers before the close button but doesn’t hit it. 
A man ducks to see through, “hi, excuse me,” he says as he raises a hand above him to grip the metal, “I’m looking to deliver a package...” 
“Oh, a package?” Ann echoes, “I’m not expecting anything.” 
“Uh, yeah, it’s for... Dr. Steve Kemp?” He shifts the flat box under his arm to read it. “It’s pretty cold out here. Think you can take it off my hands?” 
“Why, of course,” she strides along the length of the car, “I’m his wife.” 
The man nods as she approaches and his grey blue eyes wander over to you. His dark stubble refines the angle of his jaw as a tuque covers his hair. You squint. He’s familiar but you don’t know how. He stares for a moment then hands over the package, “just sign here.” 
He takes out his phone and presents it to her. She drags her finger over the screen then pulls back to examine the box, “thank you, sir. Bit late for a delivery.” 
“Got backed up with the ice up on the freeway. Everyone’s taking the back roads today.” 
“Ah, makes sense,” she says, “well, you have a good day.” 
“You as well, ma’am.” 
He backs up and marches off without another look or word in your direction. She looks down at the box and rolls her eyes. She backs up.  
“Close the door. It’s freezing.” 
You tap the button and the door descends with the thrum of the motor above. You wait for her to go inside first before you follow. You hear the kids and Steve’s low timbre. You wonder why the courier didn’t knock on the front door. Maybe he did but couldn’t be heard. The TV is blaring as the kids giggle and holler. 
“Steve,” Ann calls out as you leave your shoes on the mat, “you got a delivery.” 
He doesn’t answer. She keeps on down the hall and drops the package on the side table against the wall. She stops to peer into the front room. 
“Honey,” she says curtly, “package.” 
“Alright,” he says, slightly agitated as he helps Harper build blocks into a castle. “Thanks. Any idea what it is?” 
“I don’t know. Looked like more of those magazines. Aren’t those supposed to go to your office?” 
“Could be an old subscription,” he shrugs. You stand back in the shadows but he finds you, “how’d it go?” 
“Fine. She’s on track. She’ll have a scan next week,” she sniffs. “You made a mess in here.” 
“The kids are bored. It’s too cold to go outside,” he grumbles. 
“As long as I’m not the one cleaning it up,” she tuts. 
“Love you too, honey,” Steve says dryly.  
“Got enough to worry about with the baby...” she mutters, “I’m thinking of sending out a card as an announcement.” 
“Ann, really? No one cares about a third kid,” he chuckles. 
“I care,” she snips. “Aren’t you excited?” 
“Of course I am. I just don’t see why it needs to be a whole broadcast.” 
You shrink away from their argument as the children give pause at their parents’ tones. They might be young but there’s an obvious tension there. You don’t dare interrupt. 
“It’s a big deal,” she growls. “It’s almost dinner time. Did you take out the chicken like I asked?” 
“I promised the kids pizza. Figured we’d order.” 
“Pizza? It’s so expensive these day--” 
A knock cuts her off and she winces. She huffs and shakes her head. “Busy day.” 
“Could be Jeff. He borrowed my drill.” 
“Tell him to keep it,” she ignores the door and struts back down the hall. “You never use it anyway.” 
You flatten yourself against the wall to let her pass. You stare up the stairs, wondering if you should just go and hide. When they need you, they’ll find you. 
“Get the door, will ya, sweetie?” Steve says. 
You hesitate. That’s all you are these days. A thing to be used. You’re not a person to them. Just a means to an end. You nod. 
You go down the hall to the door. You’re nervous. You don’t like strangers. You’ve had enough of them for the day. All those nurses poking and prodding and preening over that thing inside of you. 
Just get it over with. You make yourself open the door. 
Before you can say a word, you’re name whispers with the wind. You’re seized and pulled into a hug. You barely catch a glimpse before the woman has you in her arms. You can smell her. She always smells of cinnamon. 
“You’re alive,” she says. “Oh my god, you’re alive.” 
“Huh?” You wriggle in confusion, “Amber?” 
“I’ve been...” she loosens her hold but keeps her hands on your arms. “I’ve been looking for you. All these months. I’ve been...” her eyes gleam with tears. “I’ve been so afraid.” 
You’re frozen by more than the chill creeping in around her. Something cracks. Like a toothpick between your fingers, you feel it. All those weeks of hiding behind a wall, of telling yourself not to feel, to just get through it. It’s more than her being there, it’s the care and gentleness in her touch. That’s different. 
She lets you go and holds you at arm’s length, “hey, bub, what’s... you okay? Come on, let’s go home.” 
You blink at her. You look around at your eyes burn with a glimmer of tears, “what?” 
“Home, bubba. Please.” 
“Why?” You breathe. 
“Why? Because...” her voice trails off as you sense a shadow behind you. 
You turn as Steve stands in the doorway, his hands on his childrens’ shoulders. His eyes narrow and his jaw squares, “kids, go find your mother.” 
“Daddy?” Avery says. 
He hushes her and nudges them both down the hall. They run up the stairs and he turns to face you. And Amber. You don’t like the way he looks at her. 
“Ah, took you long enough,” he steps up next to her. “Right, dove? She really took her time. Almost like she doesn’t care at all.” 
You look between them, a sinking sensation rising in your chest. “What?” 
You can’t understand any of it. That wall is slowly crumbling. The only protection you have from any of this. The only thing keeping you from destroying yourself. 
“As if you do, doctor!” Amber snaps.  
He snorts, “as far as I have it, I’m the only one who ever tried to help you find her. Thanksgiving wasn’t that long ago, was it? You can’t blame me for your lack of follow up--” 
“Bullshit,” Amber snarls, her tone and words frightening you. “I’ve been searching for months. I’ve been tearing my hair out and you’ve had her all this time. Do you understand what that man’s been doing? He just sits outside my house and--” She throws her hands up, “you’re just like him.” 
“I’m helping this poor woman escape years of abuse and neglect. Neglect of her mental wellbeing, narcissistic abuse, using her to prop yourself up--” 
“I never—she's my sister. I take care of her.” 
“You do, Amber? So where have you been?” Steve chuckles. 
She lunges forward but doesn’t reach Steve as he steps back and she’s caught from behind. Another man stands behind her, his arm hooked around her middle as he restrains her. It’s him, the delivery man. You recognise him now. He was on her Insta. 
“Amb, please, calm down,” he holds onto her, “shhh, come on. Everyone, let’s be calm.” 
His voice alone puts his words into effect. You feel calm. He slowly releases Amber and squeezes her sleeve. He looks between you and Steve.  
Steve grabs your wrist and pulls you behind him, “I should call the police. You’re disturbing my family--” 
“She’s my family,” Amber growls. “Bub, please, come home.” 
“This doesn’t have to be hostile,” the other man says. “We came here to bring her sister home. That’s all.” 
“She is home--” 
“Ask her,” Amber cries out. “Look at her. I know she wants to come home. Right, bubba? Ask her. Ask. Her.” Amber’s close to tears as she begs, “please. Listen to her. Why does no one listen to her?” 
The words hit you like a punch in the gut. She’s right. No one listens, not if you don’t say what they want. No one but her. Your sister. The only person you ever had. The one who kept you behind her when your mother was having one of her fits, the one who told you to lock the door when the screaming got loud, the one who held you even when it hurt too much to be touched. 
The one who loves you.  
“Home. I want to go home,” you say and try to push past Steve. He turns and holds you, an arm across your chest. “No, home. With her. Amber--” 
You reach for her but he keeps you from getting to her. Amber extends her arm as you wriggle against the restraint. You stomp your feet and thrash. 
“This isn’t my home!” You holler. “This isn’t--” You’re breathless and dizzy. “Amber, help! Amber!” 
“Let her go, man,” the other man says. He’s taller than Steve. He steps up, filling the doorway. 
“Curtis,” Amber whines. 
“She’s not fit. She’s manic. Having an episode. You don’t understand. She’s in treatment. I’m a doctor--” 
“She says she wants to go.” That man, Curtis, grits through his teeth. 
“What is the meaning of this?” Ann snarls sourly as she comes down the stairs, “there are children in this house.” 
“Shouldn’t be,” Curtis sneers. “The meaning is simple. We came for her, we’re not leaving without her.” 
“And who the fuck are you, pal?” Steve puts himself between you and the door. Ann latches onto your wrist and tugs you back. 
“Let her go!” Amber cries out. 
You twist your wrist free as the room tilts and spins around you. Your head bobbles as you look around at the hazy figures. You back up and turn, racing away from the chaos. You hear your sister wail and that man she’s with snarls. There’s footsteps and a clamour. A mess all around. 
You hurl yourself upwards and stumble over the top step. You’re not thinking, just doing. You burst into the guest room and tear open the drawer in the nightstand. You grab your sweater and your journal and a few random pieces of clothing. You bundle it all up and charge back out. 
“Fuck off of her!” Curtis barks. 
“She’s trespassing,” Steve snarls. 
“Oh, stop it! Stop it!” Ann shrieks, “would you stress a pregnant woman like this? Oh my, oh my!” 
You barrel back down the stairs and stop at the bottom. You look at Ann as she touches her stomach. You curl your lip and the realisation startles on you. Locking you up in the room, not letting you out front, keeping you inside all day long... 
“What is all that?” She turns on you. “You’re not going anywhere.” 
“Come on, bub,” Amber shouts as Ann grabs your ear. “Let her go, you bitch!” 
Steve slips in his socks as he tries to hold her back. He flies back as Curtis throws him into the wall and stomps forward. Ann cries out and cowers away as the sting of her pinch throbs in the shell of your ear. 
“Shoes,” Curtis snarls, “go get em.” 
You look down as he glances at your feet. He turns back and grabs Steve by the back of his sweater and drags him away from Amber. He spins him by the shoulder and pins him to the wall. He snaps his fingers. 
“Amb, help her find her shoes.” 
Amber squeezes by and Ann moves toward you. Your sister puts her arm across you and steps up to the other woman. 
“Touch her again and I’ll rip your pretty hair out,” Amber lurches as if she might actually do it. Ann shies away with a screech. 
“Please, please, don’t hurt me,” she keeps her hand on her stomach, “you wouldn’t hurt a pregnant woman.” 
You shrink away and scuttle down the hall to the mat by the garage. You bend down the back of your sneakers as you step into them. You come back as Ann sobs. 
“Oh, please, we were only helping her,” she rocks against the wall. “Please, don’t hurt my husband. Steve, baby, are you okay?” 
“Fucking take her,” Steve shoves Curtis off of him as he kicks his foot into the wall. “She’s broken anyway. Can’t fix that.” 
Curtis staggers a single step and tilts his head dangerously. His hand balls to a fist. “That’s fucked up, doctor.” 
“Curt,” Amber puts her arm around your shoulders and ushers you forward, “let’s just go.” 
“Yeah, fucking run like you do from everything, Dove. Isn’t that how it goes?” Steve snarls. 
You stop beside him and waver. Amber stops too. You look at her and nod. You pull away and she lets you go. You face Steve with watery eyes. 
“You’re evil. I hate you.” You say. “You don’t deserve those children. Or mine.” 
His eyes flare and he stands straight. Curtis looms and you turn away. You walk forward and Amber follows. You don’t look back. You can’t. You’re going home. 
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sarahowritesostucky · 8 months ago
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Sexuality Profile: Andy
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The main thing about Andy is that he likes power and control.
Not in a hardcore BDSM way, mind you. Oh no. He's a true Daddydom.
Mature Content below the break. Consume Responsibly.
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He really loves to just have you be his good girl who's always going to listen to him and be sweet and needy for him. His wife is frigid, so he loves having a woman who is always ready and willing. He likes feeling wanted for a change.
So he's definitely the most "Daddy" of all your five guys, and he knows it because you tell him all the time. You call him Daddy waaay more than you do Ari, Lloyd, Kemp, or Bucky.
When you're with him, he's in complete control - and that's how you like it! He takes over so you don't have to worry about anything. Gone is the usually calculating, business savvy sex worker. In her place? A vulnerable, sweet girl.
You wouldn't characterize it as "age play," what you two do. It's more so just focused on a power imbalance dynamic: He's the smart, in charge, capable one; and you're the innocent, helpless, dumb(ish) one. It's a persona you fall into for him, and yet it doesn't feel like 'acting' at all. You love the escape of getting to be a sweet dumb thing for him.
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Andy and Kemp are the only ones of your five who are married (Ari's divorced). Now, Kemp is just completely disengaged from his wife, but you don't get the sense that he minds her.
Andy minds Laurie. He is very unhappily married and would prefer to be divorced, but the stakes are too high (finances, custody of his son). There is ... something else, though.
You don't know what, but there is something dark in his past that Laurie knows about and holds over him. Andy once did something to protect his son Jacob, and you have your suspicions, but he shuts down whenever you ask (so you don't ask).
Whatever is is, you know he's stuck living in a house with a woman he hates.
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So for Andy in particular, you really do serve as an escape. You're everything his wife Laurie isn't: submissive, kind, caring, young and sweet, accommodating, and sensual.
He's been diminished and emasculated by his wife for so long, you're like a breath of fresh air to him. You're a place he can come to relax, indulge ...
... and even vent. Out of all your daddies, Andy is the most into spanking.
And for him it's not just a spur of the moment kind of thing. Sure, he'll give you a playful swat during sex, but he also has rules and discipline set in place for you and will calmly punish you with spankings when you fall short.
One of your favorite places to be is over his lap on the bed, his steady voice asking if you're comfortable "before we get started," his hands caressing lightly all over your bum before that first, dedicated smack comes down.
Andy knows how to spank, and his big, masculine hands can pack a wallop. He'll usually let you grind, or situate a vibrating toy under you while he spanks. It's only if you've really done bad that he'll spank you without any stimulation at all.
Now, you like smacks during sex just fine, but you never imagined that you could get so wet from grinding your clit against your daddy's thigh while he punishes you.
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You've discovered a lot of things about yourself, thanks to your five daddies, and with Andy the biggest realization you've come to is that you crave having a big, strong, kind and bossy man in control of you. In fact you thrive on it. After so many years of hustling and being "that boss bitch," you're tired of the grind and of having to constantly look out for yourself because no one else will. Andy is a relief to you, in that way.
You call him Daddy a lot, and sometimes "Mr. Barber," when you're being saucy or playful (and it's an instant boner from him when you do).
Andy's favored pet names for you are "babygirl," "sweetheart," and "little one/little miss."
He thrives on making you feel safe and cared for. He loves that protector and provider role. Whenever something upsets you with one of the other guys, he can always tell (and he'll spank, tickle, or edge you until he finally gets the answers out of you.)
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Andy and you have a game you play. You'll snuggle together on the couch and you'll both let your hands roam as you watch the movie, teasing and touching and rubbing each other until the end credits roll. It's it's own weird little sort of tantra: playful, teasing, and guaranteed to have you dripping wet by the end of the movie.
Like Ari, Andy is a big fan of morning sex. He almost always wakes up hard, and he loves to just roll you over and press you down into the bedding, plastered to your back with the lube bottle in hand and coaxing you to just close your eyes and "Let Daddy put it in."
Of all your guys, Andy spends the most time at your apartment. He has a desk there because he works so much, and you have a semi-regular routine of sitting beneath his desk and cockwarming/playing with him. It's a favorite activity of yours (especially during his teleconferences).
Andy loves your womanly body, and he's always grabbing and groping you--even parts that you get squirmy and whiny about when he does (he doesn't care he does it anyway).
He loves to see you in lacy, girlish, innocent things--again, not so much an ageplay thing as it is a sweetness and power imbalance thing. Andy's wife refuses to dress up in "silly things" for him, but you are more than happy to accommodate him.
Since the two of you spend so much time just being snuggly together in the apartment, you always either wear cute and tempting loungewear/pajamas, or else very short skirts/dresses with flirtatious thigh high stockings.
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Andy was the first of the Daddies that you met. And he's very typical of the sort of "unhappily married and seeking affection"-type clients you used to get a lot of.
He was much more unhappy then and was more controlling and slightly rougher with you for those first few months, but he's mellowed out the longer he's had you and gotten his needs met.
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Fun fact: when you first met him, you were considering getting a labiaplasty, but he absolutely put his foot down and forbid it, because he loves that you're "an outie" as he calls it. He told Ari this information, and now the two of them both make a habit of paying extensive attention to playing with your lips when they go down on you, making their point that you'd better never even think about it.
He likes having anal with you. But since you actively dislike it, he only asks for it on very special occasions, and when he can't have that he still likes to rim you and finger you as part of foreplay. When you do let him, he spends an obscene amount of time getting you ready and making sure you've cum at least once before he puts it in.
His favorite position is you on top to start (because he knows you cum fast that way), and him on top to finish.
And his one fantasy that he hasn't yet confided/fulfilled? He wants to have a threesome with you and Ari. (He'd really love to DP, but he knows that's not likely to happen, because you've told him about Ari's ... size.)
And a secondary fantasy: he wouldn't mind cucking Lloyd - he hates that guy.
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If there's something you want to know about Sugar Baby and any of the five daddies, feel free to shoot me an ask!
Five Daddies Imagines Masterlist
Masterlist
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undescribed1mage · 11 months ago
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just so you know. they're My Doctor Who AU Davey, Kath, & Jack.
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hockey team thickness - Los Angeles Kings 2024 VERSION (roster as of 27.07.2024)
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lakings9 · 1 year ago
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Credit: LA Kings
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highfalutin-son-of-a-gun · 7 months ago
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“a regular beat for a star reporter!”
davey im literally giggling and kicking my feet
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regina-cordium · 1 year ago
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🎶we’re front page neeeeeewwwws, above the foooold🎶
Oh yes! Above! The fold!
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metallicmikus · 14 days ago
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David Jacobs
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David Moscow - Newsies Movie, 1992
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Jason Michael Snow - Newsies Workshop, 2010
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Ben Fankhauser - Paper Mill Playhouse, Broadway, & Newsies Live, 2011 - 2014 & 2017
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Jacob Kemp - National Tour, 2014 - 2015
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Stephen Michael Langton - National Tour, 2015 - 2016
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Ryan Kopel - Troubadour Wembley Park Theatre, 2022 - 2023
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Ryan R. - Grosse Pointe Theatre, May 2024
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Ben Diamond - Theatre Under The Stars, May 2024
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Pickleville Playhouse, August 2024
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justinspoliticalcorner · 21 days ago
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Oliver Willis at Daily Kos:
On Saturday, federal agencies were forced to move employees assisting with hurricane recovery efforts in North Carolina, following reports of a militia threat against the Federal Emergency Management Agency. The incident follows days of Donald Trump and his allies in conservative media promoting lies about Hurricane Helene and the federal response. The Washington Post reported that federal officials have confirmed the authenticity of the advisory that was sent out to multiple federal agencies.  “FEMA has advised all federal responders Rutherford County, NC, to stand down and evacuate the county immediately,” the Post quoted from the email, adding that recipients were advised that the National Guard “had come across x2 trucks of armed militia saying there were out hunting FEMA” and that the agency was “coordinating the evacuation of all assigned personnel in that county.” Officials told the Post that the first responders who were moved were delivering supplies in the region and clearing trees from damaged and blocked roads being used by search and rescue crews assisting victims of the storm.
Over the weekend, the Rutherford County Sheriff’s Office announced that charges have been filed against a man identified as William Jacob Parsons for allegedly threatening FEMA workers in western North Carolina. Police said that Parsons was armed with a handgun and a rifle at the time of his arrest. Investigators say he acted alone, according to Fox 8. Gov. Roy Cooper released a statement on the issue on Monday that said, “We are aware of significant misinformation online and reports of threats to response workers on the ground and the safety of responders must be taken seriously.” The conservative movement, led by Trump, has promoted an avalanche of lies about Hurricane Helene and Milton and the federal response to the devastating weather events. Trump claimed after Helene hit that the Biden-Harris administration was “not responsive” to requests for help from Georgia officials, a statement refuted by Gov. Brian Kemp—a Republican who backs Trump.
The consequences of right-wing conspiracy theories being normalized: Armed militias made threats to hunt FEMA workers, forcing such workers to leave Rutherford County, North Carolina.
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noxexistant · 2 months ago
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a side effect of making the timeline gifsets is having direct comparisons of how different actors portray the characters, and i have to say - i love how loud jacob kemp davey is, especially in wwh reprise. he is excited and has just forgotten/forsaken all social norms. he’s getting in jack’s face and shouting, he’s shoving and hitting him, shouting across the room even when jack is trying to walk away from him.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Don't Speak 46
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp
Note: yeah.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You stay in the room for much of the day. You’re not sure what else to do. The house is empty. You feel small. Lonely. 
As you think about the way things were before, you feel woozy. Not Andy, but Amber. When she went to work, the house was quiet but you didn’t feel so desolate. You knew she would come home and when she did, everything would be okay. 
Even if you could go home, you shouldn’t. Steve says you’re not ready. You don’t feel ready. You don’t have anything. In fact, you have even less than when you left. You think you might even be even more broken than before. 
As the day wears on, so do your nerves. You take out the tablet, your stomach mulching nervously, and you turn it on. You try to draw but your hand is shaky. Then you just stare at the screen, anxious as a thought needles in your head. 
You tap the icon for the camera app. Andy moved the camera but it’s still on. It’s in his bedroom. You shudder. He’s not there but the bed is a mess and your things are strewn over the floor. At least, from what you can see. 
A notification pops up at the top of the application; you have unreviewed footage, tap to review. You hesitate before you press your finger down. A page full of frames pops up and you scroll down, squinting. You see Andy, sitting on the bed, laying down, and even looking into the camera. 
You hit play on a frame. He’s snarling into the lens, “come back, Dove! Please. Why are you doing this? You’re hurting me--” you drag your finger to skip through then let go. “If you don’t, I might just do something. I have to make sure you’re okay, Dove. I love you, honey. You know I can’t do nothing. I will do anything to make sure you’re safe.” 
You hit the back button several times and throw the tablet to the end of the bed. That was a mistake. The blaze in his blue eyes clings to you. You don’t know what he meant but his threats crawl over your skin like insects. You shudder and scratch your neck restlessly. 
After some time, you find the strength to get up and put the tablet away. It’s all you have now. It’s not just a window into what you ran away from, but to Amber. When you’re ready, you’ll message her. You’ll tell her you got free and that you’re better. Just not right now. Not yet. But you’ll get there. 
🕊️
When Ann gets home, she comes into your room without knocking. She treats you like a child as she tells you to make your bed. You do it as she struts out. When she returns, she throws something onto the foot of the mattress. 
“Put that on, sweetheart. You want to look nice for dinner.” 
She smiles, her lips a perfect shade of candy apple red. You reach for the dress but as you do, she nears. She cups your chin and makes you look at her. Her eyes skim your face and she pokes her lips out. 
“You are so delicate and young...” she says. Closer, you see how her foundation cakes in her wrinkles. She looks older as shadows pool around her eyes. “Aren’t you, dear? So gentle and soft and...” she shoves you back and you stumble, “easy.” 
“Ann?” You squeak. 
“What’s the matter, baby? Last night was delicious, wasn’t it,” he grabs you by the shoulders and angles you against the bed, “you taste so good.” She urges you back until you’re forced to sit. “A good girl,” she grins and pushes until you lay back. You quiver, helpless. “Yes, you stay like that.” 
She drags her hands down your body and squeezes your chest. She purrs and kneads through the shirt. She teethes her lips and steps back, running her hands up and down her torso as she shimmies. She trails down to the skirt of her dress and slowly tugs it upward. 
You push yourself up on your elbows, “I can help cook--” 
She hushes you and a rocky giggle rolls in her throat. He bunches her skirt above her hips, revealing a pair of black panties, and she rubs the fabric with a hum. She drones and lets out a gasp. 
“I’m so wet, baby,” she slithers, “you want to taste?” 
“Ann, I... please...” 
You sit up completely and she rips her hands from between her thighs. She shoves you and you bounce onto your back again. 
“This is my house, you are my little slut, so be quiet,” she hisses. 
“I... I’m not--” 
“What do you call a girl who seduces her therapist, hm? And a married man at that?” She snarls as she steps closer. “You’re lucky I’m not a vindictive woman.” 
You look at her in horror, “no, I didn’t--” 
She hushes you again and tuts as pushes her panties to the side. She touches herself again and drones as her eyes roll up. She pulls her fingers away and shows you the glisten. 
“You’re a cute little thing. I like it,” she steps up and bends over you as she grabs your chin and pokes her fingers against your lips. You open as her painted nails poke against you and she rams in until you gag. “Mmm, see how wet I am for you. You made a mess of me and now you have to clean it up.” 
She moves to straddle you, climbing over you as you lay paralysed in shock. What is she doing? You squeak and clasp onto the bedspread as you close her eyes. 
“Come on, baby,” she hovers over your face, “have a taste.” 
She lowers her cunt until it meets your lips. You whimper and tweaks your ear, “don’t be a bad girl. Open up.” 
You whine and obey. The sickly sweat taste of her flesh stains your lips and seeps into your mouth. She clutches a wad of your hair and pulls your head up into her. 
“Get your tongue out,” she demands as she tilts your head and her hips. You push your tongue through your lips as you cling to the blankets. Your eyes sting as she smothers you, grinding into your face. “That’s it, baby, oooh, so soft. Move your tongue—yeah, like that.” 
The noise of your mouth and the smear of her arousal sickens you. Worse than anything, is your helplessness. Yet, you can’t hate her for this. She’s right. Steve is her husband and you’re here, distracting him, doing those things with him. 
“Mmm, yes, oh, I see why he likes you so much. Oh, baby, I want to see you suck his cock just like this.” She bucks faster, until you’re suffocated in her. You shake as she uses you, rolling her hips harder until your head is spinning. “Mmm, here I--” 
She bites down on a grunt and spasms, rocking into your face until she stills. She stops, breathless, dripping onto you as you pant breathlessly. She curls her shoulders as she leans on her hands and snickers. 
“Wow, that was...” 
“Ann,” Steve’s voice rumbles through the open door. 
“Ah, there you are,” she wiggles, spreading the mess across your face before she climbs off of you, “wanna join?” 
“The kids are home,” he hisses and steps inside, closing the door. “They’re watching Bluey.” 
You can hear the TV blaring. You turn your face away from him as he stomps toward the bed. You’re mortified as Ann’s scent wafts in your nose. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Enjoying our little toy,” Ann snips. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.” 
“Get out,” he snarls. 
“Oh, don’t be like that--” 
“Out,” he repeats. 
She huffs and taps away on her heels, grumbling before she sweeps through the door with a creak and a snap. The bed dips and you flinch as Steve touches your arm. You squeak and try to roll away. He holds onto you. 
“Dove, hey, I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” 
You sniff and wipe your face. You swallow and turn your head straight. It’s just new. That’s all. It’s like he said. You’re all together. And if you get to be with him, then it’s not so bad. 
You grab onto his forearm and pull yourself to sit up. You look at him through glittering tears. You hook your arm around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. He coos and rubs your back. 
“Oh, sweetie, it's okay, I'm here now,” he hugs you back. “It’s alright.”
His hand trails down your back as you cling to him. Slowly he follows the curve of your bottom and traces along your leg. A shiver flutters through you. You pull back and look him in the face. 
“Dinner...” 
“I’ll let the kids know you’re not feeling well,” he lowers himself down on his side, taking you with him. Your chest pumps wildly. “Let’s just stay like this, huh?” 
He tickles along the back of your thigh and you moan. His touch feels so nice. Not like Andy’s. No, you don’t feel afraid. You drags your hand back and touch his chest. He’s strong. You believe him when he says he wants to take care of you. 
“I wanna try it again,” you whisper. 
“Hmm?” He arches a brow. 
You look down at his pants then at his face. You giggle and pet his sweater. You move closer and bend your leg around him. 
“I want to have sex. With just you.” 
His forehead creases and his throat bobs. His eyes search you and he nods.  
“Alright, sweetie, but we gotta be quiet, right?” 
You nod and a smile blooms in your cheeks. He brushes his hand along your bent leg then lurches all at once. He pins you under him as he turns you onto your back. You gasp and he shakes his head. You seal your lips to keep your voice inside. 
He feels along your thigh and beneath the hem of your shirt. You never put on any panties. You’re in the same shirt he gave you that morning. 
As he delves along your folds, you’re already wet. It’s a surprise. Was it Ann or him? You don’t know and you don’t care. His touch feels so good. He plays with you gently, flicking you clit, twirling around it, pressing down until you’re squirming. 
He growls and dips his fingers into you. He rocks his hand as he pushes down on your clit, tension clustering in his palm. He moves his arm steadily as you groan and push your head back. 
“Sweetie, shhhh,” he warns as he pulls his hand free, “you’re being a bad girl.” 
He shifts his weight, holding his pelvis up, and pushes heavy on one knees. His zipper whispers down and his belt clinks open. You reach down to help shove down his pants. A swell of desperation surges inside you.  
He holds himself over you as he guides his tip along your cunt. You feel along his back and he sinks into you. You squeak and he catches your voice in his hand as he covers your mouth. You clench around him as he bottoms out. 
He nuzzles your neck and sighs as he wiggles his pelvis. Your moans are muffled in his hand, muted by his weight on your chest. He teethes at your throat as he starts to thrust. Slow, long, strokes that tickle your insides.  
Friction burns between you. Fire seethes in your veins as you arch into him. He snakes his hand up your shirt and fondles your chest as he ruts harder and harder. He keeps your mouth trapped, his knuckles blocking your breath as he shakes the bed. The clap of his flesh echoes louder and louder. 
Your lashes droop and your drift beneath them, carried away by a tide of dazed delight. He bites your neck as he grunts and groans, growling as he pinches your flesh. You twitch and cum around him, swathing him in your arms. 
He keeps going. Harder and faster. He sucks and nips at your flesh, until it hurts, until you’re eyes are wet with tears. The delight gives way to terror as your bones ache with each thrust and his teeth threaten to cut through your skin. You can’t breath as his large hand smothers you. 
“Oh, oh, sweetie, I'm going to cum,” he rasps against your shoulder, “yeah, I’m gonna... inside... oh, you’re so warm, so good.” He chuffs as his body tenses, the fabric of his sweater rough against your lower stomach, his pants chafing your thighs, the buckle snapping and clinking. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Mm, yes, sweetie.” 
You clasp onto his wrist as you peek out from under your heavy eyelids. You vision speckles with flashes of his snarling face. Your head pulses and your lungs burn. You try to move his hand so you can get air but he’s too strong. He’s too caught up to notice as he fucks through his climax and you feel him spill into you. 
The world ripples as drops onto you, puffing and panting, droning in his afterglow. You cough as finally he drags his hand away. He cups your cheek and kisses the other as his balmy breath dampens your skin. 
“Is that what you wanted?” He sneers, “you bad, bad girl.” 
You wince as your body tingles from hot to cold, “bad? I’m not bad.” 
“No, baby, you’re good,” he pushes deep into you. “You’re so good taking all of me.” 
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