#I know Twitter is vile but the details are seriously all there

[laughterbynight]

Because apparently folks are confused and not looking shit up, this is the missing “sub”. It’s literally a metal tube.

It fits 5 people.

There’s no crew y’all. This isn’t Disney’s Atlantis. There’s one guy who presses a button on a Logitech controller to go up and down. Everyone else is whoever can afford a ticket.

Hope this helps cause I’m seeing some wild ass claims in the comments.

[animentality]

Dude I'm so confused

Why are the redditors refugees here-

Whats up with the tag 196

AND WHY IS EVERYONE BEING SO NICE WITH THE TWITTER REFUGEES CAME WE GAVE THEM HELL (almost)

The Reddit refugees are here because several subreddits have gone private in protest of reddit's new policy of charging third party developers for access to its API.

Hence the term reddit blackout.

196 specifically was a very queer friendly subreddit that had one rule: that you post before you leave. 196 is trending because those Redditors have come here and they're basically sharing their memery here instead as they protest reddit's greed.

As for why we're welcoming them when Twitter refugees were seen with a little more irritation, well.

Think of the culture similarities.

Tumblr and reddit have far more in common than Tumblr and Twitter.

Twitter is about clout and manipulating algorithms and discourse in 280 characters or less. It's about bad takes that reach the right people and it forces you to see things you don't want to see and it's crawling with the worst people imaginable and you're forced to see them, all the time. They also brought bad tagging and 2016 Tumblr discourse with them, because Twitter culture really involves starting fights for clout and braindead opinions that no one really wants to come back to Tumblr culture.

There was a time when Tumblr did the same thing, but worse, with more words...but nowadays, it's really calmed down.

The worst people...went to Twitter after the porn ban. Ironically, it made the site less toxic and hostile.

But then they came back.

And it was like...hm. no thanks. Stay back where you came from.

But Tumblr and Reddit have much more in common.

Both have a more streamlined way of customizing your online feed. You can choose what subreddits you see on your home screen, just like Tumblr only shows you the content of your followers, on your dashboard, and in chronological order rather than what's trending. You can join a very specific weird niche group of freaks with a shared obsession, and not care about the rest of the site at all. You also don't have a character limit on either site, which lets you ramble more and share weird detailed stories.

Reddit might have karma, but like Tumblr, the majority of people are lurkers and not posters. It also allows you to downvote bad opinions, and moderators who have to adhere to certain guidelines of behavior, which means a lot of banning disruptive people.

Granted, sometimes their mods are power hungry, but. You know.

It does more to control its users than Tumblr do, and that's a good thing in terms of keeping toxicity and illegal shit off its subs.

Reddit also has a way more leftwing attitude than you would think.

It has a reputation for being full of incels but I honestly think that's outdated.

It's cleaned up its act quite a bit since the old days.

I see way more vile shit from Twitter and TikTok. Like seriously.

Twitter is crawling with conservative bots and propaganda machines and just outright inflammatory lies. TikTok literally has the worst comment sections I've ever seen, like edgy teenagers cracking racist and misogynistic humor and acting like it makes them different and special. Its algorithm also spoon feeds you garbage and is designed to be as addicting as possible.

At least reddit's culture, while chauvinistic and regressive in certain subcultures, is mostly on the tech positive, atheist libertarian side.

It can be a little pretentious and caustic about certain subjects, and a little full of itself. Some reddits are also very male leaning and disregard female concerns in favor of moaning about how men have it worse than anyone else on earth.

But for the most part?

...well.

I welcome them here, because if they left reddit in protest, then we always support protests. But 196 specifically is also a queer subreddit, and we support that even more.

Plus they're funny as fuck.

What's not to like, really?

You should welcome them with open arms too.

[gnflorida]

yuppp you're completely right, dream knows the ins and outs of the twitter oppression olympics, and he definitely knows he could cop out by just saying he was gay/bi/pan/etc because unfortunately that's the only thing the internet does these days. and ur also right about the fact that he could make these arguments so much easier by doing just that, but instead he chooses to safeguard one of the last piece of information that hasn't been forcibly dragged out of him. i respect him a lot for being so transparent about how difficult sexuality can be to understand, and the fact that he obviously takes it very seriously is admirable in the face of all the hypocritical, vile, and homophobic backlash he faces

(in reference to these tags)

like there is definitely some nuance here with optics and punching down and all that. when you make jokes that target a specific community and you purposefully do not make it clean whether you are a part of that community or not, you do have to bear some responsibility for the public’s reactions to those jokes.

however. it’s honestly kind of insane how many people feel completely entitled to that information. maybe it’s part of that whole micro-generational gap, how many ppl my age/younger don’t fully get why someone would keep the details of their sexual orientation private, especially if it did result in those bad optics. bc ultimately dream is putting his own privacy above the ability to come off as fully justified in his arguments, and that it something he has every right to do

[sharontates]

Natalie never accused Kirk Douglas. it comes from this site: gawker*com/5893793/did-robert-downey-jr-really-just-accuse-kirk-douglas-of-a-brutal-rape

People are continuously linking/referring to this article to prove Kirk’s innocence or whatever on here and twitter. I’m sorry but regardless of what RDjr said, this is not the reason as to why the classic hollywood community and Natalie fans alike, are accusing him of being a rapist.

I’ve been on this site for well over a decade, enveloped in Classic Hollywood cinema and drama, galore! I’ve heard it all. I’ve read soooo many books, articles, etc. on many of my favourite stars and you bet your ass, this case was talked about to DEATH at one stage when I was most active on this site.

You are correct in saying that Natalie never accused him. Why? I can’t actually believe I have to explain why but here we go...She was a 16 year old child, this was 1956 when it happened during an interview at Chateau Marmont. She confided in her mother on the drive home that she was raped repeatedly for hours. It was her mother who told her not to piss off her rapist.

Her sister has spoken of that attack a few times. She knows who did it, as does Suzanne Finstad (author of her bio). Both women said they will reveal the rapist’s name after he dies.

How do we know it was Kirk though? We know that there were apparently 3 Hollywood actors at that meeting...John Wayne, Kirk Douglas and ??? (I actually can’t remember who but I THINK it was Burt Lancaster). Both men are dead, they never came forward to say it was either of them after their deaths. That leaves Kirk Douglas.

To add to this, I read a long time ago that Dennis Hopper and Jackie Estes accused him of raping her. They actually named him. Whether she confided in them at some stage or not, I’m not sure of. But as far as I can remember, he never defended himself or denied it.We know from the man himself that he liked brutal sex, that he physically abused women, and that he liked young girls. You can argue that none of that makes someone exclusively a rapist but he sounds like a sick fuck to me.

Jean Spangler too because the moron (Kirk) rang the police to say it wasn’t him. The police never suspected it was him in the first place. The whole story is on her wiki if you want a brief read. Did I also mention that she’s been missing for 70 years?

So please. Continue to defend him. Go search for proof of a 1950′s rape case. Even if you truly, deeply believe he is not a rapist, don’t forget his own admittance in his book over his vile and abusive behaviour towards women.

Don’t message me again. Anything you want to read is online. Visit Natalie Wood blogs and ask questions, they are far more equipped to explain the details than I am, that’s for sure.

And please. For the love of everything that’s good....don’t jump in and defend someone who is a rapist. Even if you love them and don’t want to hear it. Seriously, it’s fucking cringe.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Sun 3 Feb

Louis! All it took was a single Instagram post and he's trending on Tumblr and taking back his place in the forefront of the conversation. We're but putty in his beautiful strong tiny hands and when we get new music after a year and change of pent up anticipation? Well I, for one, welcome death, and will bop my way straight to the underworld. Jordan Green labeled the studio pic of Lou from yesterday LT1 in his post, GET EXCITED Y'ALL!

Some fans are concerned about the wording of his update tweet though, asking if just now hearing the master means it wasn't really done before even though he said it was and if we can't believe his tweets then.... well lemme stop you right there! No! Mastering is the final step after which you can't make any more changes but it's done after the recording is completed, it's like making the final plates you print a book from, you can read a finished copy of the book before that but you need printer plates/music masters to mass produce and distribute a thing. It means that sucker is in the can, at the presses, the fork is stuck in it, the fat lady Louis is singing, it's fucking READY TO DROP!

In less cheerful news, also in the chatter today is Ally Brooke's story of being prevented from releasing music by her label and what light it might shed on Louis' situation. A picture of the two of them hugging at the Simon Cowell Hollywood Blvd star ceremony gained a whole new element of poignancy in this context, and it was pointed out that they were the only members of their respective bands who had to go to that dumb shit.

Meanwhile, the Sun is out there seriously claiming to be reporting on Liam's sex life with Naomi Campbell in really unasked for detail via a "source" suuuure Jan no doubt. I doubt anyone is surprised but it's unpleasant regardless and just really uncalled for. Neither they nor anyone else has anything to say about his music or album of late and that, friends, is a damn shame. I love seeing James Bond Clark Kent fashion Lima every week, you bet, but Liam in the studio? Doing something all his own? I'd like to see that too.

But credit where it's due, not all press is so vile! Harry publicity is still riding the Queer Eye wave, trending and getting them articles. Gay Times UK reports on them appearing together and lest you think they're just there for what the QE guys are up to, no, they dedicate a nice chunk of space to talking about Harry's fans raising over 30k for queer charities this year for his birthday. It was a very tactful way to include Harry as a part of the LGBTQ narrative without any awkward labeling, imo.

And Niall, an equal opportunity sports enthusiast, replied to Twitter user niallmendes to let us know that he is pumped to go see some women's golf in April, and inzayn posted lots of footage from a super cool looking Icarus Falls listening party in Brazil.

[canaryatlaw]

well, today was draining. not in a great place emotionally at the moment, I’ll get into that. I woke up at 9:30 to my alarm and met Jess for brunch at the vegetarian place, once we finished there we walked back to where her car was parked by her apartment and started our thrift store adventures for the day. The goal was to find jean jackets to send to one of our friends who paints them with custom stuff that’s very cool. So we started at a salvation army that’s north of us that we don’t normally go to and that didn’t have much, so we moved on to our regular stops, hitting up a few salvation armies. Somewhere in the middle of this I opened twitter to find that Christian blogger and author Rachel Held Evans had died early this morning after being in the hospital for about two weeks. She was 37 and left behind two little kids- a 3 year old boy and a girl who’s not even 1 yet. To say I was gutted by this news would be an understatement, but I’ll get more into that later. We eventually found jackets at a unique thrift store, then went on to the big salvation army to see if there were any other things we wanted to pick up but ended up not getting anything. so we drove back to Jess’ place and I walked home from there. Once I got home I had some lunch, and then made a quick run to the grocery store to grab some ingredients for my culinary projects of the day as well as the meals I’m going to be cooking during the week. Once I got back I moved on to said culinary projects, the first of which being making cookie dough for this recipe that’s supposed to be the best chocolate chip cookies, they’ve never been my favorite but I still like them and the recipe seemed to have a lot of potential, so I spent a while putting that together and then letting the dough chill in the fridge overnight as part of the process to “develop deeper flavors” or some shit like that. I then moved on to phase two which I’m not going to get into the details of right now because it’s going to be a surprise for somebody so that’s gonna be a secret for now, but suffice to say it turned out very well and I’m pleased with it. Somewhere in all of this I ended up getting into a bit of a tiff with my dad over text, he texted me saying that my mom was at a pro-life rally in times square and he was watching the live stream online. okay sure that’s all nice, but the organization hosting the rally happened to also be extremely anti-LGBT and huge proponents of conversion therapy and has gone as far as telling Christian parents to throw their lgbt children out of their houses. So I texted my dad saying I couldn’t really take them seriously knowing their disregard for the lives of vulnerable LGBT children, and he said you can’t equate the two, and I responded that you can’t separate the two- if you want to claim the moniker “pro-life” you must be pro EVERY life, no matter if it’s convenient for you or not. So he responded with something like well can you be pro-life and support the death penalty? and I was like ?????? no?????? how is that even a question???? that’s inherently hypocritical on so many levels. I guess he didn’t want to fight anymore because he just responded “ok” to that, but I was really worked up about all of it, and of course that being compounded by the loss the progressive Christian community suffered this morning I was feeling quite emotional about it. Once that was all done I grabbed my computer and sat down on the couch, and put on the last few episodes of the big family cooking showdown. More so during this time though I started going through tweets and hashtags about Rachel Held Evans (RHE) and just ended up crying a lot, for a while. I really can’t explain in words how much her work meant to me. It’s really not an exaggeration to say she basically saved my faith when I was ready to walk away from a church I felt had betrayed me and everything I’d been taught. I first started really following her in 2014, specifically after the “World Vision Incident” that was the final straw for me and any form of evangelicalism. I didn’t know where to go from there, and her work showed me that God is so much bigger than the efforts of flawed human beings, and while they might fail me they do not have a monopoly on Christianity and there is plenty of room for those who disagree with cancelling child sponsorships because the organization dared allow gay Christian employees to work for them. This was even before Trump came on the scene and seemingly every evangelical completely abandoned all of the beliefs they raised me in to follow a hateful, vile man, including my own parents. The feeling of betrayal was so real and so raw. If I didn’t wholeheartedly know that God was real and that I could be a Christian without affirming any of that, I absolutely would’ve lost my faith. And my faith is so important to me. It’s what keeps me going every day, it’s what makes me want to make the world a better place, it’s what gives me so much passion and fire behind my convictions. So I ended up spending most of the night going through those tweets and basically just crying for most of the time. When I was done with the cooking show I switched to cable to see what was on and discovered Adam Sandler was hosting SNL (I hadn’t even processed that it would be on) so I watched that for the rest of the night while continuing to go through tweets and articles and crying. And I felt so convicted by the realization that she was only 10 years older than me, and she accomplished so much in her life. Can I do nearly as much in the next 10 years? I don’t know. I’ve felt so discouraged lately about all of it because the job situation has been so bleak and it feels impossible for me to actually get a job that I want to do, that actually allows me to help people. I feel so stuck by it all. But. But God. I am renewed with hope and belief that the right things will fall together and I will be able to pursue the passion that I know God put in my heart, even if I can’t do it right away. So yeah, a lot of heavy stuff swirling around my brain for the night. After SNL I showered and got ready for bed and now I’m here, it’s past 2 am and I have church in the morning; at least I get an extra half hour of sleep because I’m in the babies room for the last service, so I don’t have to get there earlier than the start of the second service, so there’s that at least, but I’m still going on 6 hours of sleep if I fall asleep....now. So I should definitely go to bed now, hopefully my heavy heart will be somewhat lighter when I awake. Goodnight lovelies. Hope you had a lovely Saturday.

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 12

Sleep eluded me after our parking lot conversation. Tom and I had taken a long bath together, during which neither of us were injured, surprisingly, then went down to the beach so we could listen to the waves crashing on the rocks prior to retiring for the night. Luke and Simon had popped out for a quick hello and a late night swim, then disappeared again into the privacy of their suite. I was beginning to think they might have us beat as far as incorrigible went, then quickly stopped myself before my mind wandered into what-has-been-seen-can-never-be-unseen territory.

Tom was out like a light in a matter of minutes, while I tossed and turned like a dog with a bad case of fleas. I knew it was pointless to continue to try and doze off, so I said fuck it and decided to get up and attempt to get some work done. I wormed my way out from under Tom’s leg, climbed out of bed, put on some shorts, grabbed my laptop and headed for the door. He mumbled incoherently in his sleep, and I waited until he was silent again before I opened it, padding in my bare feet through the soundless house and out onto the lanai.

After trying to determine whether to go with a horizontal or a vertical menu on Tom’s site for forty-two minutes, I called it quits and perused Twitter comments instead. Alani’s tweet had amassed the most, and screenshots had spread to Tumblr. Honestly, I was glad of the way she’d mentioned me in such a specific context …there was very little, if any, speculation about whether or not I was, in fact, his girlfriend. Everything was out in the open, which I always thought was the best choice. Though the initial negativity was far worse than if the topic’s legitimacy was in question, it would likely die down much more quickly. That’s how it had worked for clients in the past, anyway. Hopefully my methodology would apply to my own situation as well.

My revelation regarding my weight plagued me…I replayed what I’d said over and over, and I wished I’d gone into greater detail. I hadn’t meant to impose a blanket statement that being overweight was unhealthy, or that it made one unworthy of attention from the opposite sex – or the same sex, or both, whichever was personally preferable, of course. That’s not what I believed, at all. Quite the contrary. Beauty comes in all shapes, colors and sizes and is entirely dependent upon the eye of the beholder, and if said beholder opts to eliminate certain sizes from their pool of eligible candidates, that’s their choice. And their loss.  

And as far as health was concerned…illness doesn’t discriminate based upon the number on the scale. It can strike anyone, at any time, and originates from a multitude of factors that are more often than not out of our control entirely. Unfortunately for me, a poor genetic inheritance and horrifically nutritionally deficient diet, combined with an excess of weight and my wickedly sedentary lifestyle had compromised my health considerably. Losing weight seemed to be a better option than medication, though there were many, many days on which I questioned that choice. Usually while sweating my ass off, literally, on the treadmill in some hotel gym. In all honesty, if I hadn’t been diagnosed with early stage diabetes, I probably wouldn’t have changed a thing about the way I lived my life.

“Maude, think about something else, you schmuck. This is a rabbit hole you do NOT want to go down at 2 AM.”

I sighed. Too late.

I’d told Tom there were reasons for me putting on a significant amount of weight, and my sleep deprived brain decided that this was the ideal time to refresh my memory as to what they were. I tapped my finger on the table and quietly ticked them off out loud.

“Let’s see, we’ve got… pain, anger, grief, depression, replacing one addiction with another, self-medicating, a convenient excuse that allowed me to reside in my fortress of solitude without constantly having to justify it to everyone because they’d be inclined to think ‘oh, she’s alone because she’s fat, you know, the poor thing’, and, my favorite, to spite my mother. Okay, maybe that’s not my favorite. Because food is fucking delicious. That’s my favorite. Plus, cardio sucks balls.”

Groaning, I crossed my arms on the table and rested my head on them, intending to collect my thoughts and get back to work. I woke up four hours later in a puddle of drool with Simon yammering in my ear.

“ ‘ello, Polly. Wakie Wakie!”

I raised my head and wiped the saliva off my face with my forearm.

“Ewe, Maude, that is so thoroughly vile. Were you out here all night?”

I nodded. “Don’t you even dare to ask me if I’m doing yoga with you today. I feel like grim death.”

He patted my head. “You look like it, too. But your excuses mean nothing to me. Shut up and go get your mat.”

I lowered my chin to my chest, peeled myself off of the chair and shuffled into the house, nearly smacking right into Tom as I opened our bedroom door. Brows raised, he pulled me inside and into his arms.

“Couldn’t sleep again?” I shook my head. “Want to talk about it?”

I shrugged, wishing I could talk about it, but knowing that anything I’d say would require additional context that I was not willing to supply. “Just another bout of insomnia brought on by chronic over analysis of every minute detail of my existence.”

“Oh, that’s all, is it?”

I feigned surprise. “What, that doesn’t happen to you?”

He grinned. “It does. Quite often, actually. But the sheer physical exhaustion that results from your incessant attentions seems to have solved that particular problem for the time being.” He ground his erection against me. “This problem, however, persists.”

“And it’s such big problem, too.” I bit his shoulder gently, then pulled back to look at his face. That beautiful, talented pink tongue was peeking out just the slightest bit from between his lips and I damn near lost my shit. He winked at me.

I poked him in the chest. “Well, Thomas, since you’re…up…why don’t you join me for some yoga?”

He rolled his eyes. “You mean you and Simon. I abhor doing yoga with Simon.”

I tilted my head. “Seriously? Why?”

He pinched my nose between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers, shaking gently. “Because he’s so much better at it than I am, that’s why.”

It was my turn for eye rolling as I walked to the wardrobe to grab a bra, pulled off my sleeping shirt and slipped the bra straps over my hands, up my arms and backed towards him. “Hook a sister up, wouldja?”

He lifted the cups up over my breasts, tweaked both nipples, then wrestled them back into place and licked my neck as he connected the clasps. I moaned and pulled away. After putting on a fresh shirt, I turned around and walked past him toward the door, slapping him on the ass as I went.

“Nice try, Thomas, but we’re still doing yoga. Now you put on a fucking shirt and get that ass moving.”

He followed me. “Sorry, no.”

“Fine. I’ll just keep my eyes closed.”

“You won’t.”

I sighed. “No. I won’t.”

Simon’s snarkiness was at orange alert status due to Tom’s presence, and watching the two of them compete was wildly amusing. Tom was right, Simon was better, but watching Tom do yoga shirtless was better than any porno I’d ever seen. A light sheen of sweat coated his skin, and when he moved into camel pose I made a…sound. A gasp? A moan? A dying whale noise? I honestly couldn’t label it properly.

Simon turned his head to the side so he could face me without breaking his pose.

“What the hell was THAT, woman?”

“Nothing. Got a cramp. Just a little cramp. I’ll be fine. Carry on.”

He moved his arms above his head, brought them forward and sat on his haunches. He looked over at Tom, then back at me. “Mmm hmm. Cramp. Thomas, if you wouldn’t mind concealing your torso beneath some clothing next time so your girlfriend won’t blow my focus with her inappropriate vocalizations I’d be ever so appreciative.”

Tom chortled. “I’m rather fond of her inappropriate vocalizations, especially when she’s blo…”

Simon put is fingers in his ears and chanted loudly. “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA…”

I grabbed my iPod and put my earbuds in, hoping music would distract me. It was a successful strategy for the most part, and I felt myself shifting into the transcendent space that was the reason for me deciding upon yoga for both physical and mental fitness. Tom almost ruined it when I caught him staring at me during my easy plow pose, but I managed to breathe through it. While doing my cool down stretches, I wondered if the intense sexual chemistry between us and the overwhelming desire it fostered was because we were so new to each other, or if it was always going to be like this. I smiled, recalling Diana Gabaldon’s brilliant prose in Outlander, when Jamie is addressing Claire.

“Does it ever stop? The wanting you?“ "Even when I’ve just left ye. I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.”

When I’d read it years ago, I thought it was beautifully written, but, you know, fictional. Filed under ‘shit that never happens in real life’. For once, I was totally okay with having been wrong about something.

We discussed our options for the holiday over a breakfast of the most mouth-wateringly delicious sausage, egg and cheese burritos I’d ever tasted. I wanted to work for a while, but that was shot down in a chorus of noes and ‘but-it’s-a-holiday’s. Our final destination of the evening would be the Nawiliwili Tavern, which was back on the other side of the island near the Marriott. It so happened that this was the first Saturday of the month, and that’s when Kaua’i’s gay community gathered there to celebrate with drink specials and, much to my wicked delight, karaoke. I needed to see Luke doing karaoke. It was inexplicable, but I just knew I NEEDED it to happen or I couldn’t go on with my life.

Since I’d yet to park my ass on a proper beach after an entire week on the island, I offered it up as my next suggestion. It was well received. Kalapaki Beach was a 14 mile ride from the house, but less than a mile from Nawiliwili Tavern. Available activities included volleyball, surf lessons, catamaran cruises, stand up paddle boarding, kayaking and body and boogie boarding, none of which I was interested in but were certain to keep my companions occupied if sitting on a lounge and reading all day wasn’t their idea of fun.

Simon got to work assembling a picnic lunch, Luke and Tom each had another burrito, and I hit the shower. Afterward, I sat on the bed wrapped in my towel as I waited to air dry enough so I could squeeze into my bathing suit. Tom walked in, bent down to kiss me, rammed his tongue in my mouth, then dropped his shorts and paraded around the corner for his turn under the spray.

I packed a small bag before dressing since we wouldn’t be coming back home…black Birkenstocks, a pair of hiking shorts, a black V-neck tee shirt, underwear, a bra, hair ties, my beach towel, Finders Keepers, Neuromancer, my iPod, my phone and my glasses. Just in case.

My bathing suit was still buried at the bottom of my suitcase, but it didn’t look any worse for wear when I shook it out. It was black, halter style, with cutouts along both sides and a built in strapless bra so I wouldn’t look like Saggytits McSaggerton. Anyone who claims to have natural double D’s with nipples that point anywhere other than down is utterly full of shit. Or maybe that should be udderly. I was still giggling to myself when I heard the shower turn off, and I quickly tossed my gauzy black cover-up over my head and slipped on the pair of flip flops I’d also unearthed from my suitcase.

Tom came out, dripping wet, towel slung low around his hips. I told him I’d meet him in the living room and used the half bath in the hall for my last pee so I wouldn’t have to watch him dress, then helped Simon gather beverages and put them in the cooler. We decided to take the car instead of the Jeep as it had actually room for all our stuff, including the folding lounge chairs we’d found in the garage. Luke volunteered to drive on the way there if I’d be the designated driver on the way back home tonight, which was fine with me since I knew I’d be sober. I figured he did as well and hoped he’d keep it to himself, then wondered how the hell I’d handle it when the subject finally came up. Because it would. It always did.

************************************************** The beach was surprisingly empty…by my standards, anyway. Try the Jersey Shore on July 4th…you’d have to get there at the crack of dawn to get a decent spot, and someone would fucking steal it if you went to get a snack or use the restroom. Perhaps it was because there was a lot more beachfront to choose from here, or maybe everyone was boating or something, but I was thrilled that I wouldn’t be spending the day elbow to elbow with strangers.

We managed to get everything in one trip and set ourselves up about twenty feet back from the shoreline. I unfolded my chair, pulled Neuromancer out of my bag and set it gently on the sand, then relieved myself of my cover-up. Simon whistled loudly when he saw my suit.

“Maude, you look like a 1950’s pin up model in that thing. Those cutouts…va va va VOOM!”

Tom had his back to me, but spun around upon hearing Simon’s comment. He looked me up and down, then again. And again. I made a mental note to do some lingerie shopping ASAP, then plopped down in my chair with all the grace of a drunken hippo on rollerskates as I released a long, triumphant sigh.

“Ass in lounge chair. Goal achieved. Sand trophy awarded. Beach level unlocked.”

Tom leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I have my own goal to achieve, you know…and it also involves that luscious ass of yours. What’s the optimal way for me to go about unlocking it, Maude?”

I closed my eyes, hung my head down, shook it, then looked up and spoke through gritted teeth. “God, do you have any idea how much I hate being beaten at my own game?”

“I do now.” He grinned, then ran down the beach and into the ocean.

Over the course of the day I read most of Neuromancer, and Tom bought a copy for his tablet to read along with me. We paused after each chapter to discuss, noting the parallels between Gibson’s text and modern technology as well as how much the Matrix had liberally borrowed from his work. I was coerced into playing volleyball, despite citing that my bathing suit and my boobs were not meant for such activities. My refusal to jump led to a stunning loss, at which point Luke and Simon decided to go paddle boarding. Tom and I walked the shoreline, quietly enjoying each others company as we left our footprints behind in the wet sand. He ran in front of me, squatted down and drew a heart with an arrow through it and our initials in it. I rolled my eyes, squatted and drew two stick people fucking doggie style. We giggled like ten-year-olds as we ran away from our creations.

Luke was sitting on one of the lounges scrolling through his phone, and Simon was setting up lunch on a blanket he’d spread out when we returned from our walk. His culinary skills were mind-blowing…pesto, tomato and fresh mozzarella sandwiches served on toasted garlic bread, a platter of paper thin prosciutto, and little cups of mascarpone and dark chocolate cream topped with white chocolate shavings for desert. I glared at Luke, who had eaten his entire meal with his phone in his hand.

“Um, are you working over there, Luke?”

He looked up, frowning slightly. “I know, I know. I’m the one who said ‘but it’s a holiday’. We’re still getting lots of queries from prospective clients, though. And I’m not sure how to handle them all.”

“I’ll help you with it, if you want. Tomorrow. Now put that away and enjoy the day.” I laughed at my unintentional rhyme. “Damn, I’m funny when I’m not even trying.”

Simon grunted. “If you say so.”

I flipped him off, got up from my spot on the blanket and returned to my lounge chair, Tom already draped over the one to my left. He took my hand, I closed my eyes, and dozed off straight away, wiped out from my lack of sleep the night before.

My nap was rudely interrupted by Tom, bent over and shaking my shoulder gently.

“Maude, love, wake up.”

My eyelids fluttered open and I smacked his hand away. “Yeah. Fine. Awake. Why?”

He tipped his head back and to the right. “We’ve been spotted. Just fans, probably. No paparazzi yet.”

I yawned, stretching my arms above my head as I sat up to look and take a head count. Five, so far, about twenty feet away, phones raised. Three adults, two children. Adults were women, children a boy and a girl. Luke was in front of them, back to us, holding up his hands, saying something that I couldn’t quite make out over the roar of the waves. Simon was hovering nearby, watching and waiting.  

I hoisted myself out of the chair and stood next to Tom. I elbowed him in the side.

“Come on, cowboy. Let’s go do this.” I rooted in my bag, searching for my phone.

I felt his hand grasp my forearm, and I glanced up at him. He was staring at me, eyes wide.  “Really? This is all right with you?”

I shrugged. “They’re just people. One smile from you will make their day, and then some. So, why not? Spend a few minutes, they’re happy, they leave, it’s done and we’re back to being beach bums.” He shook his head in disbelief. “What? Is it really so shocking that I practice what I preach?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe it’s that I’m just not used to…?”

I interjected. “…having someone around who doesn’t think that they’re several rungs higher on the social ladder than the folks who are a huge part of what makes your successful career possible?”

“Oh, I like that. Let’s go with that.”

Twenty minutes later, the crowd had dispersed, Luke had informed me that I was a natural at wrangling fans as well as Tom and that this was my one true calling, and Simon was itching to move on to Nawiliwili Tavern before the crowds hit the beaches in hopes of getting a better view of the fireworks. I’d forgotten that sand was so intrusive and decided to shower before changing in one of the stalls provided, Tom keeping watch for me. I did the same while he rinsed and dressed. Simon and Luke were wearing matching Hawaiian shirts, which I thought was adorable, though the shirts themselves were hideous. Tom emerged wearing a tight white V-neck and tan shorts, and I wondered how in the hell I was going to make it through the evening without spontaneously combusting.

Simon, several yards in front of us with Luke as we all walked back to the car, began chanting, fists in the air. “KARaoke, KARaoke, KARaoke!”

Tom gave me a lopsided grin, eyes alight with mischief. “Care to wager on Luke’s participation again, Maude?”

“What stakes?”

“A late night dalliance of the oral persuasion, underneath the moon and stars? Winner is the receiver.”

“You’re on. Though that’s not really much of an incentive.”

His mouth dropped open. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll enjoy it just as much whether I win or lose.”

He sucked my earlobe into his mouth, then flicked it repeatedly with his tongue. “Are you certain that’s the case?”

“Not anymore.”

“Good.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom. Terms?”

“Guess how many alcoholic beverages he’ll need to consume before he’s loosened up enough to sing in front of an entire bar. We each pick a number, one closest without going over wins. I choose five. Absolutely NO coercion or interference from either of us.”

“Fine. I’m going with two.”

He laughed. “Luke needs to be intoxicated in order to sing, period. He doesn’t even sing in the car, to the best of my knowledge. So very many drinks would be required for him to perform in public that he’ll likely pass out first. You won’t win.”

“Yes. I will.  I’m already plotting all the things I’m going to make you do with that tongue of yours….”  

“Damn.”

“Damn right.”

************************************************** From the outside, the Nawiliwili Tavern is an unassuming white building with green and red accents. Inside, it’s a quirky, homey, wood-laden watering hole with televisions everywhere, a horseshoe shaped bar, a Foosball table, a pool table, lots of neon and local artifacts aplenty. Karaoke happened right smack in the middle of all the action, and when we walked in the place was packed, with a grey-haired gentleman in a white tank top and Bermuda shorts belting out Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’. There wasn’t an official dance floor, but that didn’t seem to hamper the crowd’s enthusiasm as they moved and shook in place.

Simon turned to me and grabbed my hands, shouting above the din. “Maude, I have found my people. And if they’re my people, I’m thinking they might just be your people, too. Are they your people?”

I nodded as he dragged me closer to the sound system speakers, still shouting. “LET US DANCE WITH OUR PEOPLE!”

Luke and Tom joined us after the song had ended and things quieted down as the next person browsed the available selections. Luke had two Blue Hawaii drinks, one for himself and the other for Simon, and Tom had something that looked like orange juice in a hurricane glass and what I assumed was a Coke for me.

He smiled widely and handed me the tumbler. “Nice moves there, darling. Since you’re the designated driver I brought you a soda. They don’t have Coke, only Pepsi. Hope that’s acceptable.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I guess I’ll just have to make do.” I kissed his cheek, then pointed to his drink. “Thank you. Now, tell me what the hell that thing is.”

He caressed the side of the glass, running his fingers over its curves. “This is a Tropical Itch. Rum, vodka passion orange juice and orange curacao. Bamboo backscratcher included at no extra charge.” He took a sip, then offered me one.

I shook my head. “I’m driving, remember?”

He pouted. “So there’s no chance of me getting you snockered and having my way with you?”

I snorted.  “Riiight. Because you haven’t had your way with me already.” I grabbed his ass and he emitted a low hiss.

“Minx.” His tone seemed…off. I looked up at him, noting that his expression didn’t quite align with his words, either. He met my gaze, then shifted his eyes to the side for a moment, then back to me as he smiled softly. I knew instantly that the topic of my lack of participation in the consumption of alcohol had reared its ugly head while he and Luke were ordering drinks, and that he’d offered me a sip and posed his suggestive question in the hopes that I’d volunteer an answer to another question…the one he’d rather not have to ask.

It wasn’t as if I’d never been down this road before, but that didn’t make it any less awkward. And this time, I actually gave a shit about the reaction I’d get, which was terrifying but I decided it wouldn’t get any less awkward as time went on. And if I was lucky, he wouldn’t press me for too much background information.  

Taking a deep breath, I put my hand on his forearm and looked into his eyes. “To answer your question…no, Tom, I don’t drink. Historically, alcohol and I make incredibly poor bedfellows, so I’ve made it a point to abstain. Hope that doesn’t pose a problem.” I swallowed and cast my gaze downward as he put a hand on my shoulder.

“How did you know…I…lord, you…I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to you seemingly reading my thoughts, though I certainly do adore it.” He kissed me briefly, his lips soft and warm, slightly sweet with orange and passionfruit juice. “I’m very sorry, Maude. When we were at the bar I initially ordered two Tropical Itches and Luke looked at me as if I had three heads and said ‘don’t tell me you’re such a dolt that you haven’t noticed that she doesn’t drink’, and apparently I am such a dolt because, I hadn’t. I asked if you told him why and he said you hadn’t even told him you didn’t but unlike me he actually possesses observational skills so he picked up on it and that it wasn’t anyone’s business but yours and if you wanted me to know you’d tell me, but…”

He paused, waiting for a response from me. I met his gaze but remained silent.

“I…Maude…of course it’s not a problem for me, not at all…but…is it a problem for you that I do drink? I suppose if it was you would have mentioned it or run for the hills already…shit, I…please, say something before I make an even bigger arse of myself, won’t you?”

“You aren’t making an arse of yourself, Tom. That’s an odd word, isn’t it? Arse. Doesn’t sit well on the tongue.” He raised his left eyebrow, smirking just the tiniest bit. “Other people’s drinking preferences are of no concern to me as long as they don’t impact my own existence in a seriously detrimental fashion.” I patted his bicep. “For the record, abysmal drunken singing is not automatically considered to be seriously detrimental. That’s a case by case basis kind of thing.”

He crossed his hands at the wrist and put them on his chest, right above his heart. “I am deeply offended that you believe my singing will be…abysmal.”

I shrugged. “I was actually referring to the lovely woman currently butchering ‘We Built This City’, which is bad enough when sung on key. But if you think the shoe fits, prove me wrong, Thomas. Get in the karaoke line.”

He leaned down, frowning as he touched his forehead to mine. “You okay?”

“Good, actually. I’ve been dreading that whole conversation. I always wind up feeling like a freak show because the general consensus is that if you don’t party there must be something really, really wrong with you.’”

“Again, my apologies. If you ever want to talk about it…”

“Someday. Thank you. And no need to apologize. By our own admissions, there’s still a ton of shit we don’t know about each other yet. Please, never be afraid to ask me questions, Tom. I’ll always answer as best I can.” I chuckled.

“What?”

“At least you didn’t ask me if it was because it’s against my religion.”

“You’ve been asked that?”

“Yes. Yes I have.”

“Might I inquire as to what your reply was?”

“Let’s just say the conversation went sideways. And that the person hasn’t spoken to me since.” His brow furrowed. “Turned out they didn’t appreciate being lectured on the impact of religion on personal freedom and how it was engineered from the start as a means of controlling the populous…”

Simon came bounding over and put his arm around my waist. “Time for singing, Maude. Let’s go.”

I raised both eyebrows and handed Tom my soda. “Um, okay…mind telling me WHAT it is we’re singing?”

He poked his index finger at my chest. “We will be performing one of my personal favorites – ‘It’s Raining Men’ by the Weather Girls.”

Tom threw his head back and laughed, then fished his phone out of his pocket and waved it at me.

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Film away, baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back in the habit of tweeting more than once every hundred years.”

We sang, we danced, and by the end of the song most of the bar had joined in. After enjoying a round of applause, Simon and I found Tom and Luke in the crowd and pushed and shoved our way to them. I sucked down my entire soda and set the glass on the nearest table while Luke handed Simon a Tropical Itch. He was still nursing his first Blue Hawaii. Simon kissed his cheek.

“Your turn, love. Come sing with me.”

I grinned evilly at Tom. He shook his head. Luke handed me his drink.

“Watch this for me, will you?” I nodded, and Simon passed off his beverage to Tom. I pulled out my phone since I had a hand free, then realized I was way too fucking short to be able to get anything other than the heads of the people in front of me. Tom had set the rest of the drinks on a table, and took Luke’s from me and put it there as well. He held out his hand, palm up.

“May I do the honors?”

I handed over my phone. “Please do. I can’t see for shit.”

He took my hand and worked his way to the front of the crowd so he was directly in front of Luke and Simon, then moved behind me. When the first notes of the song hit my ears and I realized it was ‘I Got You Babe’ I believe I may have actually squealed with delight. Luke did Sonny’s parts, and Simon did Cher’s. It was adorable, the depth of their feelings for each other so blatantly apparent that it moved me to tears. I felt Tom’s arm slip around my waist, followed by him kissing the back of my neck. Looking around the room, I saw that nearly every other couple was entwined in some way, swaying to the music. Tom managed to capture it all, and as soon as the song ended I grabbed the phone and logged into Twitter.

My boss, Luke. My co-worker (and Luke’s fiancé), Simon. Karaoke USUALLY only makes me cry because the singing is SO very bad. #happytearstonightthough  #igotyoubabe #tooadorable #thisjobgetsbetterandbetter

Tom whispered in my ear as he slowly lowered his hand from my waist to my belly. “Well, it appears you’ve won again, Maude. I’m anxiously awaiting the settlement of my debt.”

“You should stop talking, Thomas. Rest that tongue.” He pressed me back against him and I could feel him hard against my ass. I clenched, knowing his hand was in just the right spot to feel everything tighten. His groan almost made me come right there, in the middle of the bar.

“Maaaaauuuuddee.” He bit my neck, and as I turned my head to the side to allow him better access I noticed a woman a few feet away with her camera pointed in our direction. I waved, hearing her gasp as she quickly turned around. I chuckled, and Tom mumbled into my neck. “What’s funny?”

“Prepare yourself, dude. I just caught some woman taking pictures of us…which are totally going to show up on Tumblr any second now.”

“Good. I want the world to know you’re all mine.” He growled and laved the spot he’d bitten with his tongue, then released me as Simon and Luke approached us. “I do believe it’s time for my abysmal performance.”

I rolled my eyes and burst into song. “Let it go, let it GOOOOO…” He blew me a kiss and began perusing the song catalog.

Simon crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “He’ll do Piano Man. I guarantee it.”

I shrugged. “I have no point of reference for his karaoke habits, so I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”

When Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’ began to play, Simon’s jaw dropped and he patted his pockets frantically as he tried to locate his phone. “Well, fuck me. This is definitely not ‘Piano Man’! Shit, where is my phone?!”

I handed him mine. “Will you film so I can watch him, please?”

He pinched my cheek. “No, let’s make Luke do it. I can’t stand still during this song.”

Luke sighed, but obliged. Since Tom had taken center stage, so to speak, more people began to recognize him. Cameras were raised all around the bar, some patrons standing on tables to get a better view. I heard him singing, and was surprised at how good he sounded, but the majority of my focus was directed upon watching him move. His hips gyrating, pelvis thrusting, spinning with his arms extended, jawline and cheekbones so perfectly shadowed in the dim lighting of the bar. I was sure I heard ‘get Loki’ from somewhere in the crowd a few times, which made me grin like an idiot. It was all over before I could truly process what I’d just witnessed, the sound of the crowd clapping and cheering snapping me back to reality as I watched him bow deeply several times. As he strode toward me, everything else faded in to a blur, and all I saw was Tom. He picked me up and spun me around as if I was as light as a feather, then set me down and dipped me as he kissed me. His smile as he set me upright again nearly made me swoon.

“Well? Was it as terrible as you expected?”

I punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up, asshole. You’re well aware that you were fucking amazing.”

Simon gave my phone back. “Post it, Maude. POST IT.”

Oh look, it’s this guy again. Karaoke. Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’. You’ve never seen it done like this before, trust me. You’re welcome. :) #upallnightforgoodfun? #indeed

Luke’s phone dinged. He checked it, and suddenly his head lolled back, eyes closed, mouth open and tongue protruding.

Simon snorted. “Whoops, I think you finally did him in with that one, honey.”

Tom peeked at the screen over my shoulder and cackled. “Since it’s entirely your fault I expect you’ll be covering all of the funeral expenses?”

I wiggled my fingers and tickled Luke just under his armpit. He tried to maintain his composure but was unable to resist, finally dissolving into a puddle of giggles.

Simon shouted “IT’S ALIVE”, which earned him a huge hug and a rather lengthy kiss. I looked up and Tom, who firmly planted his hand on my back and walked me to the laptop that contained the song list.

“Your turn, my love.”

The left corner of my mouth turned down. “Um, you’re kind of a tough act to follow, you know.”

He shook his head. “I’ve heard you sing. No one will even remember what I did when you’re through.” He kissed my cheek and went to rejoin Luke and Simon, his phone in his hand, ready to record.

I considered Blondie’s ‘One Way or Another’ but decided it was a little too high for me in spots, thought about Adelle’s ‘Skyfall’, which was well within my range but not really a crowd pleaser, and then I found it. Amy Winehouse, ‘Back to Black’. A little raunchy at times, brutally honest and incredibly dark…rather like me. Perfection. It had been at least fifteen years since I’d sung in front of an audience of more than a few people in public, and they were forced to listen to me because we were in the grocery store or on a plane, but I was incredibly calm. I’d sung this one more times than I could remember, and I knew it inside out and upside down. I hit the button and grabbed the microphone, ready to roll.

Halfway through I noticed that the room had gone quiet, not a single sound to be heard other than the music and…me. I knew if I looked at Tom I’d fuck up royally, so I kept my eyes on the screen. When I finished the silence continued for what seemed like an eternity, broken suddenly by thunderous applause, whistles and cat calls. I bowed, then searched the faces around me, trying to find Tom. I saw Luke and Simon, but he wasn’t with them. I made my way over, head tilted, questioning.

Simon pointed to a nearby table. “Honey, you were so good the man had to go sit the fuck down. And I got it all on video. Luke filmed you, and I filmed Tom watching you. Your grandkids will thank me. Or throw up in their mouths a little. Something.”

I followed Simon’s finger, and there was Tom, sitting in a chair, legs spread wide, hands on his thighs, head down and looking at the floor. I approached him slowly, coming to rest between his legs. He wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my stomach. I put one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head, stroking his hair. I heard the first strains of Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ and turned to see Simon, mic in hand, doing his best impression of Rick’s dancing . I gently pried Tom’s arms from around me, slid down and squatted in front of him. His eyes were still directed at the hardwood floor. I leaned my head in and under in an attempt to get him to look at me.

“Hi there.” He raised his head ever so slowly, mouth turned up at the corners almost imperceptibly. His eyes wavered from angry to pained, aroused, and then to adoring as his emotions cycled. He stood, taking my hands and pulling me up with him, then let go so he could place them firmly on my shoulders as he stared at me.

His words came out haltingly, but firm. “I. Love. You.”

I reached out to cup his jaw and ran my thumb along his cheekbone. “And I love you.”

“That was both beautiful and terrible all at once, Maude.”

“Okaaaay…”

“There was so much pain in your voice…raw, naked, real pain.”

“Maybe I’m just a top-notch performer.”

He took two steps towards me, closing the gap between us, his hands still on my shoulders, eyes ablaze. “Is it wrong that I want to decimate whomever is responsible for that pain?”

I shook my head, wishing it was that simple. He let his hands slide down my arms until they were clutching my elbows.

“In addition to that, I’m overwhelmed with pride, joy, and, more than anything else, desire. Everything I’m feeling is a jumbled, incoherent mess and I need you in order to sort it all out. Right now. I need to be inside you, to feel you all around me, your skin against mine, flushed red by the pleasure we’re giving each other, enveloped by your scent…” His hands were shaking, eyes full of desperation. “I…I…just…I need you. I need you, lest I lose my fucking mind, Maude.”

It took all the willpower I possessed to not fuck him senseless right then and there. I felt in my pocket to make sure the car keys Luke had given me when we arrived were still there. Check. The vehicle was roomy enough, I thought, and the windows were darkly tinted to ensure the occupants could remain relatively anonymous. I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text to Simon, who was just finishing up and basking in the accolades bestowed upon him by the bar’s patrons.

We’re taking a little ride. Won’t be long, about thirty or forty minutes max. Everything’s fine, Tom just needs some air. - XO, M

Talk about uncharted fucking territory. I pushed any negative thoughts aside, telling myself that yes, it is perfectly normal and absolutely possible to grow to love someone so deeply in such a short period of time that you began to need them as much as you needed…well, air. I took Tom by the hand and led him out to the parking lot, and he hesitated when I opened the door for him.

“Maude?”

“Get in the car, Tom.” He complied. I hopped in, put on my seat belt, turned the engine over, put it in reverse and backed out of the parking space. I forgot to brake as I tried to shift it into drive, corrected myself, and headed down the road to find what I was looking for. Two miles down, there it was. A large office complex, dimly lit and completely deserted as it had been when we passed it on the way to the bar. Since it was a holiday, I was reasonably sure it would remain that way. As I pulled into the lot Tom finally realized what I was up to. He unbuckled his seat belt, leaned into me and began licking the hollow between my collarbones as he wriggled his hand under the waistband of my baggy shorts.

“You need to stop that or I’m going to wind up driving the car right through the fucking building.”

He ignored me and began rubbing my mound with the palm of his hand while he slipped three fingers inside me. I drove around to the rear of the property and parked as far back as I could, right next to a privacy fence. He climbed on top of me as soon as I put it park, devouring my mouth, his free hand in my hair as the other worked me into a frenzy. I rode his hand, fingernails raking up and down the back of his white V-neck, screaming his name as I came. He opened the driver side door, rose up off of me and gracefully exited the vehicle, hand extended. I took it, and he helped me up. Neither of us spoke.

I opened the trunk, searched for our beach towels and spread all of them across the back seat, tucking the edges into the space between the top and the bottom of the bench. I didn’t think it was nearly long enough for him to stretch out, but we’d most likely be able to fit without having to leave the door open. I turned around to find him completely naked, cock standing proudly erect. I yanked my T-shirt over my head while he unhooked my bra, taking a breast in each hand, bending to suck on my nipples in turn as I wiggled out of my shorts and underwear. He stood back to look at me in the moonlight, fireworks sounding off in the distance and reflecting in his eyes, then moved closer to touch my face with his fingertips. He pushed me backward gently, motioning for me to lie down on the seat. I squirmed as I did, struggling to find a comfortable position, and when I finally stilled he bent over, entered the car headfirst, closed the door behind him, then crawled between my legs and up my body like a cat. He looked as if he wanted to eat me alive, and I was SO totally fine with that.

I could feel him hard against me, poised at my entrance. He stared at me, unmoving, waiting. For what, I didn’t know. His voice startled me when he spoke.

“Will you let me make love to you, Maude?”

I raised my hips, shifting so the head of his cock slid into me. “Please, Thomas. Fuck me.” He pulled back and out of my reach.

“No. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to make love to you. Pleasure your body with the reverence it deserves.”

The realization that I had no idea what that actually meant hit me like a freight train. I panicked, then decided to opt for honesty.

“I don’t think I know how that’s supposed to work.”

“You let go and let me love you. That’s how it works.”

I frowned. “Still not getting it.”

He resumed staring at me, and it slowly dawned on me that what he so desperately needed was not just a physical connection, but an emotional one as well, wherein we focused on the way our bodies came together, instead of them just…coming. Two people becoming one. Possessing each other fully, completely. I twined my legs with his.

“Take me, Thomas. Make me yours.”

He thrust his tongue into my mouth as he sank into me, his lips finally closing over mine, our breath mingling. He propped himself up on his elbows, raised my hands so they lay beside my head, then wrapped his fingers around mine as he rested his full weight on me.

Our tongues danced around each other, pulling back, pushing forward, licking, mouths sucking, teeth biting. He lifted his head so he could meet my gaze as he began to move, a fraction of an inch at a time at first, finally pulling nearly all the way out then sheathing himself fully over and over again. I was panting, and the urge to clamp down on him was overwhelming, but I breathed deeply and concentrated on the way our bodies joined, fitting each other so perfectly, the way his cock felt when it was completely buried in my cunt, the way it dragged against my walls as he thrust in and pulled back again and again. This beautiful man above me, looking deep into my soul, making me feel like I was his entire world. And he was mine. There was nothing else, just us, skin on skin, pleasure emanating from where we connected, and I never wanted it to end.

I felt him twitch inside me, and our eyes locked. He sped up, full weight still on me, hips undulating like waves. My breasts moved with him as he rocked us, nipples rubbing against the hair on his chest, his pubic bone pressing deliciously against my clit with every thrust. The tension in my belly rose, setting me alight, the fire spreading throughout my entire body. When I began to shudder, he let go of my hands and slid both arms underneath me, raising my upper body to him, cradling me, one hand buried in my hair and holding my head, my name an invocation on his lips.

I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as if I were drowning and he was the only one who could save me, staring into his eyes as I…let go. It was almost an out of body experience, an orgasm that seemed to go on forever, involving every molecule that comprised the shell that housed my spirit. An explosion, bathing me in warm, bright light. And he was right there with me, coming and coming deep inside me, anointing our union with his essence.

I burst into tears, overcome with emotion. He moved his hands to my thighs, lifting me, and shifted us, still joined, to a sitting position so I was on his lap, holding me and rubbing my back as I sobbed against his neck.

“Shh, shh, I’m here, I’m here.”

The minutes ticked by, and as my storm subsided I lifted my head and brushed away my tears with my forearm, then placed my hands on either side of his face, leaning in close.

“I love you, Thomas. Sorry for falling apart. I…it’s…I…I’ve never experienced anything like what just happened before. Ever. Not even close. Thank you. For that. And for loving me.”

He rested his forehead against mine, eyes wet with tears of his own. “And oh, how I do love you. Please don’t be sorry, Maude. The fact that your feelings about me, about us, are so intense means…well, everything. And I’m the one should be thanking you. You gave me what I needed. You let me in. You let go. You gave me you. All of you.”

We held each other until I began tittering softly.

He cocked his head. “What?”

“Nothing.” He raised his brows at me. “Fine. It’s just…we’re having, like, this MOMENT and then I remembered that we’re naked in a fucking rental car in a parking lot on the 4th of July in Hawaii and that we totally ditched Simon and Luke at a bar like we’re a couple of fucking horny teenagers and…” I was laughing so hard that I thought I was going to pee my pants, and then I realized that I wasn’t wearing pants and that pushed me over the edge and I was crying again.

Tom’s laughter began as a low rumble in his chest, then escalated to full on guffawing, and soon enough we were both weeping and clutching at each other.

Once we could look at each other again without losing our shit, he grabbed the towel nearest to us and slipped it under me as I lifted myself off of him, then opened the car door to gather the clothes we’d strewn across the macadam. He dressed me, kissing me everywhere as he went. My ankles, the backs of my knees, my belly button, up and down my spine, my eyelids. When I wanted to return the favor he refused.

“If your lips even so much as graze my skin, we’ll never make it back to Nawiliwili tonight.”

Since he hadn’t even finished his first drink, I let him drive while I checked my phone. There was a text from Simon, sent five minutes ago.

Your forty minutes were up ten minutes ago, girlie. I’m a total slut for karaoke, but I don’t think my voice can take much more. Get your asses back here, please. – XO, S

I texted him back.

We’re on our way. Be there in two minutes. I’d say I’m sorry, but…I’m really not, so… - XO, M

He replied immediately.

Bitch. ;P – XO, S

We parked and walked in, hand in hand. Simon and Luke were chatting away with another couple, and as we approached them I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see the woman from earlier who’d been taking pictures of us. Tom looked at me, and I nodded and let go of his hand so he could go join Luke and Simon.

“Um, hi. I’m really sorry to bother you but I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about before. It was really wrong for me to take pictures of you guys when you’re just living your lives. That was a totally private moment. I mean, I wouldn’t want a stranger taking a picture of me and my boyfriend like that…anyway, I didn’t post them online or anything, and I deleted them off my phone. I was just really excited because I’m a big fan and…so, yeah. Sorry for being an asshole.”

I patted her arm and smiled. “Thank you for apologizing. And since you didn’t post them, you are absolutely not an asshole as far as I’m concerned. I completely understand how it happened. He’s just so damn beautiful, how could you not, right?” She laughed. “Want to meet him?”

She blushed and held up her hands. “Oh, no, no…I couldn’t, not after what I did, I feel like such a shit.”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on. And sorry, I forgot to ask…what’s your name?”

“Samantha.”

I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Samantha. I’m Maude.”

Her blush deepened. “I know.”

I brought her over to Tom, introduced her and took their picture, and when I told her it was fine to post it online she said she’d think about it but would probably have it printed instead. She thanked us and went back to her group of friends across the room. As Luke took a handful of glasses back to the bar, Simon pointed at me accusingly.

“You’ve had your fun, now I want mine. For the love of Christ, let’s get OUT of here already. And please tell me you’re a fast driver. Please.”

I nodded. “I am. But I’m not driving. Tom is.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oy. He drives like my grandpa. We’ll just have to fuck in the backseat on the way there then, I guess.”

Tom snickered, and I pretended to smack the back of his head.

Simon’s face scrunched up in disgust. “You didn’t. Did you?” I shrugged. “You did!”

Luke returned, brow furrowed. “Did what?”

Simon shook his head. “You don’t want to know. All I’m sayin’ is that I’m putting towels down before I sit in that car.”

I held up a finger. “Yeah. About those towels…”

[calacuspr]

Calacus Weekly Hit & Miss – Jordan Henderson & Narinder Batra

Every Monday we look at the best and worst communicators in the sports world from the previous week.

HIT – JORDAN HENDERSON

Communicating with fans is fundamental for any sports club or player, particularly during these lockdown times where engagement is even more challenging 

But the increase in online social media abuse has also become even more prevalent in recent months, with Thierry Henry declaring recently that he is deleting his accounts completely until platforms do more to combat the trolls.

Manchester United quartet Anthony Martial, Axel Tuanzebe, Marcus Rashford and Fred and Chelsea’s Reece James have also been targeted by racist social media abuse this season.

There have been reports that the Premier League and Football League might consider a collective social media blackout while Swansea City announced a week-long social media boycott last week on all platforms in response to abuse and discrimination.

The blackout includes all players, staff and the club's official accounts and comes after Jamal Lowe, Ben Cabango and Yan Dhanda have suffered racial abused in the past two months.

A Swans statement read: “As a football club, we have seen several of our players subjected to abhorrent abuse in the past seven weeks alone, and we feel it is right to take a stand against behaviour that is a blight on our sport, and society at large.

“We also want to stand with players from other clubs who have had to endure vile discrimination on social media platforms. As a club we are also acutely aware of how social media can impact on the mental health of players and staff, and we hope our strong stance will highlight the wider effects of abuse.”

Championship rivals Birmingham City soon followed Swansea’s lead and said: “The Club stands in solidarity with Swansea City Football Club…with this fight going beyond sporting rivalries and one that must be tackled in unison.

“Regardless of who such abhorrent abuse on social media is directed towards, Blues do not believe this should determine who speaks out against it and that making this stance together is paramount to ridding the game and society of this evil. This goes far beyond pulling together as Blues, but as football and society."

Liverpool captain Jordan Henderson has taken things a step further, giving control of his social media channels over to an anti-cyberbullying charity due to continuing online racist abuse.

Liverpool’s Trent Alexander-Arnold and Naby Keita were subjected to racist abuse on social media following the Reds' 3-1 defeat to Real Madrid in the Champions League.

That prompted Henderson to work with the Cybersmile Foundation, which aims to provide support for victims of cyberbullying and promote a positive use of the internet. 

Taking to Twitter, Henderson said: “Online abuse has got to stop. Recently I’ve been thinking about what I can do, as an individual, to try and make a difference. I've seen friends, team-mates, other players within football and in wider society be on the receiving end of horrendous online abuse which is now out of control.

“The platforms should be doing more but as a society we need to be kinder to each other – that’s where it starts and stops. I have seriously considered deleting my social media accounts in the last few weeks but instead I want to use my platforms to try and drive positive change – people shouldn't have to boycott platforms or deactivate accounts just to avoid abuse.

“So I'm handing all my social media accounts over to @CybersmileHQ who I have partnered with to raise awareness of the impact that cyberbullying and online abuse can have on people. They'll be sharing stories of people affected as well as resources for education, reporting and how to get help if you or someone you know is struggling. Things have got to change. Jordan.

He added: “I partnered with Cybersmile for the People Not Profiles campaign because the problem of online abuse is continuing to destroy lives every day. It has been great working with Cybersmile to address such an important issue and it is my hope that this campaign raises awareness of how seriously online abuse can affect people and also lets people know there is help and support available to them.”

Henderson should be applauded for taking a proactive approach to addressing the issue of online abuse, especially with social media platforms seemingly impotent at policing the trolling that occurs on their channels.

Rather than simply complain or boycott them, Henderson is using his huge profile to highlight the importance of good behaviour online and the devastating impact has on those who are abused.

A Cybersmile statement added: “The campaign will run for a number of weeks and will be featured on The Cybersmile Foundation and Jordan Henderson’s Instagram, Facebook and Twitter - all driving content to raise awareness of the severity of the issue while providing support and education options to millions of people online.”

Dan Raisbeck, co-founder of the Cybersmile Foundation, added: “Everybody at Cybersmile is honoured to be working alongside Jordan on this important campaign, designed to serve as a reminder that behind social media profiles there are real people with real feelings.

“By effectively utilizing Jordan's powerful platform, we will be reaching millions of people with behaviour-changing insights into the effects that cyberbullying and online abuse has on people's lives, as well as offering potentially life-saving access to crucial advice and support services.”

Let’s hope Henderson’s support for the campaign highlights the realities of trolling and prompts some if not all the keyboard warriors to think twice before targeting those that they abuse.

MISS – INDIAN OLYMPIC ASSOCIATION PRESIDENT NARINDER BATRA

Lalit Bhanot has been one of the powerful figures in Indian sports throughout the 21st Century, but he has never been far from controversy.

A former secretary general of the Indian Olympic Association (IOA), Bhanot previously spent 11 months in jail on corruption charges linked to the New Delhi 2010 Commonwealth Games.

In May 2020, further questions were raised over Bhanot’s involvement in the IOA after the International Olympic Committee (IOC) had insisted previously that officials facing charges should not be involved in the administration of the organisation.

Despite Bhanot offering his resignation in October, IOA President Narinder Batra did not accept the resignation, vowing that Bhanot will continue to serve on IOA commissions so long as he continues in his role as President.

“If anybody has a problem thank you very much,” Batra said, according to the New Indian Express. “I don’t care, he is my chairman. As simple as that. For me he is very important.

“If somebody does not like his face, they are welcome to go and bang their head. As long as I am President, he will continue. If I get elected in November, he will remain as chairman.”

Last month, the IOA Ethics Commission ruled that Bhanot will cease to be a member of any committee of the Olympic body with immediate effect as an interim measure pending a final adjudication on charges of impropriety in his appointments. 

The Commission also sought details from Bhanot on his positions in the Athletics Federation of India (AFI).

The IOA website, however, continues to list Bhanot as member of several committees including Chairman of the Tokyo Olympics Preparations Committee.

Given the ruling from the IOA Ethics Commission, Batra’s comments are entirely misplaced and raise further questions about his ability to run the organisation.

Suggesting that anyone unhappy with Bhanot should go and “bang their head” was clumsy language at best and incites unnecessary thoughts of violence and regardless of his views on the decision of the Ethics Commission, the way he communicated his thoughts fell short of what you’d expect from a President of a National Federation.

Rather than simply disregarding Bhanot’s resignation and calling out any critics, Batra should have explained why he felt Bhanot remained the right person for the job.

It will be interesting to see how the situation develops over the coming months, particularly in the build up to the Tokyo 2020 Olympic and Paralympic Games, and whether the decision will be taken out of Batra’s hands.

[womenofcolor15]

Chrissy Teigen & John Legend Lose Baby After Pregnancy Complications + Social Media Criticizes Her For Sharing Intimate Pictures

In absolutely heartbreaking news, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend reveal they lost their baby, Jack, after Chrissy was recently admitted to the hospital for pregnancy complications. She shared pictures of herself, John & Jack on social media and now folks are shaming her over it. More inside…

TRIGGER WARNING! This content may be sensitive to some.

In very devastating news, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend are grieving the loss of their son.

The model mom shared a heartbreaking post on Instagram to announce she and her husband lost their baby. The unfortunate news came after Chrissy was admitted to the hospital due to excessive bleeding.

        View this post on Instagram

                  We are shocked and in the kind of deep pain you only hear about, the kind of pain we’ve never felt before. We were never able to stop the bleeding and give our baby the fluids he needed, despite bags and bags of blood transfusions. It just wasn’t enough. . . We never decide on our babies’ names until the last possible moment after they’re born, just before we leave the hospital. But we, for some reason, had started to call this little guy in my belly Jack. So he will always be Jack to us. Jack worked so hard to be a part of our little family, and he will be, forever. . . To our Jack - I’m so sorry that the first few moments of your life were met with so many complications, that we couldn’t give you the home you needed to survive. We will always love you. . . Thank you to everyone who has been sending us positive energy, thoughts and prayers. We feel all of your love and truly appreciate you. . . We are so grateful for the life we have, for our wonderful babies Luna and Miles, for all the amazing things we’ve been able to experience. But everyday can’t be full of sunshine. On this darkest of days, we will grieve, we will cry our eyes out. But we will hug and love each other harder and get through it.

A post shared by chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) on Sep 30, 2020 at 8:58pm PDT

"We are shocked and in the kind of deep pain you only hear about, the kind of pain we’ve never felt before," she wrote on Instagram. "We were never able to stop the bleeding and give our baby the fluids he needed, despite bags and bags of blood transfusions. It just wasn’t enough."

Chrissy revealed they named their baby boy Jack and how unconventional it was for them to give their a child a name so early.

"We never decide on our babies' names until the last possible moment after they're born, just before we leave the hospital. But we, for some reason, had started to call this little guy in my belly Jack. So he will always be Jack to us. Jack worked so hard to be a part of our little family, and he will be, forever. To our Jack—I'm so sorry that the first few moments of your life were met with so many complications, that we couldn't give you the home you needed to survive. We will always love you."

Baby Jack would have been Chrissy & John's third child together. The couple - who tied the knot in 2013 - announced they were expecting back In August via John's music video for "Wild."

We love you, Jack https://t.co/ySFzJB5e6k

— John Legend (@johnlegend) October 1, 2020

"We love you, Jack," John tweeted.

Driving home from the hospital with no baby. How can this be real.

— chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) October 1, 2020

"Driving home from the hospital with no baby. How can this be real," Chrissy tweeted in disbelief.

In early September, the cookbook author was put on bed rest and later admitted to the hospital. While hospitalized, Chrissy kept her fans updated on her and Jack's condition: 

          View this post on Instagram

                  hello from hospital. about to have my second blood transfusion which truly truly truly sounds more dramatic than it is. It’s an IV, but instead of fluids, the blood of some kind human being out there. Baby and I are completely fine, just missing the little things like walking...cooking...playing with the other buttbutts. came across this little gem from ringing in 2020. It all makes sense now!

A post shared by chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) on Sep 28, 2020 at 6:34pm PDT

  Just had a really scary morning huge clot, almost save-worthy. The scramble to hear the heartbeat seemed like hours. I never thought I’d relief sigh so much in my liiiiife

— chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) September 29, 2020

pic.twitter.com/zjMnyAHiD4

— chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) September 28, 2020

I just shared as much as you need to know about what’s goin on, on insta stories - medical Twitter I beg you to please not diagnose me as there are so many factors that make me different from your patients

— chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) September 28, 2020

pic.twitter.com/aIMdWrY80h

— chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) September 27, 2020

        View this post on Instagram

                  The guys from the incredible @sando.itchi just taught john to make me their famous Japanese egg sandwich - delivered to my bed thank you so much Elie @foodbeast for helping set this up! I slid into the DM’s hard when they posted about them and it all worked out! Can’t wait to show you guys on @cravingsbychrissyteigen

A post shared by chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) on Sep 17, 2020 at 3:26pm PDT

Little Miles and big sister Luna were right by their mother's side as well.

During one of her videos, she mistakenly revealed the sex of the baby by calling the baby "he":

        View this post on Instagram

                  explaining what’s going on with my poopy placenta on my stories if you’re interested. Apologies for all the missed commitments in the next few weeks.

A post shared by chrissy teigen (@chrissyteigen) on Sep 17, 2020 at 3:06pm PDT

People have been showering Chrissy and John with love, but trolls have been shaming the celebrity mom for oversharing.

Jaime Andrews, don't lie on us. We did not publicly shame Chrissy Teigen; she put her pictures out on Social Media for all to see. We didn't judge her; we asked a question. We have a blood relative who has had six miscarriage's and the way she handled her grief was private! https://t.co/L9lM3P1zrJ

— Diamond and Silk (@DiamondandSilk) October 1, 2020

And I will take it a step further. Chrissy Teigen is so distraught over her miscarriage that she took the time to pose for a photo of herself crying, in black and white for dramatic effect, then shared that photo with the world along with her words. Stop it.

— Carmine Sabia (@CarmineSabia) October 1, 2020

Seriously, people are vile and evil. Let this woman grieve how she sees fit. Many argued that they were glad she shared the pictures to show other women and men who have gone through the same thing that they are not alone.

If you see the photo of Chrissy Teigen grieving the loss of her child, and your first thoughts are:

“Why did she photograph herself grieving?”

and not

“Oh no. That’s terrible. She lost her child.”

You have serious psychological problems.

— Mac Lethal (@MacLethal) October 1, 2020

Dear @chrissyteigen and @johnlegend, thank you for sharing your lives -the laughter and the tears, the highs, lows and this devastating heart-break, with the rest of us.

I hope it helps you a little to see the love, prayers and positive energy from your friends and followers. https://t.co/IM2k7ZdHEj

— Ana Navarro-Cárdenas (@ananavarro) October 1, 2020

the tweets under Chrissy Teigen’s update are so vile. The internet clearly isn’t a place for you neanderthals. 1 in 4 women suffer from miscarriage and we barely speak about it, let her share if she wants to. Fuck you pic.twitter.com/PsxFv3oKsm

— mims (@magicloudx) October 1, 2020

A reminder grief doesn’t have to happen behind closed doors. It’s fine and healthy that Chrissy Teigen shared her sorrow openly— if it makes you uncomfortable you should probably re-examine your relationship with grief and difficult emotions.

— ines helene (@inihelene) October 1, 2020

Fuck every single person telling Chrissy Teigen she needs to keep this private, not post pictures and not share any details with the world. Stop stigmatizing pregnancy and infant loss. This needs to be talked about, women need to know they aren’t alone.

— Caprisha (@xxxprisha) October 1, 2020

God. People even criticize how a woman grieves the loss of her baby. I think Chrissy Teigen is brave. I’ve been there, and to have the courage to speak about it is amazing. I feel seen & acknowledged by her sharing her experience. This is why people love her so much. https://t.co/mCXIErYefC

— Elizabeth Goodyear-Grant (@eplusgg) October 1, 2020

We are definitely praying for John & Chrissy during this unfortunate and terribly devestating time.

Photo: Chrissy's IG

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/10/01/chrissy-teigen-john-legend-lose-baby-after-pregnancy-complications-social-media-criticize

[dothedansemacabre]

Why Elisabeth Moss as Offred is A Moral Failure

As you may have learned from the chimes of your Twitter feed or from your naked eyeballs, Elisabeth Moss just won the Emmy for Best Leading Actress in a Drama Series ( The Handmaid’s Tale ). Though Moss is truly an astounding actress that exhibited a profound performance as Offred, she had no business representing such a resounding heroine in the first place.

If you are not familiar with Margaret Atwood’s classic dystopian novel, The Handmaid’s Tale, or Hulu’s rendition of of it, let me run it by you real quick. After a second civil war within the United States, a theonomic military dictatorship known as the Sons of Jacob, become authority over what is now called the Republic of Gilead. In this new totalitarian regime, the Sons of Jacob dictate through archaic Old Testament doctrine. Most notably the removal of women’s rights which affects and is portrayed through our narrator, Offred, a Handmaid. Women no longer have choice or freedom over their lives or bodies. Apparently, at some point in this new world, fertility rates decreased dramatically due to an overwhelming amount of sterile women. The women who are able to give birth, like Offred, were then forcefully gathered into a class known as The Handmaids. The Handmaids under theonomic law are forced to reproduce in the same way as Hagar, Sarah’s Handmaid of the Old Testament, who bore Ishmael for Abraham at the request of Sarah because at the time she could not produce her own child. Offred describes her plight and the fear and brutality of such a constrictive reality she is enslaved within. The story is a horrifying look into rampant repugnant sexism and the ideologies that fertilize it.

Elisabeth Moss as Offred would appear to be anything but offensive in today’s political climate except it is quite the contrary for one daunting fact. Elisabeth Moss is a Scientologist. ( x , x ) One may ask, well, what is the problem with her being a Scientologist? Well, everything. If you have not studied anything about Scientology or seen anything past South Park’s Trapped in The Closet episode or Tom Cruise’s bizarre interviews about it, then let me make it somewhat clearer for you as to why this is such a problem.

Scientology is a belief system that is based off of the teachings of L. Ron Hubbard, a science fiction writer, former occultist, naval officer, and hypnotist. In 1950, his book, Dianetics, became the foundation and overall doctrine of the future church. Hubbard wrote many other books and “policies” for his church that dictate how to proceed in everything from dealing with mental health to handling reporters to washing windows. Scientologists are expected to adhere to every literal word written by Hubbard. They are all required to purchase and read all 1084 books written by him. If members fail to comply with his teachings they cannot rise to the desired levels of “total clarity” and are often shamed for it. I wish I could go into detail about how Hubbard was a malignant narcissist who lied frequently and basked in the glory of admiration, but this would feel as if it were never going to end. Yes, he wrote and indoctrinated the belief of the alien Xenu and the “Galactic Confederacy” and the extraterrestrial planes that casted people near volcanoes while detonating hydrogen bombs causing thetans to attach to every mortal being for eternity… ( x ). Yes, these are strange beliefs, but this dramatic origin story isn’t the problem with Scientology. The problems are within the endless policies and demands he set onto his followers, robbing these people of their pure intentions and faith. Many former Scientologists have left or ���escaped” from the church and have testified to horrific experiences back when they were members and after. Here is a brief list of some of the claims against the church:

Denial and demonization of professional psychological and psychiatric treatment. A branch of the church known as CCHR adamantly promotes the “evils” of psychiatry ( x , x , x , x )

Homosexuality is “sexual perversion” and a physical “illness”, according to the doctrine of Hubbard ( x )

Physical Abuse, especially from the current leader, David Miscavige ( x , x )

Fair Game Policy - which allows any “suppressive person” ( an enemy of the church - including protestors, former members, and journalists ) to be up for any form of harassment or degradation from loyal members. ( x , x , x , x , x , x )

Prison like camps known for “rehabilitation” as The Hole and the RPF. ( x , x , x )

Female clergy ( Sea Org. ) members that become pregnant are forced to have abortions or are exiled ( x , x , x , x , x )

Disconnection Policy - If a member of the church is declared a “suppressive person”, they are cut off and never allowed to speak to friends or family involved in the church ever again ( x , x , x , x )

Taking thousands of dollars from loyal members in order for them to rise to more honorable and powerful thetan levels ( x , x , x )

Child abuse, negligence, and labor ( x , x , x , x )

Chasing after Sea Org. Members that escaped work camps ( x , x )

Other thorough sources: ( x , x , x )

Documentaries: Leah Remini: Scientology and The Aftermath ( A&E ) | My Scientology Movie ( Netflix ) | Going Clear ( HBO )

Books: Counterfeit Dreams by Jeff Hawkins | Ruthless by Ron Miscavige | Going Clear by Lawrence Wright | Inside Scientology by Janet Reitman | Beyond Belief by Jenna Miscavige Hill | Troublemaker by Leah Remini | Fair Game by Steve Cannane | Blown by Lauren Halstead Burroughs | A Piece of Blue Sky by Jon Atack | Bare-Faced Messiah by Russell Miller

In short, Scientology is not simply an unusual religion. It is a vile cult. Moss portraying a woman that is the antithesis of a domineering oppressive society is beyond hypocritical. Moss claims that she has an abundance of respect and heart for women’s rights, but at the same time she firmly holds to and praises a “religion” that has stripped basic rights of both women and men. Like the church and most loyal members, she denies any critical claim against Scientology ( x ).

Yes, the the horror of Gilead should be told. Free peoples everywhere should know this story, but what about the testimonies of so many former and remaining Scientologists living in a similar hell in actual reality? Moss as Offred dims the seriousness of such a necessary tale. If you want to know and support Margaret Atwood’s timeless story, I suggest just buying the book.

Moss’s beliefs make her a fraud. No, she doesn’t actually support gay rights. No, she doesn’t believe that psychiatrists and psychologists actually help people. No, she doesn’t care if you have a story about living in a corrupt cult. She does not deserve any of your respect or admiration. Is she a good person? Possibly. She may be so blinded by her own faith that she refuses to believe anything conflicting with her religion. It is a shame to not question one’s reality often though. Something Offred would attest to. Does the show deserve an Emmy? Yes. Did Moss deserve an Emmy? Obviously. She’s an actress in television and reality.

[maxmundan]

"Fake News"   "The lying press"   "FauxCNN"   "The failing New York Times"   "The Very bad and dishonest Washington Post"   The quotes above are from the President of the Untied States, Donald Trump. He isn't attacking ISIS. Or Al Queda. Or North Korea. Or Iran. He isn't verbally attacking Vladimir Putin or Russia for undermining our most cherished democratic institution, our free and fair elections. No, he is saving all his spite and bile for other Americans and then vomiting it out at them via his Twitter account. Day after day after day after day. Again and again and again.   In his latest tirade he tweeted a meme taken from a professional wrestling match he was involved in (yes, I know, he accuses the mainstream media of being #fakenews with a professional wrestling gif) where his opponent's head has been replaced by a CNN logo. The implication for Trump, I'm sure, is that he's a macho, alpha-male who is getting the better of the press and TV news in rough and tumble hand to hand combat. That's not how many of us see it, however. What we see is an open, authoritarian threat of violence towards one of the traditional checks and counterbalances on executive power. Moreover, it's an attempt to rile up his rabid fan base, who are currently chomping at the bit to pick up their weapons and start a new American Civil War.   Actually, there are two different things going on at the same time, both of which are inextricably linked.   The first is Trump's assault on the press. Just prior to the wrestling meme tweet, he engaged in a vicious Twitter war with Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski of MSNBC's Morning Joe program, both of whom used to be friends of Trump. In reality, almost all of the viciousness was on the part of the president. He referred to his former friends as psycho Joe and crazy, dumb as a rock Mika, before letting loose with a vile insult to her looks that I won't dignify by repeating here. Misogyny, of course, is nothing new to the former reality TV star, who seems to be particularly terrified by the combination of women and blood, but the attempts to delegitimize the media and set himself up for his followers as the sole arbiter of truth and reality is something we haven't seen in this country in a very long time, if at all.   At the same time, new evidence is emerging every day that the Trump administration did, in fact, collude with the Russians to hack the 2016 presidential election and install Trump as president. It's no longer a matter of contention that Russia did interfere in the election. Every major intelligence agency in the U.S. is in agreement on this. As former FBI chief, James Comey, famously said in his televised testimony before the Senate, "Let there be no fuzz on this whatsoever. Russia did interfere in our election. This is a fact." The only people in the country who refuse to accept this verdict are Trump himself and his legion of cult-like followers.   The most recent revelation, which came in a pair of articles in the Wall Street Journal this past week, was that longtime Republican activist, Peter W. Smith, attempted to obtain Hillary Clinton emails from Russian hackers in the days leading up to the 2016 election, while naming Michael Flynn, Steve Bannon and Kellyanne Conway as his contacts in the Trump administration. These new details are leaking out on a weekly, if not daily basis, from longstanding stalwarts of the American press such as the New York Times and the Washington Post, before being mass delivered to the American people via CNN. At the same time, former FBI Director, Robert Mueller, has been named special prosecutor in charge of investigating Russian election interference and he is stocking his team of distinguished attorneys with lawyers very well versed in organized crime and money laundering. Trump himself has not been directly linked at this point but I imagine he must be starting to feel the noose slowly closing around his neck.   The Russian hacking spectacle has become a car crash that the American people cannot look away from. Donald Trump, however, would very much like you to look away. This is why his attacks on the press are happening. If Trump can convince you that CNN and the Washington Post and the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal are doing nothing but telling lies; that they are #fakenews; and that the only source of factual information is the president and his chosen propaganda sources like Breitbart and Fox News, then you might not believe your own eyes and ears when the inevitable piece of incontrovertible evidence of his collusion with Putin and the Russians is broadcast to the country. You know his fanatical, adoring fan club won't believe it.   The problem with this is that he has convinced his cult that the American news media have joined with secret elements in our government (who they refer to as "the deep state") to overthrow the democratically elected president (who won fair and square) for no other reasons than spite and hatred of this country. There are some seriously unbalanced people amongst this group who are now believing that the press are the enemies of America and are ready and willing to take up arms to protect Trump, who is, along with his enablers, the real traitor here. I have several friends who are political reporters and they are now receiving death threats from lived Trumpers on a daily basis, not only for themselves but also their husbands, wives and children. In an attempt to cover up his crimes and the illegitimacy of his presidency, Donald Trump is playing a very reckless game with American lives. What happens with these people, on fire with rage and hatred for the media, when Trump is eventually exposed?   Donald Trump will, almost certainly, be the loser here. I have very little doubt that he will face impeachment and quite possibly prison for what he's done. I worry, however, about what happens next.

Max Mundan, Donald Trump is Demonizing the Press Because He Doesn’t Want You to Know He’s a Traitor

[whimsiesofanerdgirl]

Nerdy News & Discoveries - July 30, 2018

I feel like there is so much going on in the bookish industry so I thought it was time for an update. Read below for all the latest news and let me know what you think!

Book Piracy

Apparently, this is still a thing? This week the topic of book piracy blew up the twitter feed. I'm still in shock there are two sides to create an argument. Some people are arguing that book piracy allows people with no money to be able to read creative works of authors...which seems a moot point because guess what? THERE ARE SUCH A THING AS LIBRARIES. Then the other side of the coin opposes book piracy because authors deserve to be paid the money they deserve...I mean they are the creators after all so why shouldn't they?

Sometimes I wonder if people don't know the amount of work that goes into a novel (let alone a book series). Authors pour over ideas and thoughts somehow with their imagination then turn that into an outline. Then the process goes something like this: first draft, many drafts, revision, editing, publishing, and finally marketing as well as events on top of that to help promote their work. In a way I almost feel like authors are underpaid, but what can you do? Anyways, you can check out the latest tweets and decide for yourself.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants Musical

Most of us know about the infamous traveling pants - a magical piece of clothing that just happens to fit all 4 girlfriends and brings them together despite their travels away from each other. First, it was a book series, then it came out with two movies, and now we can say it has a musical in the works! There aren't any details as of yet for when it will be coming out, but it is definitely a work in progress!

#Totally90sBookChallenge

If you're from the 90's decade (like myself) you have a great love for all of the culture that has greatly shifted since that time period. Labeled as the "Millenials", we are known as "the nostalgic generation" and we're totally okay with this.

As an ode to the 90's, the Bookstagrammer, Bridget Thomas, has invented the #Totally90sBookChallenge. The last bookish challenge filled the hashtag with 90s music inspired novels (seriously regretting I hadn't known about it sooner-yeah, you're not the only one). August's theme will be 90's TV shows and you can find the book challenge prompts over on @BridgetsBookstagram. The book challenge starts on August 1st, so be there or be square in the 00's! It's your choice.

#AFairyTaleathon

Yup, you guessed it! This is a reader's marathon full of fairy tales! *swoons* I was so excited to stumble upon this beauty of a readathon! By the looks of it, these challenges are full of diverse fairy tales which makes me even more enthusiastic to be a part of this community! Flitter over to @aFairytaleathon to check out next month's challenges. #AFairytaleathon starts Monday, August 13th and ends Monday, August 20th!

Hocus Pocus and the All New Sequel

I'm not sure if you've heard anything in the recent news involving Hocus Pocus, but there's been the talk of a sequel going around. Unfortunately, the sequel isn't revolving around the movie franchise, BUT you can go purchase it in book format which became available on July 10, 2018. It's a two-part book including a retelling of the original Hocus Pocus as well as the sequel - written by A.W. Jantha // published by Freeform and sold by Disney Book Group, you can buy it here via eBook, Hardback, and/or MP3 formats.

Read the Blurb for yourself:

Hocus Pocus is beloved by Halloween enthusiasts all over the world. Diving once more into the world of witches, this electrifying two-part young adult novel, released on the twenty-fifth anniversary of the 1993 film, marks a new era of Hocus Pocus. Fans will be spellbound by a fresh retelling of the original film, followed by the all-new sequel that continues the story with the next generation of Salem teens.

Shortly after moving from California to Salem, Massachusetts, Max Dennison finds himself in hot water when he accidentally releases a coven of witches, the Sanderson sisters, from the afterlife. Max, his sister, and his new friends (human and otherwise) must find a way to stop the witches from carrying out their evil plan and remaining on earth to torment Salem for all eternity.

Twenty-five years later, Max and Allison's seventeen-year-old daughter, Poppy, finds herself face-to-face with the Sanderson sisters in all their sinister glory. When Halloween celebrations don't quite go as planned, it's a race against time as Poppy and her friends fight to save her family and all of Salem from the witches' latest vile scheme.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before

I'm not sure if you've heard about this...so let me be the first to tell you (if you haven't yet) - "To All the Boys I've Loved Before" by Jenny Han is being released as a movie! SAY WHAT!?! YUP! They released a teaser trailer back in June, but have just recently posted the full trailer so go watch it over on Buzzfeed! The movie will be available for your viewing pleasure on August 17, 2018 via the Netflix streaming service!

And for those of you that haven't read it (myself included) here's the book info. over on Goodreads in case you wanted to add it to your TBR. You better get reading if you want an accurate book to movie adaptation opinion to put out into the world. But seriously, this movie looks so cute and gives you all the feels! Eeeeeep!

What bookish news are you most excited for? Comment below so we can fangirl together! Gaaaah! 

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