#sag awards dinner

[noah-and-ashby]

Nikki and Noah at the SAG Awards dinner

[unladyboss]

PICTURE WITHIN A PICTURE

If you look over SYDNEY'S head to the left you'll see a photo on the wall. It looks like Carmy and Richie had been there together before

So meta

[sincericida]

Andrew Garfield in 2023 so far:

Go Andrew, go ❤️

[gaybuckybarnesss]

TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ SAG Awards Ambassador Dinner 2024

[experienceandobservation]

Taylor Zakhar Perez | SAG Awards Ambassador Dinner | February 20, 2024 | 📷 Chelsea Lauren

[vivwritescrappythings]

Unfair

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

an au about Joel attending a wedding simply inspired by Pedro's slutty little fit at the SAG awards.

part 2

tw: age gap (late 20s/late 40s), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, alcohol, she/her pronouns, reader has hair long enough to twist around her finger, Joel is probably poorly written in this, and this whole thing is a little poorly written.

word count: 7.2k

MDNI

masterlist

–

Your mom was smiling as you zipped her into her gown, the chiffon and lace dress gorgeous on her as you fastened the eyelet closed at the top of the bodice. You could feel the lens of the photographer’s camera trained on you both, the woman having been with you the entire morning to document the process of the bridal party getting ready. 

The photographer was fluttering around the room, taking candid photos of you all making small talk and toasting mimosas. The posed photos had been earlier that morning, you all wearing your matching silk robes with your names screen-printed on the back. You didn’t know how much had been spent on the whole production–but it certainly wasn’t cheap. But, to see your mom glowing and her wide smile all morning, every penny must have been more than worth it.

Before you realized, you all wore dresses and bouquets of white flowers with magnificent greenery were being thrust in your hands. The wedding planner was ushering everyone out onto the stone walkway to the barn, women finally meeting men just outside the farmhouse turned wedding venue. The best man looked vaguely familiar to you as you placed your hand in the crook of his elbow to walk down the aisle, he must have been Shawn's eldest brother.

The officiant droned: he just repeated the same platitudes of what it means to love one another and be good spouses. You tried to stay focused, your eyes inevitably wandering. The ceremony space was picturesque: southern live oaks casting shadows in the late autumn sun as they married in front of the barn. It really couldn’t get more Texas than that, especially when you counted the number of cowboy hats in the crowd. 

You could feel someone staring at you for the better part of the ceremony, making you glance out of the corner of your eye as you tried to find the source. Every fiber of you wanted to turn and look in earnest, but you knew that you’d ruin the photos as soon as your body twisted and your happy, grinning face wasn’t facing the bride and groom on the best day of their lives. 

Your grip tightened around the bouquet in your hands as your skin crawled, your focus so jarred that you almost missed your cue to walk out. The cheers and clapping woke you from your reverie before the best man had to. Grasping him by the elbow, you walked back up the aisle between the celebrating wedding guests, the feeling of being watched now fading to the background.

—

When you finally made it to the renovated barn, you were starving and in desperate need of a drink. The photos had run long, the photographers getting you all in a variety of line ups and poses. It was almost time for the plated dinner to begin, guests settling at assigned tables after a cocktail hour and the live band playing quiet music in the corner of the half-inside half-outside space that would eventually serve as the dance floor.

The orange lighting from string lights along the ceiling was soft, mismatched Edison bulbs hanging along zigzagged wires from wooden rafters. It painted the guests and decor in gold tones, making everything look sepia like an old photo.

With your double shot vodka tonic in hand, you found your name written in gold calligraphy on the seating chart. Your mom and her new husband were sitting together at a small table at the front of the room, a faux-neon sign behind them that displayed his last name. Well, their last name now. 

You were at one of the front tables, the ivory table cloth nearly brushing the shiny wooden floor as you plucked your name card off your plate and sat down. There were only a few people you knew at the wedding, neighbors from the neighborhood you grew up in and a handful of your mother’s coworkers. But, they were seated elsewhere. 

Some of the seats on the opposite side of the sprawling white and green centerpiece were occupied with strangers in flamboyant cowboy hats and boots, an obvious sign they were from out of town. You smiled politely as you sat down, taking a long sip of your drink as you checked your phone for the moment of downtime. 

“This seat taken?” A deep, twangy voice made your gaze cut away from the screen and up to the right. You were immediately dumbstruck by how handsome the man was, his umber colored eyes reminding you of the sunlight hitting the tree trunks during the ceremony. A few of his dark brown curls were falling on his tanned forehead, the rest of his hair loosely pushed back. 

You floundered for a moment, lips parting and no words coming out of your mouth. Finally you caught up, blinking a few times. The place card in front of the ornate gold and white place setting next to yours was your saving grace. “Well, uh, if you’re Joel M., the seat is all yours,” you said, looking back up at him.

God, you hoped he was Joel.

He smiled, the lines on his face becoming a bit more defined as he extended a hand toward you. “Joel Miller, nice to meet you…” he trailed off, waiting for your assistance. 

You slipped your hand into his, his calloused palm engulfing yours as he shook it politely. You introduced yourself, neck craned back so you could look him in the eye. He released your hand and sat down, setting the glass he was holding next to yours on the table cloth. 

“So how do you know the couple?” Joel asked you, his gaze dragging over you. You tried not to squirm under the weight of it, your face feeling hot as you set your phone face-down on the table. The way he looked at you made you feel like a bug caught under a microscope.

“The bride is my mom,” you said, fiddling with the elegantly folded cloth napkins for a moment. You glanced at her briefly, watching her giggle at something Shawn had said. 

Joel nodded, a huff of a laugh following. “No shit, so you’re the stepdaughter?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as a smirk lifted the corner of his lip. One of your eyebrows lifted of its own volition, his reaction catching you off guard.

“Do I have a reputation?” A sip of your drink helped wet your dry tongue, your eyes trained on him over the rim of your glass. There was a spike of anxiety in your chest, the temporary fear that he’d heard something bad about you filling your mind. You held your glass in your hand as you crossed your legs at the ankle, waiting for his response.

Joel paused to take a drink, a hand scrubbing over his beard as he looked back at you. He shook his head, waving a hand in a way that was meant to be placating. “Shawn told me about you, said you just moved back to town a few months ago.” 

“Um, yeah, actually. Moved back from Denver,” you said, bashful that the subject of you even came up. You hadn’t realized that you were important enough in Shawn’s life to mention, especially to his friends. Of course, there wasn’t animosity between the two of you, just what you assumed was limited interest. Most men didn't bother to learn too much about their adult stepchildren.

You were both leaning forward as you spoke, the music and chatter of the other guests making the barn a little too loud to hear one another clearly at a distance. He was looking down at his drink, giving you an opportunity to study his profile. Joel was easily twenty years your senior, the dark beard on his jawline threaded through with patches of silver hair. 

“So—“ Joel started, getting cut off by the shuffle of the last people to their seats and an arm thrust between the two of you. The waiters serving the plated dinner made you sit upright in your chair, the soft fabric of your dress fluttering as you put some space between Joel and yourself. 

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you took the first bite of your food, a sigh escaping you as your eyelashes batted against your cheeks. Conversation floated around your head, you caught polite questions about Joel’s construction business and half-assed replies.

For some reason your mother had put you at a table full of Shawn’s friends, maybe in an attempt to help you get to know him better.

“So you’re a contractor?” you asked after your hunger had been satiated. You’d gotten a refill on your drink from one of the waiters, nursing a fresh vodka tonic as you looked at Joel.

He chewed his steak methodically, nodding as he turned slightly to look at you. “Been building houses for years, my brother, Tommy, works with me,” Joel said after he swallowed, taking his cloth napkin off his wide thigh to wipe the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you like it?” you asked after a moment of contemplation, tilting your head to one side as you looked at him.

There was something about him that kept you smiling, your lips curved like a bow as you sipped your drink from the straw. You studied his features while you could, his aquiline nose and his full lower lip intriguing. Way too intriguing for someone who was your stepfather’s friend.

“Pays the bills, keeps the roof over me and Sarah’s heads.” Joel finished his plate, picking up his drink and leaning back in his seat. 

Sarah? Your eyes dropped to his left hand, not seeing a ring on any of the fingers. Not even a tan line. He noticed it, making your face burn as he chuckled. “Sarah? Your…”

“Daughter,” he cut in helpfully. Daughter, he had a daughter. You exhaled, relieved. But, did he have a wife? No ring, never mentioned her. He would’ve brought her up by now. She would've attended the wedding with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath as you rationalized.  

Your mouth opened to ask another question when glasses were chimed and dinner was cleared away. Champagne flutes were passed around, and to your horror you realized it was time for your toast. You stood in a fluid motion, adjusting your gown and your hair before heading toward the microphone next to the table with the bride and groom.

–

You spent the rest of the night getting drunk. Champagne became cocktails and cocktails became shots–all with your mother and new stepfather and family and friends from your childhood. Tipsiness made you remove your heels, kicking them off to the side to a forgotten corner as your aching feet pressed against the polished floor. 

The dance floor was cramped, the band having transitioned partway through the night to someone’s phone with a playlist hooked up to the speakers. You watched your mom laugh as she was spun around by her new husband, making you smile as you nursed your glass of wine. 

“You lost something.” Joel approached, pointing to your strappy heels with a lazy finger. 

You grinned, your teeth digging into your lower lip for a moment as you looked up at him. “Looks like you did, too–a few things actually,” you said, nodding toward his shucked suit jacket and tie. The top few buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing just enough of his tanned chest to feel dangerous. He was more disheveled than before, a chilled beer bottle held loosely in his fingers and his cheeks flushed.

Joel chuckled, taking a step closer to you as he took a long drink from his beer. You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, taking a sip of your red wine in tandem.

There was something about this man that had you all kinds of flustered, a giddy lightness in your chest when he focused his attention on you. “So why aren’t you out there dancing?” Joel asked, his warm eyes surveying the dance floor before returning.

You shook your head, a demure smile and a shrug. “Never was much of a dancer.” The last time you really danced was wasted at a frat party in college, the lights low and the music making the house shake. Far from a respectable barn wedding, and definitely not your mother’s respectable barn wedding. 

“That’s a shame,” Joel smiled at you, pressing just a bit closer, “a pretty girl like you should be out there.” 

You were surprised by the compliment, nearly choking on your wine as your eyebrows lifted. Joel was smirking, his whole body leaning toward yours. You were warm to the touch, your entire face burning under his attentions. It felt like you were in high school again, pining after some older boy that you assumed would never look at you twice–but here he was, looking.

“Do you always flirt with your friend’s stepdaughters?” you asked, hoping to come off as hard to get. Realistically, he already had you in the palm of his hand.

Joel pursed his lips, something mischievous flashing in his dark eyes for a moment. “Just the ones that look like you,” he said, his deep voice low. It was almost too quiet to hear over the music, making you shift forward so you could hear him better.

“Joel.” It would've been chastising if it wasn’t for your bright smile. He exuded an easy confidence that was magnetic, it had your nerves on fire as you selfishly hoped that he would do more than just flirt with you. Your gaze was on his lips for a moment, taking in the lines of his full bottom lip and tidy mustache before meeting his eyes again.

“The couple is getting ready to leave!” You both looked toward the door and watched the wedding planner usher guests out the barn doors. Sparklers were thrust in everyone’s hands, the photographer already positioned at the end of the walkway near the rented white Rolls Royce.

Joel’s hand found the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of your dress as he guided you toward the door. The wedding planner handed him two sparklers, the long kind that wobbled under their own weight. 

The guests had divided into two lines, waiters lighting sparklers on either side of the column created. Joel handed you one as you stood at his side, your bare feet on the warm concrete. You held it out from your body, focused on the bright sizzle of the sparks as they made their way down the lines of powder.

Your mother and Shawn walked through the column of sparklers on cue, laughing and smiling while holding hands. They looked so happy. You could hardly imagine being that happy with someone.

She broke off for a moment to embrace you, making Joel thoughtfully pluck the sparkler out of your fingers so you didn’t burn her. 

Tears pushed at your eyelids, overwhelming joy for your mother finally breaking free of your chest. You whispered ‘I love you’s into one another’s ears and pressed kisses to cheeks as you clung to each other. The photographer’s camera was shuttering nearby, catching every intimate moment.

Finally you let her go, tearful and smiling as Shawn pulled her toward the car that would take them to their hotel. Joel’s large hand found the curve of your waist, bringing you to his side as you watched your mother get into the car. 

You were tipsy enough to allow it.

He was warm, smelling like cigar smoke and whiskey and cologne. You both were quiet as you watched the car pull away, your shoulders fitting in the space between his arm and torso.

“You wanna help me find my jacket? Think I left it around back when I was smoking a cigar with Shawn,” Joel murmured into your hair. His fingers pressed into your waist, his breath on your neck.

It was enough to distract you. You blinked your tears away, fingertips brushing at the corners of your eyes to make sure your makeup was still intact. “Sure,” you whispered, looking up at him after you’d composed yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when Joel took your hand, tugging you along with him down the path on the outside of the barn. Both of you were tipsy, giggling and stumbling a bit over the paving stones that had been set in the tall grass. The lights faded behind you, the dim glow through the high windows of the barn and the solitary strand of Edison bulbs between the trees just enough to navigate by. 

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even know who initiated it. Joel’s calloused hands were cupping your cheeks and jaw, tilting your head up as your lips met his. He tasted like whiskey and the sweet wedding cake, making you sigh into the kiss as your fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled him close. 

You had to stand on your tip toes to kiss him properly, a few soft laughs escaping the both of you when the hard cartilage of your noses bumped and teeth clashed. 

He took steps forward until your shoulder blades pressed against the side of the barn. Joel crowded you in, one hand leaving your cheek to brace against the wood behind your waist as he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip. You could feel him smiling.

You always found French kissing to be weird, never knowing quite what to do with your tongue. Whenever a guy had initiated it you managed to cut it off quickly, moving on to some other method of making out to spare yourself the embarrassment of letting your tongue sit there like a dead fish.

Of course you’d seen people do it, always seeming like a lot more licking each other than kissing. Nevertheless, the second time Joel ran his tongue along the seam of your lips you found yourself parting them for him.

Suddenly, you understood. Joel’s tongue massaged over yours as he groaned softly. You wanted him to consume you, letting him take control as he explored your mouth. He tilted your head back more, leaning over you with his full height. You flicked your tongue along his, spine arching toward him in an attempt to get closer.

The horn of the hotel shuttle startled you as you broke apart, chests heaving and your lipstick smeared onto Joel’s mouth. 

“You staying at the same hotel as everyone else?” Joel asked, nosing at your hairline as his hands roamed over your dress. He bunched it in his fists, raising the hem above your calves and wrinkling the fabric.

“I am,” you breathed, twisting your fingers in his thick curls. 

Joel smiled against your earlobe, nipping at it. “Wanna continue this in my room? Got a king size bed and everything,” he drawled, pulling back to look down at you. There was a sparkle in his eyes, his smile was breathtaking.

You wiped your lipstick off his bottom lip with your thumb, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “You sure?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in a form of protection from Joel’s possible rejection. 

He offered, but there was still a part of you that was worried.

He furrowed his brow, a smile still on his face as he looked down at you in the dark. “'Course I’m sure. Go get your shoes, baby, and I’ll see you on the shuttle.” Joel spun you toward the nearest door to the barn, lightly smacking your ass go get you moving.

You yelped, swatting at his hand with a glare. 

“Go on, before I ruin that pretty dress of yours in the dirt out here,” he told you, a smirk on his face as he nodded his chin toward the door. You rolled your eyes, acquiescing to his instructions.

—

It took Joel no time to get you down the hall from the packed elevator and to his room. He clumsily tapped his keycard against the sensor, stamping kisses along the side of your neck as you giggled in the cage of his arms.

Finally he got it to unlock, tightening an arm around your waist as he pushed the door open. Joel took wide, staggered steps on either side of your body as he ushered you inside. 

As soon as the door snapped shut he was already lifting the bottom of your dress, kisses turning into bites on the curve of your neck. “Jo-el,” you whined through giggles as you grabbed the forearm he’d locked around your waist. 

“Unfair that you’re this fucking pretty,” he mumbled, making your face heat up as you tried to protest. Joel shushed you by grabbing a handful of the meat of your thigh, groaning in your ear. 

“How’s it unfair?” you managed to ask, your head spinning from the overwhelming presence of Joel. His rough, calloused hands were groping at your soft flesh, his lips sucking marks on your neck like you were teenagers. 

The room was relatively untouched, his open suitcase on the stand near the large windows on the far side of the room. The curtains were slightly open, moonlight filtering in. “S’unfair that I didn’t meet you sooner,” Joel said, scraping his blunt teeth over the sensitive spot just under your earlobe. You shivered in his arms.

He separated from you just enough to shuck his suit jacket that he had haphazardly put on for the shuttle, tossing it on the little sofa in the room. You turned after stepping out of your heels, linking your hands behind Joel’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Joel smiled into it, his hands grabbing your waist and holding you flush against his body. “You still wanna do this?” His fingers moved to your spine and played with the zipper on the back of your dress, looking down at you as he waited for your answer. "Don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” you murmured, carding your fingers in his thick curls.

Joel just groaned, pressing you flush against him as he captured you in another needy kiss. He pulled the zipper of your dress down in one fluid motion, making a shiver prickle up the length of your spine.

“Let me see ya, baby,” he said against your mouth, pulling the thick straps of your dress down your arms. 

You let the fabric pool at your feet, your sheer, skin-colored bra and panties leaving little to the imagination. A wave of insecurity flashed over you, your skin suddenly feeling stretched too tight over your body as your face and neck heated up. 

You were too aware of the parts of yourself that you didn’t like: the dimpled flesh on the outside of your thighs and the hairs you hadn’t plucked away because the wedding was the last place you thought you’d find a one night stand. A wobbly smile formed, your instinct making you bury your face in Joel’s neck to hide.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear his praise. His massive hands ran down your sides, thumbing at the mesh of your bra and panties before he started moving you backwards.

Your calves hit the bed, making you squawk in an unflattering way as Joel lowered you to the mattress. “You’re so gorgeous,” he breathed, his lips trailing down your neck until he was kissing and sucking at your sternum. He nudged your knees apart with his free hand, his other forearm planted on the mattress to hold his weight off of you. He slotted himself in the space between your thighs as his tongue laved over your nipple through the mesh fabric of your bra.

The noise that came out of your throat was embarrassing. Your breath turned into a strangled moan, eyebrows pinching together. The sensation only made your arousal increase tenfold, spine already arching to press your tit against his mouth. 

Joel chuckled, soft brown eyes ticking up to look at your face. “That sensitive?” he said, more of a statement than a question. You found yourself nodding anyway. He thumbed at your other nipple, making it bud against the thin fabric and pulling another whine from your throat. He snickered.

“Don’t tease,” you huffed, wiggling your hips and lightly squeezing his sides with your knees. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Joel muttered, a smile stretching on his lips as he rolled the pad of his thumb over your nipple again. He placed kisses along your stomach, making you suck in the soft flesh on reflex. His coarse facial hair tickled your skin, making you giggle a bit as he continued to work his way down your form.

“Just wanna taste ya, okay?” Joel asked, his broad shoulders between your spread thighs. His thick fingers hooked into your panties, manipulating your legs so he could pull them off and toss them somewhere in the room. He pressed your legs apart before you could snap them shut, a seed of worry taking root in your mind as you looked down at him.

You’d never been so self-conscious during a hook-up before, but for some reason Joel felt different. Your thoughts were preoccupied on how you looked from his vantage point, if you smelled alright and if anything looked weird.

“Been wanting to taste you all night, ever since I saw you standing up there during that damn ceremony.”

He spread you apart with his thumbs, eyes focused on your already wet pussy as a smirk stretched across his features. He just stared, making you want to crawl back into yourself. Then the feeling of his tongue on your clit makes you forget your worries, your face scrunching as you moaned. Joel hooked your leg over his shoulder, your heel pressing against his back as he pushed your thighs even further apart. 

You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been so soaked before, sticky arousal practically gushing out of you. Joel’s wide tongue licked long stripes up your cunt, careful to practically gulp down everything that he could. He was groaning as he ate you out, his big hands digging into your waist to pull you closer. The coarse hair of his beard was rough against the soft skin of your inner thighs 

“Oh–oh god, Joel,” you sighed, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could look at him. 

Your thighs were quaking, pressing against his ears as your hips twitched. Joel’s dark eyes were hazy and half lidded as he lapped over your clit, working with a focus you’d never experienced with any other man. He looked beautiful between your legs, belly-down on the mattress and still dressed in his button down shirt and slacks. 

One of his hands left your hip, snaking up your stomach to reach blindly until he cupped your breast. He pulled at the cup of your bra, revealing your peaked nipple. The bud was immediately pinched between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back as you let out another whine of his name.

Joel dipped down to shove his searing tongue inside of you as his nose bumped into the swollen bead of your clit. A bolt of lightning ricocheted up your spine, a gasp leaving you. It felt so good you could almost cry, your chest heaving and hips clumsily grinding toward his mouth. You were already starting to tremble, pleasure sparking in the pit of your stomach as he mouthed at you. 

And then he pulled back.

“Joel!” you yelped, starting to sit up as your gaze hardened into a glare. Your pussy clenched around nothing, neglected and empty with an interrupted orgasm.

He huffed a laugh, looking down at you as he knelt on the bed in front of you. “You’re right, baby, that’s my name,” he teased, his voice deep and smokey. 

He grabbed you roughly by the hips, pulling so you fell to your back again. “You fucker–” Joel cut you off by pressing the backs of your knees until you were bent in half, a brief show of just how strong he was. His calloused hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, readjusting you again so the small of your back was propped up against his quads. You’d never been in this angle before, your pussy the highest point of your body as he pushed his forearms against your thighs to keep you still.

Joel’s hot breath washed over your cunt before he delved back into it, greedy as he started sucking on your clit. With the way you were contorted, you were completely helpless, any attempt to move your hips just made your thighs push uselessly against his arms. You were soaking, your arousal dripping down to your asshole as you whimpered pathetically.

He went at a leisurely pace, taking his time to tongue at you and lick long stripes from your perineum to your clit. Your hands were clenching in the white comforter on the hotel bed, your chest heaving. There was something about being completely at his mercy that made your head spin.

You wanted to be greedy, take everything he would give you; but, Joel was in no rush, languidly pressing his face into your pussy despite your best efforts to get him to speed up. 

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, your head spinning as you watched Joel lick at you like he wanted to consume every part of you. Joel cupped your breast in a hand, strumming his thumb lightly over your nipple to keep it stimulated as you gasped. 

You were delirious by the time he sunk two fingers into you, almost making you scream. Joel took a few breaths, his pink lips swollen and shiny with your arousal as he studied your expression. You could hardly think straight, strings of curses mixed with his name falling from your lips as you panted like a bitch in heat. 

The squelching sound of his fingers lazily pumping into your pussy filled the hotel room, loud enough to make your cheeks burn. You wetted your lips, trying to catch your breath beneath Joel.

“So fucking tight around my fingers,” Joel mumbled, the words muffled and wet because he didn’t pull away. It didn’t even feel like he was talking to you, communing with your pussy instead. The praise went directly to your head, making you tighten around his fingers. You threaded a hand in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed against you. “Tastes just as good as I expected.”

“Oh… oh my god,” you breathed, your climax building toward its precipice. 

Joel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, just barely speeding up the rhythm of his fingers fucking into you. His thumb on your nipple followed suit, matching the motion as tears filled your eyes. Your fingers threaded into his curls, your brows furrowed as you pulled on his hair. He grunted against you, not letting up as he worked you up toward the edge. 

When you came it was a whole body event. Your legs trembled, hips burning from the awkward angle Joel had bent you into. Your back arched, breath pausing in your chest. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, sucked tight and feeling every inch of them inside you. The pleasure was white-hot as it coursed through you, leaving your nerves buzzing and your ears ringing as your body went limp.

“So pretty when you come,” Joel said, his thick fingers still deep inside you.

You were almost nonverbal, your response a delirious sob as you looked up at Joel with watery eyes. He caressed your cheek, gently stroking your jaw and thumb wiping over your lower lip. You kissed the pad of it out of reflex, the motion making his expression soften for a moment.

Then he started to massage the spongy spot inside of your dripping pussy, making your eyes roll back. “Too sensitive,” you whined, grabbing onto his forearm in a weak attempt to stop him. 

“Trust me, baby, I’ve got you,” he said in that syrupy tone, gaze still locked on your face as you squirmed. He took his hand away from your cheek, holding one of your legs to keep you still as he fucked his fingers into you. “You can do one more for me, right?”

The need to please him made you nod, taking in a deep and shaky breath. You couldn’t do anything but take it, your mouth dropping open and your back arching. The overstimulation made you tremble, your whole body squirming. Breaths kept huffing out of you, your brows pinched tight as you tried to relax. It was hard to think straight, hell, it was hard to even breathe. 

Joel pulled his fingers out of you for a moment to strum over your swollen clit, only touching you with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. He continued until you were straining against him, moaning and sobbing his name. It was like he was carved from stone, hardly giving you any leeway as he kept you in place. The pressure in you built faster this time, it was almost embarrassing how quick he was able to get you to the edge. 

“Joel, Joel, Joel–ohmygod,” you gasped, reaching for purchase against his thigh. His dress pants were soft under your fingers as you squeezed, your body practically vibrating. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured soothingly, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your thigh as his fingers hooked back into you. 

Joel fucked you on them at a ruthless pace as his thumb rolled over the crest of your sex, your mouth opening in a wordless cry as you fell into your second orgasm of the night. You were completely lost, your eyes squeezed shut as your muscles spasmed against the restraint of Joel’s arms. White noise filled your mind, your body melting against Joel’s thighs and the bed as your legs fell open even further. 

He rubbed along the seam of your cunt soothingly, calloused fingers working you through the aftershocks. Your eyes were completely hazed when you looked up at him, splayed on the bed like every bone had been pulled from your body. He looked positively giddy, his wet fingers smearing on your thigh as he rubbed your legs in an effort to help you come back to yourself.

Joel let you off of him, returning your spine to the mattress as he leaned over you to give you a kiss. You hummed into it, smelling and tasting your salty-sweet slick on his lips and facial hair. “Please fuck me,” you begged between presses of his mouth, desperation easy to hear in your tone.

“‘Course I will, baby,” he said, getting off the bed to quickly undress himself. You shakily sat up, unclipping your bra at your back and tossing it aside. 

Joel was impressive, his body rippled with muscles beneath a layer of fat that told you he was eating well. Your gaze dragged down him, mouth watering as you finally saw his cock. It was big, the same tanned tone of his skin with a flushed tip. It jutted from a patch of trimmed, dark hair that was accentuated by the happy trail beneath his navel. You swallowed thickly, pussy clenching at the thought of him fucking you into the mattress.

You kissed him eagerly as he got back on the bed, part of you so desperate to please him. Joel was older than you, so much more experienced, you just wanted him to like you. 

He grunted, curling a hand around the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand traveled down your body, massaging your hip with his thumb. You were putty in his hands, your own arms in a loop around his neck.

“Lay down,” Joel mumbled against the hinge of your jaw, nipping at the bone. You whimpered, fingers digging into the broad muscle of his shoulders as you complied. Joel ran a hand over you, sliding it down the valley between your breasts and over your soft stomach. 

The backs of your thighs were pressed against his quads as he took himself in his hand, sliding the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. You clenched around nothing, desperate and wanting. “Joel, please.” 

You couldn’t take waiting anymore.

He smirked, notching himself at your entrance and obliging you. Joel pressed and pressed and pressed until his hips were completely snug against yours. He split you in half across the width of his cock, moving slow to give you some time to adjust. It felt like he’d consumed all of the extra space in your body, you even felt him in your throat. 

You breathed brokenly, back arched and hips twitching as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You weren’t a virgin–weren’t anything close to it, really–but it felt just as overwhelming as your first time.

Joel bent over you, his elbows on either side of your head carrying his weight as he ground his hips against yours. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, a heated groan rumbling from his chest. It was hard to make sense of things, rattled breaths filling your chest as your mind whirred uselessly. He peppered kisses over your face, his lips wet and warm as he showered you in affection.

Then he moved his hips, the roll of them slow and syrupy and making you nearly choke. You grabbed at his biceps, an attempt to anchor yourself to him as he started to rut his hips into yours. He made room for himself with every press of his cock, molding you to the shape of him.

Joel collected your leg with a rough hand, pushing your knee toward your chest. He let it come to rest in the curve of his elbow, palm pressed flat to the comforter as he spread you open wider. Your hips protested as he splayed you apart, the discomfort easily taking a backseat to your pleasure.

You keened, mouth falling open as he sank even deeper inside of you. Your breaths came out in little mewls, matching Joel’s grunts as you met each thrust with a weak roll of your hips. His lips were at your throat, sucking more marks into the skin and his facial hair scratching against you. “Goddamn, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” Joel groaned into the curve of your neck, still keeping an even rhythm

You let out a breathy laugh–you felt the same way about him. He lifted himself to get a better look at you, dark brown eyes as warm as the summer sun as his gaze drifted all the way down to where his cock was buried in you. He grunted at the sight, pupils dilating like drops of ink in water.

His free hand lifted off its elbow, his weight shifting to one side so he could wet the pad of his thumb with a lick of his tongue. You were making sounds you couldn’t control, each thrust pushing a small gasp from your throat. Then, Joel dropped his hand to your lower abdomen, gently tracing the curve of your belly down into the soft thatch of hair you hadn’t bothered to shave.

A calloused thumb found your clit, swirling over it with a confident pressure in a way that made your eyes nearly roll back in your skull. Joel was pounding into the spot that made you see stars, merciless in his pace. “Joel… oh god…”

You could feel the flutter of your orgasm starting, your legs trembled against his arm and the curve of his waist. You chanted his name like a prayer, overstimulated tears starting to squeeze out of the corners of your eyes and roll into your hairline. He just soldiered on, grinding his thumb over your clit as he worked you higher and higher toward the edge.

A rattling gasp escaped your throat as you pulsed around Joel, your brows pinching and your body stiffening beneath his. You could feel the release from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, your nails digging into his thick biceps as the flickering pleasure turned into a full on forest fire. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto the mattress with you as you held him close.

“Fuck,” Joel moaned into your neck. His thrusts became sloppy fast, his discipline gone to the wayside now that he made you come on his cock. You felt him twitch inside you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against the curve of your shoulder. His hand grabbed your hip, pulling you down to match his frantic thrusts as he moaned your name into your skin.

You wanted to pull his head away from you so you could see how his face looked when he finished. The muscles in his abdomen clenched, his hips grinding tight to yours as he came inside of you. You moaned with him, the feeling of being filled up by him satiating a need you didn’t know you had as you dragged your blunt nails on his scalp.

Joel finally collapsed, the weight of his body pressing down on you as you combed your fingers through his hair. His hips were cradled by your legs, sweat slicking your skin wherever it was pressed together. You breathed against one another, pulling each other close as you basked in the afterglow.

You were sharing the same air, pressing loose kisses to each other's warm skin as you melted into each other for an unknown amount of time. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours.

“We should clean up,” you finally breathed, able to come back to yourself. 

Joel nodded against your neck, you felt it more than you saw it. You giggled after he didn’t move, still leaving you helpless and pinned beneath him. He seemed to make himself even more comfortable, arms constricting around you and face nuzzling closer to your throat.

“Joel,” you chastised, lightly shoving at his shoulder. It was half-hearted and meaningless–you were more than content to stay here all night if you had to.

“I like how you say that, Joel,” he said, mimicking your voice in an annoyingly high-pitched tone. It made you laugh, throwing your head back against the comforter as you shook it. 

He hissed, pulling away from you just enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “You clench around me like a fucking vise when you laugh like that, baby,” Joel muttered, swirling his fingertips over your skin. He didn’t move to pull out of you quite yet, the two of you relishing in the intimacy of your embrace.

A slow smirk crossed his face, his dark eyes flickering back up to meet yours. “Plus, what’s the point of cleaning up if I’m not done with you yet?”

–

Needless to say, you were sneaking out of his room when the dregs of sunlight started streaming through the hotel room windows, sore and exhausted, with his phone number typed into your phone and his hickeys all over your skin.

[boujiestpoet]

Oh that's not pt 3

Summary: Lando starts dropping cryptic love messages in his instagram, getting fans excited until they discover who he is talking about, and he HARD luanches his new (not really new tho) girl.

Faceclaim: The one and only Ryan Destiny

Genre: Social Media/ Real life

THIS IS A REMINDER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION I DON'T KNOW NONE OF THIS PEOPLE, AND THIS WOTK DO NOT REPRESENT WHO THEY ARE

Previous chapter, Next Chapter

Amara sighs for the tenth time while waiting for her food. She's currently wondering if she made the right decision not to go to the SAG awards and instead decided to go to dinner with her boyfriend, whose eyes are glued to the screen

"You know I'm here in the flesh, there's no need to stalk my IG" she whispers, even though she doesn't need to because I'm in a private area of the luxury restaurant

"Sorry" the driver puts his phone down, his eyes moving towards his girlfriend

She is dressed in a brown dress that complements her beautiful skin, which shines like gold under the light, he is mesmerized.

"You're beautiful" he takes her hand, even though she hears those compliments every day, the actress always finds herself blushing. And every time he notices, her reaction always makes him smile.

"You have returned to planet earth" she smiles

"Sorry, I was rather distracted, it won't happen again" he kisses her hand

"I understand…the season is about to start, if I were in your place I wouldn't even be able to sleep"

"I am confident that this season will be better than last year" he announces

"I'll cheer for you wherever I am" she exclaims, Lando remembers that in a few days, Amara will have to leave Bahrain and they won't see each other for months.

"When will they start filming?" he asks

"Two weeks, but I have to be in London for the last costume fitting" finally the food arrives

"I'll miss you" he confesses, the girl knows what he means

"I will miss you too, but I will come to see you at all the GPs that will take place in Europe" she reassures him, Lando is not a person who lets anxiety get the better of him but when it happens he knows that Amara is there to do everything possible to make it sound good,

He doesn't want to make her worry but he himself doesn't want her to leave, but at the same time he loves how her eyes shine when she follows her passions. He didn't know that being in love was so simple and complicated at the same time

" It's a promise?" he pressed her hand.

"Yes darling, now let's eat before the food gets cold"

landonorris

💬❤️liked by ayoedibiri,mclaren and other 890,000

landonorris: She said she's my biggest fan, but I'M her biggest fan

view comments......

↳ Amara_thepoet: You think you can beat me?

↳ landonorris: Yeah I love you more than you love me

↳ Amara_thepoet: Well I love you more

↳ ayoedibiri: Can yall please spare us

↳ oscarpiastri: Forreal is disgusting

sam💖: I fucking knew it at mrsnorris. It's quite ain't no back talk

↳ Mclarenfan: Not you tagging her

↳ sam💖: She needed some reality check

Mclaren: Our new favourite couple

↳ Mclarenfan: What about Oscar and Lily

↳ Mclaren: 🤫

amarathefan: Well it's time to get into f1

username67: I know some people,are having a bad day 🤣

So I'm back not because I was ready, but I click post soo yeah...I'm not quite confident with this chapter. I accept advices PLEASE.

Taglist: @dutifullyannoyingfox

[umadosedepascal]

P E D R O P A S C A L

O N L Y

__ FIC REQUEST OPEN __

SERIES

(Banners are here)

NEW MEXICO(PART IX)- Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

W I N N E R(PART VIII) - You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

O U C H (PART VII) - You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

B O A T (PART VI) - Today is your last day in Malta. Pedro will be back to work, and you also need to return to your routine. Pedro wants your last day to be wonderful, nothing like a surprise with a perfect end. The three most intense days of your life.

COME FIND ME (PART V) - Pedro promised you a weekend, but an unforeseen event changes everything. Maybe he's a fan of surprises, maybe he can find you.

72 HOURS WITH HIM (PART IV) - The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!

PEDRO SOLO (PART III) - The days are long and exhausting, Pedro has a huge hotel room, hot tub ... But he is missing something, could you help him?

LOSING GAME (PART II) - You meet Pedro again not just to take back your panties. He wants to play a game, who’s going to lose?

HIGH MILES CLUB (PART I) - After partying hard at Met Gala making out with you in the bathroom and later taking you to his hotel room in NY, he finds something inside his red overcoat pocket in the middle of the airport. But it doesn’t stop, more unexpected and hot things happens during his flight back home.

ONE SHOT

(Banners are here)

🔥CORONA, MEXICO - You got invited by Corona to be an extra on the new “La vida mas fina” campaign at the beach. Even if was only one single scene, maybe just 10 seconds of screen you would be more than happy because the main reason was him…Pedro.

MASTERCHEF FAIL - With a busy schedule, Pedro finds some time to spend with you. You promised him to cook his favorite food. Maybe things get out of hand and dessert comes before dinner.

PURPLE IS THE HOTTEST COLOR - After having a difficult day, Pedro meets you, no patience, no time for conversations.Pedro only has one desire in mind: you here and now, no matter if anyone will see you.

————————————————

PEDRO I M A G I N E

It’s 3 in the morning…

Hey, I’m looking at you…

What a smile…

You wearing his purple shirt…

Pedro eat pussy drawing

🔥Pedro eat pussy part II

————————————————

Who are Santa Trindade

Gringa is on her late 30’s totally addicted to Pascal for the latest years (she doesn’t know what happened) although she’s following his work since 2019 because she is a Star Wars nerd and fell in love with a mandalorian 🤷🏻‍♀️. Her favorite Pedro boy is Javi Gutierrez because he is chubby and funny (Pedro vibes almost 100%).

What makes her wet is when Pedro: slide his finger on his lips while giggling.

Good vibes: if she had a date with Pedro she thinks she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day 🥲

——

@missyorkswhore is on her late 20’s and noticed Pedro when her uncle was watching Narcos, she saw Javier and asked him “wow, who’s that stach guy?”. A couple years later she finally got into Narcos and you know…she still want to marry Peña.

She loves when Pedro raises his eyebrow, and when he speaks Spanish [she thinks she can get wet in a fraction of seconds if he speaks like that to her in bed] ah and of course when he screams WHAT TOWN!!! as Joel.

Fave character obviously: DAVE FUCKING YORK (killer king)

[unladyboss]

SYDCARMY, SYDRICHIE AND SYD MARCUS OUT TO EAT

More and more sightings out in Chicago. This time it's Las Carol in Chicago

They're taking their time getting season 4 done.

RICHIE starts his other project in the summer and Carmy a couple months after

Apparently this place has good food

Fak has eaten there before and wasn't there with them

Richie is still doing his food tour

Even though he's sitting next to Sydney he sends her this pic

She looks at her phone and giggles

Sends him this

"Where's your jacket Richie?"

I guess this type of work is different. You just really want to hang with your coworkers

CARMY sends her this because he noticed them in their phones as he sat directly across from Sydney. Didn't like it that they were giggling with each other

She replied 'NOM'

He'd been there a couple years before.

He found the pic in his phone and sent it to her. To Richie's irritation.

Coworkers hanging out

(Your platonic coworkers)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

And February continues...

with Meghan's "we are not broken" PR clapback.

Meghan gets the Daily Mail to write about her luscious and healthy hair. (Link)

Meghan helps Mayhew open a new facility, named after her friend/dog trainer, via a virtual video. Meghan and Mayhew parted ways in 2022 so there something very odd going on. Supposedly Meghan was asked to be involved because the new facility was built with donations from the Sussexes.

Meghan has lunch with Claire Wight Kelly at celeb hotpot Cipriani in Beverly Hills. Of course she merches her outfit, which involves a Kate cosplay coat, black top and trousers, and blue shoes. The flash from paparazzi reveals she's staring down the camera with crazy eyes behind her sunglasses. As one does.

The Daily Mail spams us with articles about Meghan and Claire's long friendship. It's a chance to plug her wedding look and tiara photos.

Meghan has dinner with an Oprah associate in Studio City. Of course the paps are there! She merches her handbag this time. That is one tragic pair of pants.

Meghan's PR hypes up a 'return to the royal playbook' with the Mayhew visit, boosting speculation of half in/half out.

There's a PR-planted story about how William would let Harry back if Harry apologizes first. (I'm not sure whose PR this one is from, since it's very clearly not William, not after last weekend's story. It sounds like it could be the Sussexes trying to manifest something since olive branches/apologies are their thing.)

All of this has happened 2/22/24 - 2/23/24.

The SAG Awards are this weekend, on Feb 24th. Ordinarily not something to point out, but the awards ceremony are being broadcast live on Netflix. Usually I'd suggest we might be getting some Meghan + Netflix PR but I don't think so, not this time. I think last week's Netflix-sourced story describing the Sussex deal was the streamer clapping back at Meghan trying to insert herself into the SAG Awards. We'll see.

(Also, if you sent asks recently that involve research - I'm hoping to get to those this weekend!)

[gaybuckybarnesss]

TAYLOR ZAKHAR PEREZ & PHIL DUNSTER SAG Awards Ambassador Dinner 2024

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss Live at Tre Posti Vineyards

Pre-Concert Wine Tasting Reception • Live Concert in the Vineyard • Post-Concert 3-Course Vintner's Dinner

Time & Location Jul 25, 2024, 6:00 PM Tre Posti Vineyards, 641 Main St, St Helena, CA 94574, USA

About the event Please note: Concert is at 7:30pm. Arrival time varies based on ticket type. Broadway & Vine invites you to an unforgettable evening pairing some of Napa Valley most beloved vintner's with a concert by Golden Globe, Primetime Emmy, Critic's Choice, and SAG Award Winner Darren Criss (TV: Glee, Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story, Hollywood, Broadway/Off Broadway: Maybe Happy Ending, Little Shop of Horrors, American Buffalo, Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2015), How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying) at Tre Posti's Vineyard. For this concert, Darren will be performing a playlist of songs featured throughout his wildly eclectic career as both a songwriter and performer.  Supplement your concert experience with a pre-concert wine tasting reception and post concert Vintner's dinner.

Since bursting onto the pop-culture landscape over a decade ago, Darren Criss has embodied the kind of kaleidoscopic artistry that’s entirely uninhibited by form or genre.  Before Darren Criss exploded into the internet’s subculture as both an actor and songwriter for the YouTube viral hit A Very Potter Musical in 2009, he had made a small name for himself playing unique interpretations of popular songs he’d perform at cafes and bars in his hometown of San Francisco.  Little did he know that the same knack for covering tunes would serve him well in 2010, when he was cast on FOX’s massively successful musical series Glee, from which many of his performances of popular songs would lead to several Billboard-topping records.  In 2015 his songwriting also landed an Emmy nomination for Best Original Music and Lyrics, from penning the song “This Time” for the show’s series finale.

Criss has continued to write and produce music extensively through the years, whether for his own releases as an artist or as a songwriter for theater, film & television.  In 2019 Criss created, executive produced, starred in, and provided all the original songs for his short-form musical comedy series Royalties, and earlier this year provided the music & lyrics for the opening number of the 2022 Tony Awards: Act One.  As an artist, he most recently delivered a genre-diverse collection of "character-driven" singles as part of his 2021 solo EP titled “Masquerade” (BMG), and in the same year, released a full-length Christmas album titled- aptly- A Very Darren Crissmas (Decca).

As an actor, Criss is a veteran of the stage whose Broadway credits include the titular role of Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2015), How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying (2012), and the most recent 2022 revival of David Mamet’s seminal play American Buffalo alongside Laurence Fishburne and Sam Rockwell.  In 2018 his work in Ryan Murphy’s The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story received wide critical acclaim, earning him a Primetime Emmy, Golden Globe, Screen Actors Guild, and Critics’ Choice Award.  He was most recently seen starring in Netflix’s hit series Hollywood, for which he also served as executive producer.”

Please Note: The event will be held outdoors at sunset and the temperature will vary. Seating is based on party size and arrival time, and is up to the discretion of the event management. No seat is greater than 35 feet from the stage in this exclusive Broadway concert experience.  ALL SALES FINAL.

[broadwaydivastournament]

Broadway Divas Tournament: Round 2A

Laura Linney (1964) "LAURA LINNEY (Diana) Broadway credits include My Name is Lucy Barton (Tony nom. dir. Richard Eyre): The Little Foxes (Tony nom.) Time Stands Still (Tony nom.) and Sight Unseen (Tony nom.) all directed by Daniel Sullivan at MTC. Other credits include Les Liaisons Dangereauses, The Crucible (Tony nom.), Uncle Vanya, Hedda Gabler, Honour, Holiday, The Seagull, Beggars in the House of Plenty, Six Degrees of Separation. Television credits: "Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City," "Ozark" (SAG, Emmy nom), "The Big C" (Emmy, Golden Globe Awards), "John Adams" (SAG, Golden Globe, Emmy Awards), "Frasier" (Emmy Award), "Wild Iris" (Emmy Award), "The Laramie Project," "Tales of the City" trilogy. Film: Falling, The Dinner, Nocturnal Animals, Sully, Sympathy for Delicious, Morning, The Details, The Savages (Oscar nom), Kinsey (Oscar nom), You Can Count on Me (Oscar nom), The Other Man, City of Your Final Destination, The Squid and the Whale, Jindabyne, Love Actually, Mystic River, The Nanny Diaries, Breach, Man of the Year, The Hottest State, Driving Lessons, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, P.S., The Life of David Gale, The Mothman Prophecies, Maze, The House of Mirth, The Truman Show, Absolute Power, Primal Fear, Congo, Lorenzo's Oil, Dave. Training: The Julliard School, Brown University. Member: AEA, SAG." - Playbill bio from Summer, 1976, June 2023.

Audra McDonald (1970) "AUDRA MCDONALD (Suzanne Alexander) is honored to take part in Adrienne Kennedy's historic and long overdue Broadway debut. A board member of Covenant House International and co-founder of Black Theatre United, McDonald is a singer, actor, and activist who lives in New York with her amazing husband and children." - Playbill bio from Ohio State Murders, December 2022.

NEW PROPAGANDA AND MEDIA UNDER CUT: ALL POLLS HERE

"Do you ever think Laura Linney reads her playbill bio and cries? Does she dream of the day when she too will hold a Tony Award aloft in triumph, or has she resigned herself to being one of four actresses with the biggest fail rate and will one day hold the record outright? (Given that Estelle Parsons is in her nineties, Dana Ivey is in her eighties, and Jan Maxwell, my beloved, is dead?) Anyway, the point of this isn't to rub salt in the wound. Love you, Laura Linney."

"It's too mean to title this poll Biggest Tony Winner vs. Biggest Tony Loser but it's pretty damn accurate, and given the overwhelming whiteness of award shows overall, it's damn satisfying that the Black woman is the one with a record-breaking Tonys on her shelf and the white blonde woman is not (no matter how talented she is). Audra McDonald, my beloved, you're going to sweep this entire tournament."

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde

Como bien señalas en la cena hay matrimonios entonces, que impide que Cait acuda a la misma con el que dice que es su esposo? O ese *esposo solo le sirve de vez en cuando para para calentar los ánimos en un fandom fácilmente caldeable? Ya sabemos que Sam está en Londres así que Cait no puede estar allí y en Glasgow tampoco, esas obras no acaban nunca 🤣

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Y muy reactiva, hoy. 😉 Como se dice en Chile: 'a ver, a ver/por qué llora esta mujer'?

'As you very well observed, there were couples invited to that dinner. So, why would Cait not be there with the one she says it's her husband? Or would that be that the *husband* is only useful once in a while, to fire up tempers in a fandom that's easily heated? We know that Sam is in London, so Cait cannot be there or in Glasgow, so it never ends. 🤣'

You know I agree with everything you wrote, spare one detail: S was apparently not in LHR in October, when the Belfast dinner took place. I had to go look at my archives and make some sense of the context. And although I am not Marple, I couldn't help but notice last October was a very active networking/promo/shit show month for both of them, as the SAG-AFTRA strike was still not over yet.

Just a short summing up:

October 4, 2023 - C's 44th birthday and another mysterious donation to Project CaiTreena/One Tree Planted. S in NYC for drinks and Departures interview with Sophie Mancini. Fandom gets ballistic speculating - an empty 💩, of course.

October 5, 2023 - S in NYC for the Keepers of the Quaich US Chapter gala, with Norouzi (as I predicted) and Mancini. C's whereabouts unknown - not the US, I suppose. Maybe in LHR, re-enacting that Prophet Song excerpt, on behalf of the Booker Prize?

October 8, 2023 - C spotted in LHR for Harrods Iconic Dining Hall Relaunch hosted by Stanley Tucci, with McIdiot (the only time, that month!). Hullaballo ensues for something very close to a nothing burger. S supposedly in GLA, as shown by FaceTime snippet convo with Amanda Tutschek, Venice Beach topless artist extraordinaire. Date of above FaceTime snippet - unknown.

October 10, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, likely latergram (IG SS gin pics taken on own driveway). C confirmed in LHR, first by Gareth Bromell, then by Getty Image pics at Loewe Foundation's Studio Voltaire Award. Sans McIdiot.

October 17, 2023 - S signs APUK's Palestine letter, whereabouts unknown (my bet is on NYC/Nevis). C confirmed in LHR at the Portia Coughlan play Press Night/After Party, Almeida Theatre. Sans McIdiot, but with Tobias. LOL.

October 19, 2023 - S on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show, in NYC. Ring ding ding proves to be a very effective lookie here, not there prop. C's whereabouts unknown, as S's in the October 10-17 interval (Nevis? both? That would be my best bet, and yeah, go ahead and screech. I DGAF).

October 25, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, despite posting 'from Nevis' the same day and shirtless thirst trap the next day. C's whereabouts unknown? Not really, I should say.

Back to the Northern Irish dinner - bear with me, Anon Rebelde, I am trying to pinpoint a date, here. Begin Again, Jeffers' book that prompted it, was out in the US on October 2 and in UK/Canada and Ireland on October 10:

October was a dementedly busy month for the author, as shown by the excruciating dates of his North American and UK book launch tours (https://www.oliverjeffers.com/begin-again-book-tour):

One of the events surrounding this launch was held at Belfast's Crescent Arts Centre in partnership with No Alibis Bookstore, on October 24. Best thing? He is dressed exactly like in the NYT article pics.

My best bet is that dinner took place in Belfast on October 24, Anon Rebelde or at the latest on October 25 (next to 0 chance, given the identical attire, but let's allow some margin of error to our estimate).

As for Jeffers' position on the Israel-Hamas Gaza War (which, may I remind you, started on October 7), I think this is a very clear statement:

You draw your own conclusions, Anon Rebelde. I am here to try and bring some clarity in a shitstorm, not brainwash you.

Always waiting for your input, which is much appreciated! Hasta luego, hija de la rebeldía!

PS: The timeline game was fucking exhausting. I am not the Securitate, so you won't see me play at that any time soon :)

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

Ch 11- Tired Tim

Damian Wayne x Oc! Female

Prev | Next

Tired.

Tim was always tired. He knew it was due to his missing spleen, busy nightlife, and declining mental health. It was a bad combination that he was trying his best to correct. Others were helping as well. But today, today he was Tired. So tired he felt it in his bones. His body protested with every movement, he moved slower, his shoulder slouched forward, his eyes sunken. He just couldn't. 

As he entered his office, he saw the piles of papers on his desk. He truly couldn't.

"Hello," he flinched so hard that the papers he held went flying, and he fell to the ground. "I don't think you need any more coffee." Sitting on the sofa in his personal office was Damian's fiance, Syn. On the coffee table in front of her was a cup holder with two Styrofoam cups with his favorite coffee shop logo on them. 

"Sorry," Tam said as she came in, hearing the commotion." She said she was a friend of the family. Your brother called to confirm."

He nodded as his shoulders sagged, and he laid down on the ground. " I think he's had enough for today." That was the last full sentence Tim heard before he started to slip into unconsciousness. He heard pieces after.

"...Let me help."

"...coming"

"It's his..."

"...sometimes...".

He felt movement but wasn't conscious enough to understand any of it. After some time, he just gave in.

-

Hours later, he woke up startled. His last memory was of Syn in his office. Now, he was in his apartment in his bed. How did he get here? Jumping out of bed, he was still in his work clothes, which was good. Nothing nefarious happened to his body. Unless? "Are you going to come out now?" He stepped out of his room to see Syn sitting in his living room with his laptop surrounded by, no doubt, his paperwork.

"I got you coffee. It's probably cold now," she said nonchalantly. " I don't think you should drink it. Perhaps some tea instead."

"Why are you here?"

She gets up and puts the laptop aside. Tim watches as she makes her way to the kitchen. She busies herself while he looks at what she has been doing. She was looking at different accounts, marking those incorrect, and highlighting the mistakes. "Where is Tam?"

"She went to cancel and reschedule your meeting for today and tomorrow. As well as get your meds." She was no doubt contacting his family as well. They'd be here tomorrow to coddle and scold him. And Bruce would no doubt join him in the office the next day. 

"Why are you here?"

"That dinner was intense. I don't believe that was a true representation of your family. Individual meetings should be better, no? I want to meet Tim Drake-Wayne."

"And I'd like to meet Syn Minamoto." Smiling, Syn took a seat across from him on the couch. He eyed her suspiciously.

"My name is Syn Minamoto, and I come from a family of nine. I am the oldest daughter at 15-"

"you're 15"

"As of April 15th, is that problem?" She eyed him. It should be, especially considering all his family did when they were her age or younger. 

"No, sorry, it's just you said you and Damian met at 3?"

"I was 3. Damian was 4 or 5 at the time. I don't remember when time blurred within the league, and age never mattered." In the league, Birthdays were never truly celebrated. Damian received a test every birthday, a fight with his mother, and an award of learning about his father if he won. Additionally, they might receive some new weapons if someone was generous. (Syn would also have the kitchen make sweet cakes for him. He never ate them.) Syn never celebrated her birthday. 

" Damian says your family is different from the League. How?"

"I come from a family of hired assassins. It is tradition and has been this way for many generations. We are all trained from birth in the art of killing."

"How is that different from the League?" Tim asked as he closed the laptop. He couldn't wait for this explanation.

" The League is not for hire. They kill those who provide obstacles, secrets, or betrayals. The League is a cult working for world peace by domination. My family is not that stupid." Syn gets up for the whistling in the kitchen. Tim follows her, and he watches her prepare two cups of tea. " My family knows we can't save or change the world. We don't bother. We also have rules against killing bystanders. Although the rules have become lacking, they still stand. We try to avoid killing those without a bounty on their head." 

Tim tried to hide his surprise at her making his tea exactly how he liked it. " Only killing those with a price. Gotcha"

"My father and grandfather once had a job to kill a metahuman. He wasn't a nice man, he was a killer himself. They were going to kill him and almost did, too, but they got a call in the middle of it. The one who hired them died. So, they walked away, and the man got to live. We don't like extra steps or unnecessary kills. My grandfather accidentally killed someone who wasn't his target. He was remorseful." Syn remembered when her grandfather told her. He didn't cry; he didn't frown or look sad, and his voice was cold and steady. He did actually look remorseful. The silences gave his heartache away ( but did it really ache?). It was a reminder of the rule. (Never spoke of it before or again). It was a reminder that not everyone needed to die. ( did he really care?) she likes to believe he did. (Pretend he did).

"Are you? Are you remorseful?" Tim asked, " For all the people you killed."

She thought for a moment, was she? " No"

"No?"

"I killed bad people and adjacent."

"Adjacent? The fuck does that mean?!"

"Those helped or turned a blinded eye. Not because of fear but because they could, because they didn't want to deal with it. Those people. Honestly, I've done my best to avoid killing the last six of so years."

"Why'd you stop?"

"Damian changed, so I changed."

It sounded so simple, but it wasn't. The league wasn't that simple, and he doubted her family was that simple. Just because they didn't want world domination doesn't make them saints. Just being familiar with the League was bad enough. He knew enough to know the league didn't have any good associates.  Tim didn't bother saying any of them thought. He learned from when Damian first married that anything he said would either be waved off or be argued against and might even result in some violence. He knew better now after his experience with Damia. He wouldn't hurt or isolate her. 

"You are more quiet than I thought you'd be" Syn said. Her research showed her that he was the most curious and would have the most questions. He was the detective, after all. 

"I have many questions. My mind runs as we speak." Tim said, cupping his drink it was still warm. It feels nice. " I don't know where to start or if I should."

"Would you like to sleep them?" before Tim could protest, she continued, " I currently reside in Gotham. So we can continue this conversation any other time."

"Really? I thought Damian wanted to keep you away from Gotham and us." Damian had been very vocal about keeping Syn away from the family. DIck even mentioned how he planned to run away and elope with her leaving them all behind; it scared some of them. 

"he has had a change of heart and plans. He has allowed me to stay."

Allowed.

He'd be filing that away for later. He couldn't handle that now. He could fell the tirness returning. He finishes his tea.

" Did you spike my drink?" He should probably sound more concerned.

"No, but that is a tea used to aid in sleep. You need more rest. I'll have Tam contact your friends and family." She helps him to bed. He knows she shouldn't, but he can't find himself caring and let her lead as his mind fades. Later he'll blame the tea.

-

"How was it?" Damian asked as he continues to shuffle through paint colors. The house repairs were officially done and they were now decorating and furnturing.

"He was tired" SYn said as she leaned on the door frame watching him " didn't ask as many question as I thought. He actually spent a lot fo time sleeping so."

"I'm aware. Tam called to inform the family." Damian knew that it would have descended into chaos if he had come along with her to meet Tim. Tim still wasn't taking the engagement well. So he sent her alone, hoping the conversations would progress more without him present. He called Tam to inform her and ensure Tim's lunch was free. He set it up nicely. Unfortunately, it didn't go according to plan, but they still talked. 

" The conversation was informed but short. I told him I reside in Gotham now. He was surprised."

"I have yet to disclose your new residents to the family."

"Surely they've noticed the incoming trucks of supplies."

"Davenport is next to you. He often renovates without warning." His family, more often than not, left Davenport alone. There was no harm in it, as Davenport was exactly what Brucie Wayne was pretending to be—a really Billionaire Bimbo.

"Are we almost done?" Syn asked, looking out the window as the sun was setting. Damian turned to look as well, watching as the skies changed from gold to purple. 

[weclassybouquetfun]

As a self-proclaimed mostly straight white dude,

I hope that mostly got a bit of a workout at the SAG Award Ambassadors Dinner honouring Phil and his fellow ambassador Taylor Zakhar Perez.

Phil, I know dark, hairy dudes are your weakness. I fully understand.

And you spent time with your SURFACE costar Oliver Jackson-Cohen? Lucky duck!

"Throuple?" Taylor, count me in.

Philip, you've not even seen his full power because he's clean shaven. With facial hair?

He's not just good-looking, he's quick on his feet. This answer to an interview he did for THE KISSING BOOTH 2 made me, a very private person, proud.

It's the truth! You are not dating if you're already married/engaged. Interviewers gotta get smart on how they phrase their questions.

-Now we just need Taylor to get to work.