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duchessfics · 5 years ago

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Business and Pleasure Part 5

(https://alainashuffman.tumblr.com/post/66522632737/sarah-paulson-in-piggy-piggy)

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, D/s Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Fingering, Some Language, Praise Kink

Summary: It’s finally the day you and Billie fly to New York City. But you’ve got a full day of work to do beforehand. So inevitably you find yourself once more trying to work out how your relationship interchanges between work and personal. And you get a good time with Billie out of it too.

Word Count: 8805

A/n: Here it is! Part 5! 🙂 I hope ya’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Part 4, Business and Pleasure Masterlist

A self-made breeze brushes against your face as you rush through the Buzzfeed filming studio and dodge between different people and objects with Billie’s usual Starbucks iced coffee and McDonald’s sausage biscuit concealed in a Starbucks bag. While you intended to get here earlier, packing for your trip last night took longer than you thought. As a result, you stayed up far too late and when your alarm went off this morning the thought of a couple more minutes of sleep was too compelling. But when you hit snooze you overestimated how fast you could get ready and ended up practically running out the door. Luckily the studio is smaller than yesterday’s and you find Billie within minutes.

The glamorous blonde is perched at a makeshift makeup and hair station and you can tell she sees you because her face lights up in recognition and she gives you a smile before purring, “Good morning, sunshine.”

The warmth of her greeting compels your cheeks to warm up also and you return a small smile, shyly replying, “Good morning. Sorry for getting here so late, but I got your usual.”

Her smile widens as you give her the items and after she looks in the bag to confirm it really is the sausage biscuit, her mouth waters at the sight and she looks to you once again while moaning, “Oh sweetheart, I could kiss you right now. This looks so amazing.”

Your eyes widen and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise in awareness as your whole body warms at her choice of words. But you attempt to brush past the comment like anyone else would and lightly clear your throat to conceal the silence before you stutter, “I-I’m glad you like it. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Immediately you close your eyes regretting how you phrased that as ‘anything.’ And sure enough you open them up to see her shit-eating grin as she teases, “Do you really mean anything? Because I can always think of something I need.”

Do not spur her on. Think of a neutral reply. Anything.

Trying to maintain eye contact feels like trying to climb a mountain and any resilience left is used to keep your voice neutral when you slowly reply, “Anything in terms of filming. My employment services only go so far.” Billie’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise at your words, but she keeps that smug look on her face when she murmurs, “Of course I was speaking about filming…but it almost sounded like you have a little crush on me, y/n.”

If there is a time for the ground to open up and swallow you whole it’s now.

Your eyes widen at her forwardness and your whole body burns to the point of breaking into a nervous sweat while you shake your head and stutter, “N-no, Miss Howard. I didn’t—I-I never meant to—”

But she shushes your squeaky, incoherent plea and chuckles as she soothes, “I’m only kidding, darling.” I just wanted to see how you would react.” Fiery adrenaline that somehow simultaneously feels like icy shards shoots through your veins and you must look shocked because even the artist doing Billie’s makeup giggles and tells her, “I think you got her pretty good.”

If you two were alone, you would totally scold her for taunting you like that. But right now, she’s your boss. So you meekly nod and reply, “Oh. Well—um, do you need anything else before filming?” The medium gives you a knowing smile and wink before answering, “Not at the moment. But I appreciate the offer.” So you take her trash from breakfast and throw it out while she finishes with hair and makeup.

For today her manager lined up a gig with Buzzfeed LA where they will film Billie answering questions from twitter about being a medium. And in the process she’ll also promote her own show. After getting Billie placed, the crew makes last minute adjustments, and someone brings over a glass bowl with slips of paper that have questions on them. They set it on a wooden stool that is tall enough for her to draw from while standing, but it doesn’t get in the way of their filming shot. Today the blonde is dressed a little more on the casual side but still looks elegant, wearing glossy black heels, high waisted, freshly pressed black palazzo pants, and a silk, dusty rose button up blouse that is stylishly tucked into her trousers to flatter her hourglass figure. And, to your delight, she also has her notorious string of pearls on with earring studs to match.

Today you’re closer to Billie when she films so she can actually see you. But you stay back to keep out of the crew’s way, and she can stay focused. Once they call out action, the blonde looks to the camera and puts on her perfect smile before speaking in her smooth as honey voice,

“I’m Billie Dean Howard, medium to the stars, and today I will be answering some questions from twitter about what it actually means to be a medium.”

Then they cut and the director looks over the footage. And in that one minute, Billie is able to look away from the camera and flash a small smile just for you. The special attention from her is undeniably flattering and before you are conscious of it, you give her a small smile back before she’s called to attention once more.

At 12:30 pm they decide to break for lunch. When Billie begins to walk in your direction some of the Buzzfeed staff call out and ask her to join them for lunch. At first, she glances at you as if silently asking for permission. The questioning look confuses you since she is your boss, but you give her a reassuring smile and say, “I’ll get you a plate.”

The medium smiles back and murmurs quiet enough for only you to hear, “You’re such a dear to me, sweetheart.” Her soft praise makes your cheeks heat up and you give a small nod of acknowledgement before stepping away from her over to the lunch spread.

After gathering a small selection and making sure there is enough protein and nutrients to sustain your employer for the afternoon, you walk over and set down the plate, silverware, and cup full of water on the table. Everyone else keeps partaking in their lunchtime conversations however Billie pauses to look up at you from her seat and murmurs, “Thank you, y/n.” And once again, she shows you her genuine expression beneath the usually smooth exterior.

The thought that she is willing to even give you a glimpse of that side of her makes your insides flutter and you grin at seeing that special part of her again while replying, “You’re welcome.” But the intimate moment is broken by someone saying Billie’s name to speak with her.

So you back up from the group and grab a small lunch for yourself, sitting off in a side area as you work on your phone, emailing and calling different people to confirm Billie’s schedule in New York City in between bites.

Because they all started eating before you did, you still eat when they resume filming and listen to Billie continue to show her wit and sassiness with each answer. And by the time Buzzfeed wraps for the day, you’ve called Jared to make dinner and made sure housekeeping has her luggage all set up to head out the door.

As you end the phone call, Billie sneaks up behind you and murmurs in your ear, “Let me ride home with you.” You gasp, whipping around to face her. And at the same time, you check to see if anyone else is close enough to hear, but there’s no one around.

So you meet the medium’s gaze and whisper, “I-I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t.” She chuckles and leans in before whispering with a wink, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

There is no way you can think rationally while keeping eye contact with her.

Your eyes look down to your well-worn, scuffed up work shoes and your teeth worry your lower lip in thought, drawing Billie’s attention.

“Come on,” Billie playfully pouts, prompting you to lift your eyes enough to take in her glossy lips when she continues, “Live on the edge a little, sweetheart. I’ll make it worth your time.” Her low, husky voice that somehow remains honey-like melts your last shred of resolve and you hesitantly relent, “Ok…you can ride with me.” The medium smiles and when you meet her eyes again, her pupils are dilated in lust.

Without thinking she leans in closer to you almost like she’s going to kiss you. But you can’t go that far in public. Before you can even say anything, a look of recognition crosses her face and she backs away, venturing to look around and fading back into her casual demeanor prior to asking, “Shall we?”

By now your breath is caught in your throat and your eyes are misty in a mixture of shock, arousal, and shame at your conduct. But you avert your gaze and clear your throat to conceal the turbulent thoughts whirling around in your head and rasp, “Yep.” before leading Billie to your car.

The car ride to Billie’s house is relatively quiet, save for the couple words exchanged between the 2 of you and the radio softly playing in the background. But the silence is nice after being in a bustling studio without any real quiet moments in addition to what transpired before you left. As usual you drive with one hand on the wheel while leaning the other arm on the central console and because you’re focused on the road, you miss Billie taking small glances at you, noticing how your fingers tap to the beat of the music.

Today she is the one who desires to hold your hand that seems so close to her own. But unlike you in the car ride home yesterday, she initiates action and smoothly takes your hand, intertwining her warm fingers with yours. While your eyes remain on the road, your body automatically opens to her touch. However, you’re still a little shaken up by the whole—almost kiss in public—situation, so you stay quiet.

Billie notices your silence but assumes it’s from the long day of work. To break the stillness she gives your hand a light squeeze while commenting, “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart. Are you cold?” You smile at her observation, but keep your eyes on the road and reply, “My hands are pretty much always cold. But I’m alright.”

Your employer lets out a hum of understanding, however she silently brings her other hand up to sandwich your cool one between her two warm ones. The heat of her touch does help to melt away some of the insecurity from earlier.

After a couple more minutes of not speaking, Billie softly admits, “I missed sharing lunch with you today, y/n.” Immediately flames of doubt burn at the knots of anxiety in your stomach and you can’t help but ask, “Really?” You even give her a quick side glance to see she looks down at her hands that cradle your one hand.

However you look back to the road and don’t see her face when she lifts her head to look at your profile and honestly answers, “Y/n, I always enjoy spending time together.”

You know you should walk away from this whole thing and make it clear you aren’t just some person to use. But there’s that genuine, heartfelt voice again and you find yourself quietly admitting, “I-I enjoy it too.” Both of you go quiet again, but it’s a more comfortable silence and as she delicately caresses your hand your uncertainty ebbs away once more.

After you pull into her driveway and park your car, you finally look to Billie and she says with a smile, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Your core warms at her words and you softly reply, “You’re welcome.”

Now you squeeze her hand like she did with you earlier. The action prompts the blonde to look at you with an even bigger smile and you smile back at her, glad to be alone. However, you both know you’re short on time. So she brings your now warm hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles before releasing it.

You reluctantly take your hand back and tell her, “Jared should have dinner ready, but I’ll have him keep it warm while you change into something more comfortable.” Billie nods in understanding before murmuring, “You’re the absolute best, y/n.” Her compliment prevents reality from completely crushing the moment and you find your cheeks feel tight from smiling so wide, but you avert your eyes and try to reply in a demure tone, “Thank you.”

Then the medium surprises you when she brings a hand up to cup your cheek. The intimate touch prompts your eyes to flick up and when you meet hers, her thumb brushes against your cheekbone. “You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.” Billie purrs with a smirk.

You both step out of your car and walk into her grand home. Then she ascends the elaborate staircase to go to her bedroom. You can’t help but watch her hips sway as she goes. She must realize you continue to watch her walk up to the second floor because before she disappears from your sight, she looks back to flash one more smile. After she’s gone you shake your head to clear your thoughts and go to make sure all of her luggage is loaded into the car she’s taking to the airport before placing your own luggage in and going to her chef to tell him she’s ready to eat.

After you’ve spoken with Jared you sit at the breakfast nook and a short time later, Billie meanders in, warmly greeting him. The medium now wears charcoal gray tapered sweatpants, an oversized, mauve-colored sweatshirt, and her black ugg moccasin slippers that always look so cozy and warm. But you can’t justify paying so much for shoes when your paycheck mainly goes to paying for rent. You don’t see her in lounge clothes often, but even in these clothes without any makeup on, Billie manages to maintain a distinct elegance that is both attractive and admirable.

Jared says hello back and dishes up her dinner while explaining what the meal consists of. The blonde carefully listens; however she can’t help but smirk when she notices you looking her over out of the corner of her eye. Once he has the meal on two plates and finishes his description, Billie thanks him before taking both plates and bringing them over to the breakfast nook where you sit to eat the meal. Then her chef begins to wash dishes like last night while you both eat.

Because he no longer looks on, Billie leans closer to you and purrs in your ear, “I noticed you checking me out. Do you like what you see, sweetheart?”

Of course she spotted you checking her out.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you can’t help but duck your head a little as you squeak, “Yes.” Her low chuckle fills your ears and you feel her hand sneak around your waist low enough that it can’t be seen by the cook if he turns around and looks back at you both. Rather than pulling you close to her like last night, she merely uses the contact to maintain her intimate presence while murmuring, “Oh I am going to thoroughly enjoy our little trip to New York City.”

‘Our trip?!’ This isn’t your trip. Yes, you’re going…but it’s to serve Billie.

Her choice of words draws you to your senses and you turn to face her, inches from her lips when you whisper, “You’re gonna have interviews and pr for your tv show—”

But she cuts you off by assuring you, “Oh I’ll find time for you, honey.” Her eyes focus on your lips when she speaks, and you find yourself partly terrified and partly desperate for her to kiss you. However, the loud clanging of dishes in the sink snaps you out of your daze. Immediately you stiffen up and whip your head down to look at your plate.

The blonde is more subtle but makes a similar action. Even though she no longer looks at you, her arm remains around your waist as you both eat on the bench you christened just last night. After finishing your meal, you check to make sure Billie has everything she needs before heading out to the car and riding to the airport.

When you get to Los Angeles International Airport, the driver helps both of you unload your things and you and Billie walk in. Once you check in your suitcases so all you have to carry is your purses, walking around is much easier. Inevitably some paparazzi see Billie and come up to take pictures or ask questions. However a security person keeps them back by escorting you to the VIP lounge and the medium just puts on her sunglasses to dim the flash of the cameras.

The only reason you are even allowed to look into the inside of this lounge is because of Billie. You are all too familiar with the crowded, less than comfortable airport environment with harsh fluorescent lights and suspicious smells. But this exclusive waiting lounge it’s a completely different experience. There’s no one else around at the moment, every single seat is a leather recliner like the ones in fancy movie theaters with corresponding cup holders and charging outlets. Even the lighting is dimmed and orange based rather than blue so it’s less jarring. And all of the food and drinks are complimentary so you can basically order whatever you would like and someone will bring it to you. Basically this lounge takes the stress out of traveling and if you had the money to pay for a membership like Billie does, you would too.

Billie struts in first and a server immediately scurries up while inquiring, “Good evening, Miss Howard. Do you need anything at the moment? Can I interest you in something to eat or drink?” Your employer lets the straps of her purse slide down from the top of her shoulder to the bend of her elbow and removes her sunglasses as she replies, “I’ll take…a coke with lime slices, extra ice, and whatever she wants.”

The addition to her order makes your eyes widen and even the server’s brows furrow at you being acknowledged to order. Meanwhile Billie looks down to her purse while rummaging around for something. So you look to the server and clear your throat, but still sound hoarse when you stutter out, “Um…I-I’ll just take a water please.” The staff member gives you a cursory smile before replying, “I’ll be right back with those.” And they speed off.

Your gaze turns in Billie’s direction when she exclaims, “There it is!” Then she pulls out her lip balm and you watch her apply the deluxe chapstick to her lips. And as she does, she playfully wiggles her eyebrows and teases, “Gotta make sure my lips are still kissable.” Automatically, you scan the room for witnesses, but it is empty. And the medium just chuckles and muses, “Always so shy, y/n.” You look back to see her smirking as her eyes slowly trail over you.

“Here are your drinks. If you need anything else, please tell me.” The unexpected voice of the server behind you causes you to jump out of your skin making Billie grin as she takes both glasses and looks to the staff member before smoothly replying, “We will. Thank you, honey.”

At the moment your stress levels are off the charts. If your heart was beating any faster, it would fly right out of your chest. When the staff member walks away, you let out the shuddering breath you inhaled and the medium says with a smirk, “Shall we?” You’re still too flustered to speak so you simply nod and follow her to some of the more secluded leather seats.

Billie lets you sit first and once you’re seated, she holds out your water while murmuring, “Here you go, sweetheart.” You take the cup with a meek thank you and make yourself drink a generous sip as your heart rate slows and Billie’s eyes feel like embers on your face while she closely observes every move you make.

After the liberal sip, you set your cup down in the holder and look to your employer. She gives you a devious smile and asks with a raised eyebrow, “Comfortable?”

How could you not be? You don’t need to rush off anywhere and you have a gorgeous woman by your side who seems to enjoy your company as much as you do hers.

Her eyes continue to rove over you to the point that it feels like you lay bare before her and you find her cheeks warming as you reply, “Y-yes. Are you?” You see her beautiful smile expand. “Almost,” Billie begins before reaching out to take your hand and intertwine her fingers with yours. Her petite hand gently squeezes yours with her deep inhale and when she exhales, her grip relaxes and she lets her head rest back against the head cushion and sighs, “Perfect.”

The medium’s hand feels so soft and supple from the luxury hand cream she uses religiously and find yourself once again looking down at her neatly trimmed, light pink nails.

There’s no way you’re just a one-night stand deal. Not with how she is acting towards you. Of course you’ve never had sex with an A-list celebrity, but you know the start of a relationship when you see one. This isn’t your first rodeo. Should you pull your hand away from your boss’s? Probably. But are you really going to withdraw from her warm and gentle embrace? Not at the moment.

So you try to mimic Billie’s relaxed position and lean back against the plush seat.

Rather than trying to do anything else, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to just relish in the blonde’s touch. Billie looks over to see your eyes flutter shut similar to when you’re about to orgasm from her touch. The way you so easily relax into her hold warms Billie’s insides in both lust and endearment. But she also understands you have a life beyond serving hers and doesn’t want you to feel held back. So she gratefully takes any affection you offer, but manages her expectations. You’re young. Someday you’ll find someone to settle down with and they’ll be lucky to have you.

Even though your eyes are closed, you sense Billie watching you as her thumb strokes small circles over your knuckles. You give her hand a small squeeze and open one of your eyes to peek at the blonde. The cat-like action makes her chuckle and murmur, “I don’t know how you can look so cute all of the time.” That compliment makes you open both of your eyes and look behind yourself as if checking to see if someone is behind you before looking back to her and coyly replying, “Who? You mean me?” Her eyes narrow at the self-deprecation and she playfully admonishes, “‘Do I mean you?’ Of course I mean you, darling. You’re always cute as a button. And I will continue to remind you of that until you believe it yourself.”

Billie thinks you’re cute as a button.

Her promise of repetition captures your attention and you bite your lip before softly replying, “You always look beautiful too, Billie.” So beautiful. But the moment is interrupted by a couple people walking into the lounge. Shit.

You move to jerk your hand away to your own lap, but Billie gently shushes you and soothes as they order food and drinks, “They won’t notice, sweetheart.” But your anxiety keeps you stiff and worrying your lower lip between your teeth while you watch the strangers. So she leans in closer and murmurs, “Hey.” Her unusually soft voice gets your attention and you look to her warm, chocolate brown eyes.

The concern etched on her features takes you back to the time you were sure she was going to fire you after having sex on her kitchen counter. God that feels like a lifetime ago. You can tell she must sense you’re nervous, however, like before her demeanor remains calm when she soothes, “It’ll be alright, darling. And if they do say something, I’ll take care of it. Ok?” While your instincts tell you to pull back, her genuine expression of concern wins out and you force yourself to relax a little as you nod and respond, “Ok.”

In the end, the people who entered sit in chairs on the other side of the lounge and can’t even see your hands. So there’s nothing to worry about—as usual. Once they’re settled and talking amongst themselves, the medium gives you a wink with a reassuring smile and you let out the breath that was caught in your throat because of the strangers, but also your own issues.

You know that you have problems with trusting others and it’s led to a couple of your past romantic partners walking away in frustration and bewilderment. But Billie doesn’t seem to get upset and that’s a huge relief in itself. So you slowly lean back against the chair as you were. In response Billie gives your hand a small, reassuring squeeze while murmuring, “Good girl, y/n.” And of course, her words of affirmation make you feel much, much better.

Now that you’re both resettled, you fish the book you brought to read while traveling and ask the blonde, “Would it bother you if I read a little bit?” The timid question in your meek, little voice prompts her to chuckle and reply in an amused tone, “It wouldn’t bother me at all, sweetheart.” You give her a smile and thank her in return, but before you can open the book, your phone lights up. So you pick it up and gasp when you see who messaged you. Their message is unexpected since you haven’t talked in months, but always welcome.

In her curiosity at your noise, Billie can’t help but sneak a glance over. However she just as quickly chastises herself for being nosy and picks up her own phone to occupy her wandering eyes. You both don’t speak to each other for the next hour, but the medium doesn’t miss your small laughs or smiles at whatever this mysterious person is sending. And to her own surprise, Billie feels the smallest twinge of jealousy and possessiveness over you and your shared relationship. However you’re not exclusively with her so what can she expect?

Before boarding the plane, you put your book away while asking, “Do you mind keeping an eye on my things while I run to the restroom?” Billie shows off her trademark smile and replies, “It’s no problem, honey.” So you set your purse on your seat with your phone on top so it doesn’t get lost while saying, “Thank you, Billie. I’ll be back in a minute.” Then you make the short trek to the lounge restroom which, like everything else in this exclusive section, is considerably better than the public restrooms everyone else uses.

While you’re in there, Billie hears your phone vibrate and before she can stop herself, the medium sees it’s a message from someone whose contact name is Taylor. And the message itself says, I wish I could go there with you, but we can keep in touch over messaging. I’ll miss you. 💜 The words provoke her flame of jealousy and possession once more.

Did you lie to her about being with someone? You probably didn’t mention this person because you thought your job would be in jeopardy. Maybe she’s just been projecting her own feelings on this fling the whole time.

“Ready?” Your voice calls out, bringing Billie back to reality. Her fingers flick nervously in her desire to bite her nails, but she puts on a confident smile and smoothly replies, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You grin at her response, but don’t miss the nervous tick of her fingers. Something seems…off. However you don’t have time to ask about it. So you pick up your purse and phone and both of you are escorted by security to get on your plane to New York City.

Of course Billie has a first class seat so you do as well and once again are amazed by the discrepancy between these spacious, luxurious seats compared to economy seating. There is an ample amount of space for you both, but you still elect to be close. And the moment you even mention feeling chilly, an attendant is there with a fresh cozy, microfiber blanket just for you that’s warmed from being stored in a heated cabinet. Billie watches you snuggle under the blanket and secretly slip your shoes off, so you only wear socks and you scoot a little closer to her, longing to get some of her radiating warmth. The subtle movement makes her smirk and purr, “Do you need some attention, sweetheart?”

You could always use some attention from Billie. And judging from that damn smirk on her face she knows it too.

Your eyes lower as you softly admit, “Maybe a little bit.” Then you venture to look up and see her smiling and opening herself up to you even more as she purrs in that intoxicatingly low voice, “Well, you have my full attention, darling.” Your heart flutters at her sweet as honey demeanor, but you can’t help but question, “Are you sure? I was just being dumb—”

However your boss presses one of her fingers to your lips, effectively silencing you, and assures, “Y/n, I don’t mind giving you my full attention. Don’t you give me your full attention most of the time?” Billie pulls her finger back enough for you to answer, “Well…yeah. But—”

“Ah,” Billie says, placing her finger on your lips again before continuing, “No buts. I can assure you that it is my pleasure to give you attention. Ok?” You hesitate for a moment, but nod and softly answer, “O-ok.” The answer seems to be sufficient for the blonde, so she withdraws her finger. Then she pulls back the arm divider so nothing is between you both and you scoot as close to her as you can with your seatbelt on to lean against her side, letting out a sigh as her familiar scent of jasmine and smoke envelops you. To any onlookers you only seem a little closer than usual, but nothing overly affectionate.

About that time, one of the flight attendants comes up and says, “Good evening, Miss Howard and Miss L/n. Can I get either of you anything to eat or drink?” Immediately you go to move away, but by now Billie has her arm wrapped around your waist under the blanket and keeps you close as she casually replies, “I’ll take a red wine and…” Then she trails off and both sets of eyes looks to you. So you squeak the first thing that comes to mind: “Ginger Ale—please.” The attendant gives you both a smile, missing your internal panic, and chirps, “Of course! I’ll be right back with those.” And walks away.

When you’re alone again, you look to Billie and ask, “Do you think she noticed?” The question prompts her to giggle and softly soothe, “No I don’t think she did.” Then she leans close to your ear and presses a small kiss before murmuring, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart. I promise I’ll keep you safe.” Her warm words do help and you can’t help but get upset at yourself for always worrying.

You really are constantly a buzzkill and can never seem to relax. Before long Billie will get tired of you being a worry wart and leave—

The medium saying your name draws you out of your vortex of anxiety-driven thoughts and you look over to see Billie watching you closely with furrowed brows. Her look of concern makes your cheeks warm in shame and you can’t keep eye contact as you mutter, “I’m sorry. It’s not you—it’s me.” Billie notices your faltering gaze and to her it makes no sense why you are always so hard on yourself. So she tries to encourage you by saying, “Y/n, this isn’t anyone’s fault. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You venture to meet her eyes after her reassurance and it feels like her darkened, intuitive orbs can see straight to your soul as she observes, “You’re pretty hard on yourself aren’t you?”

Finally, someone sees how hard you try to fight off these feelings of anxiety. It’s not that’s you’re unaware.

Your eyes automatically get misty at her recognition of your struggle and you bite your lip, attempting to keep your emotions in check as your nod.

Of course it’s at that moment the flight attendant returns and gives you your requested beverages. Both of you politely thank her, but even she seems to pick up on the current mood and merely says, “We’re just about to take off, but if you need anything once we’re up in the air please don’t hesitate to ask.” Billie gives her trademark smile and replies for you both, “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

When the attendant is gone, rather than trying to push the conversation further, the medium loosens her hold on you to take the remote synched with your personal tv. Then she hands it over to you and murmurs, “How about you pick out something for us to watch?” You’re thankful for not having divulge all of your emotions in this moment and carefully take the remote to flip through the choices until you find one of your favorite movies.

When you press select, Billie lets out a soft hum and muses, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.” Those words make you gasp and you look at her while squeaking, “You haven’t—how have you not seen this? Now we have to watch this so you can see what you’ve been missing.” Your employer chuckles at your shock and horror, but leans closer to you while purring, “Enlighten me, sweetheart. I’m ready.” By then the cabin’s lights are off besides the strips to illuminate the walkway and a couple random personal headlamps on to read or write. But you’re basically shrouded in darkness with only the glow of the tv providing any direct source of light. And after watching the short video on safety, the movie begins.

Once you’re fully up in the air, Billie slides the partial door closed so you have a little more privacy and the moment the seatbelt light turns off, you both unbuckle your respective ones and you curl further into her side. In response the medium wraps both of her arms around your middle to keep you close, only shifting once and awhile to sip her wine. By now you have your legs tucked up underneath you and let yourself melt into her warm and welcoming side. The luscious notes of sweet vanilla with undertones of heat and ash bring you a sense of contentment only she can provide. You haven’t felt this blissed-out since this past Sunday night after she ‘allowed’ you to be the dominant one and held you close afterwards.

After the blonde takes her last sip of wine, instead of going to her previous position, she removes her arms from you, leaving you feeling exposed, and slips her hands out from under the blanket. The movement gets your attention and she holds her hands out in front of you both as she kisses the sensitive skin behind your ear and purrs, “You were right, darling. This pink does look lovely.” The sensation of her hot breath on your neck makes you shiver and slowly twist around to face her.

Once again, your lips nearly meet each other and you close the gap, leaning down to press a small, shy kiss on her lips. When you back up, she smiles and her dark eyes stay on yours as she returns a small kiss before lowly murmuring against your lips, “Oh come on, y/n. I know you can give me more than that.”

You smile and lean in to recapture her lips. While she does love the feeling of your lips on hers, the medium can’t help but notice you slightly tensing up after kissing longer than a couple moments. And she doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Well…too uncomfortable. Fortunately, a splendid idea comes up in her head that should make you less tense. But she needs to draw out your own desire before making her move.

When Billie pulls back from your lips, your brows furrow.

You know she likes longer kisses than that. And her all too familiar, shit-eating grin is enough to know she’s up to something. With Billie—who knows what’s she has got up her sleeve.

However she makes no move except to sit back in her seat where she was and innocently say, “I apologize for interrupting your movie, darling.” Your eyes narrow as you look her over, but there’s no sign of mischief besides her little smirk. What does she have planned? You skeptically settle back in beside her and she wraps an arm around your waist to keep you close like before.

You continue to watch the movie and Billie doesn’t speak, however her teasing touch underneath the fluffy blanket definitely distracts you. In the beginning her thumb slowly strokes your side however as time goes on you feel her get bolder in her caresses and she ghosts her thumb over the outside of your breast. In fact a couple times she shifts a little closer and you’re sure she’ll brush over your nipple that’s already peaked in arousal. But then she barely skims past it. When you react by squirming and letting out the softest whimper of desire, the medium has the audacity to chuckle against your neck and rile you up even more

By the end credits, Billie has effectively aroused you to the point that you’ve gotten even closer to her and nearly gasp in need. Meanwhile your employer just laughs at your desperation and lowly inquires in your ear, “Have you heard of the mile-high club, sweetheart?” Oh, you know exactly what her plan is now. This is a legitimate thing? You’re about to find out. You look to her face with wide eyes of both fear and anticipation and whisper, “Y-yes.” Of course, that just eggs Billie on and she purrs with a smirk, “As a member myself it is my pleasure to induct you into this exclusive group.”

Your lust-filled eyes focus on Billie’s darkened one’s and she has a wicked grin as she taunts with raised brows, “You mean you’re not going to tell me this is wrong or that it’s too risky?”

At this point Billie has worn your resistance down to the point that if she slammed you back against the wall and fucked you, you wouldn’t say no—consequences be damned.

However the comment does bring you back to a sliver of reality and you hesitantly reply, “Y-you won’t get us in trouble…right?”

Your soft, timid question fuels Billie’s fire and she watches you with hooded eyes as she answers in an overly innocent voice, “That’s entirely up to you, sweetheart. The louder you get, the more likely it is that someone will come over here to check on you.” Automatically, you listen to see how loud the plane is, and the only constant noise is the low hum of the engine with variable sounds from the TV and a few conversations around you. But there really isn’t that much to conceal your noises.

But surely Billie wouldn’t try this if she didn’t think it was possible—right? You can do this. And even if you can’t—your desire is strong enough to cloud your judgement.

So you give her a firm nod and say, “Ok.”

By now another movie is starting so she leans in and purrs, “How about we watch another movie, hmm?” Whatever the movie is, it’ll provide more sound coverage and you’ll take all you can get. Rather than voicing your agreement, you go back to sitting like you were and relax into the medium’s soft and warm embrace. Meanwhile, she leans in close to your ear and kisses the sensitive flesh right behind it. And as she does you feel one of her hands under the blanket move from around your waist to the front of you. Then she cups your clothed mound in a possessive manner with her hand, making you gasp and watch her hand move under the blanket. However, your attention returns to her words as she purrs, “Keep watching the movie, darling. We don’t want you to look suspicious, do we?”

Her low, commanding voice leaves your mouth feeling dry and you know that even just all of this toying around has your core dripping in arousal. But you pull yourself together enough to rasp, “No.” And there’s that low, seductive chuckle which has an angelic ring to it again. You listen to her instructions and slowly look back to the tv, but your whole body remains focused on the distinct feeling of Billie’s fingers undoing your pants while her lips lazily tease your earlobe. And when she slips her hand into your pants and under the waistband of your panties, your legs slightly spread of their own accord.

Then you feel her slender digits slide down to dip into your core. The soft touch makes you whimper, “Billie—”

But she softly shushes you before purring in your ear, “Oh, honey, you like all of this a lot more than you let on.” That’s when you feel how truly soaked your pussy is. There’s no way you can just ‘watch the movie.’ So, rather than looking to your lap where Billie’s fingers lazily spread your arousal, you turn to look at Billie’s face. She backs up a little to make eye contact and softly jests, “I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Then her fingers find your already sensitive clit and you bite your lip to stifle your whimper.

If there is anything you don’t want to happen, it’s getting caught.

So when she starts to rub vicious circles on your pearl, your thighs clench up and you take short breaths to prevent yourself from moaning. And without intentionally planning it, your one hand reaches out under the blanket and clenches the top of Billie’s thigh to keep rooted.

Fortunately Billie’s fingers leave your clit and allow you to take a deep breath. But she’s not done with you yet. “Is that what you want, hm? You want the flight attendant to come over here and see how desperate you are to be fucked, sweetheart?” The medium whispers and eases a finger into your tight hole. You instinctively clench up at the intrusion, but she’s there for you, brushing the pad of her thumb against your neglected clit.

“Y/n…I asked you a question and expect an answer.” She murmurs in a soft, sing-song voice as her finger begins to slowly pump in and out of you. Your lip feels sore from biting on it so hard to keep quiet. But you release your lip from your teeth and whimper, “No.”

Billie leans a little closer and places a kiss on your nose while inserting another finger into you. “No?” She mockingly whispers as her digits fill you oh so perfectly. Your back arches as much as you can in the limited space and you lowly moan, “No.” The blonde chuckles at your state of being and you whimper her name, pleading for her to start going again without spelling it out. But she shushes you with a brief kiss and her free hand comes up to cup your cheek before she soothes, “I’ve got you, darling. I’ll take care of you.”

You look into Billie’s warm, chocolate colored eyes and the moment her fingers within you begin to speed up again, you gnaw on your tender lower lip to keep your sounds contained. However you capture the medium’s thigh in a steel grip and your teeth can’t completely silence your high-pitched noise of pleasure when she strokes that sensitive spot within your depths. The TV conceals some of your groan, but your noise is distinct enough to hear over it and you see the silhouette of the flight attendant right outside of your frosted glass door.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your whole body stiffens up as she passes by. Meanwhile Billie continues to fuck you with her fingers and makes a soft shushing sound right beside your ear. Fortunately the attendant doesn’t stop walking and you bury your face in the bend of your employer’s neck to muffle your moans as she continues to stroke that sensitive spot.

Billie grins at your state and tuts her tongue before reprimanding, “Don’t think you can get loud now. You just about got caught already.” But her words don’t register with you and you keep one hand on her thigh and bring the other up to cling at her shirt while whimpering, “I’m about to cum.” no longer caring to ask permission. The blonde notices and purrs, “Oh really?” You merely nod in response and feel your whole body warm as those intense pre-orgasm twitches flow through your body.

However her hand slows and Billie asks, “Aren’t you forgetting something, darling?” You nearly sob at the torture of being edged in this circumstance. But you settle for whispering in a voice thick with emotion, “Please let me cum. Please, I need it, Billie. Please.” By now you are just about in her lap and cling to her for dear life. The medium begins to speed up her movements once more and she whispers in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me, sweetheart.”

You don’t know if it’s the public setting, the teasing beforehand, or the way Billie strokes your sweet spot, but you end up experiencing one of the strongest orgasms you have ever had. Thank god you are biting down on her shoulder to stay quiet and she holds you close with her available arm so that any sounds that escape are muffled.

Thankfully she doesn’t push you to another orgasm and lets you settle back down from your high as she takes her hand away from you to lick off all of your essence on her fingers. Once your breathing regulates, you realize that you still keep a vice grip on the blonde’s leg and sweatshirt. So you release your hold and briefly smooth her clothing out while clearing your throat. Then you resettle back into your own seat and let your head fall back against the head rest as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

Holy shit you can’t believe that just happened.

That’s when Billie’s giggle fills your ears and she teases, “Congratulations. You, my dear, are now an official member of the mile-high club.” On one hand this all almost feels like a cosmic joke that the universe is playing on you after wanting Billie so long. But on the other if this isn’t reality and is some vivid dream you are not complaining at all. You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh at the absurdity of it all before replying, “How exciting.”

At this point you finally open your eyes to look at the blonde. Her mauve sweater still looks a little scrunched up from your hold. But besides that she radiates an aura of effortless perfection. You don’t know how she does it, but any time day or night you swear Billie has her hair perfectly set and her face even without any makeup looks glowing with a perfect sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks. You can only dream to look that good.

As you stare, the medium’s luscious lips form into a smirk and she leans towards you. Her hand comes up to give your cheek a small pinch as she teases, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” It’s only then that you realize how long you’ve been gawking at her.

Pull yourself together.

You automatically look down and shake your head as you mutter, “Sorry.” However, Billie takes your chin between her thumb and pointer finger and guides you to look at her face. That’s when you see the blonde’s reassuring smile. “Hey, who said I didn’t want that? Sweetheart I am made for the cameras.” She soothes with a wink. You let out your higher-pitched, schoolgirl-esque giggle at her confidence and for the first time you aren’t embarrassed or ashamed by the noise.

For a moment you share eye contact and watch Billie’s eyes shift from her charismatic, fiery warmth to a softer brown that reminds you of the molasses cookies your mother makes for Christmas each year. Then she leans in and gives you a light kiss before whispering against your lips, “Without you being so close I’m getting a little chilly. Do you think you could help me out, sweetheart?” And to add onto her smooth as honey voice, the medium tilts her head so she looks up to you through her long lashes.

Billie Dean Howard is going to be the death of you. But hey—at least you’ll die happy.

You return a small, shy smile and scoot closer to her while answering, “I’ll try to help.” The blonde chuckles at your response and wraps both of her arms around you. When you’re snuggled back into her side the same way you were cuddled before while watching the movie, you partially nuzzle into Billie’s silky locks and she lets out a hum of pleasure and amusement before murmuring, “Oh sweetheart, you’re helping so much already.” The vibration of her voice helps to warm your entire body and you’re grateful you have another hour on the plane as you softly reply, “Good.”

By the time you walk up to the check in desk at your hotel, it’s just past 2 in the morning. Luckily since you’re used to Pacific Standard Time it only feels like 11:00pm. However, you have to wake up at 6:30 this morning which will feel like 3:30 in the morning to you.

3:30. You are going to need more than 2 cups of coffee to keep you going.

The luxurious, 5-star hotel lobby is empty except for a couple of staff members so checking in is a breeze. Then the hotel concierge hands Billie her room key before giving you one to your room and they ask with a pleasant smile, “Would you like any help bringing your luggage up to your room?” On your part, you only have one rolling suitcase as well as a small purse. Billie has a large suitcase and purse, so you look to her for direction.

She looks to them and gives her trademark smile as she murmurs, “I think we’re good. Thank you, sweetheart.” So they wish you a goodnight and you make the short walk to the elevators.

Once you’re inside one and ascending to the 27th floor, Billie asks, “Can I see your room key for a second?” Without thinking you reply, “Sure.” And hand it over. However you quickly recognize your error when she tosses it into her bag and says, “We won’t be needing that.” Your eyes widen at her action and for a moment you are stunned into silence. However you make yourself speak up and stutter, “Wait, Billie, that’s—that’s the key for my room.”

The medium chuckles at your words and teases, “Would it really be that bad to stay with me? I mean—I can look for it in my bag…or we can just share my room?”

That little minx! She isn’t wrong though. Sleeping with Billie for a couple nights? That is a dream come true.

So you let out a sigh and tiredly relent, “We—we can share your room.” She gets her Cheshire cat grin and as the elevator door opens, she purrs, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” You let her step out first and as she leads the way you can’t help but wonder what your boss has in store for you for the next couple days.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic, @marvelfansince08love, @wilheminawinters, @dontsblameme, @mssallymckenna

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

Part 6

#Business And Pleasure #AHS #ahs imagine #ahs fic #ahs fanfic #ahs billie dean howard #billie dean howard #billie x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #ahs sarah paulson #sarah paulson #ahs sarah paulson’s characters #ahs murder house #AHS Murderhouse #ahs hotel #ahs apocalypse

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swiftgronmasterpost · 4 years ago

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Glee Live Tour Part 4 - The ShirtGate Essay Dianna published to the felldowntherabbithole Tumblr

Inserting a cut because this thing is long

or skip Dianna’s gay panic and click here to keep reading the masterpost!

June 2, 2000

What does that day, month and year mean to you? President Bill Clinton used that particular day to declare ”Gay and Lesbian Pride Month”. Nine years later, on June 1st, President Barack Obama spoke to incorporate an even wider group. Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered citizens alike could all have this month for recognition, respect and appreciation. However, I am aware that not all minds meet equally about the rights and respect that we should pay to others. As each generation leaves their footprints, and paves the way for what is to come…to some, change is an impossible idea or action to put in motion.

You know what? Often, this unfortunate reality is because of learned behavior! As much as we may often preach that we like to speak for ourselves, or outside the box, how many times have you caught yourself, or someone you know repeating the thoughts of another before them? Sometimes without proper information? And how many times have you felt that perhaps further knowledge on an issue or subject matter might result in a different voice, a different understanding? Perhaps even going against the ideas they’ve learned, heard, or grown up around? We have the ability to fly planes, send astronauts into space, develop technology such as cellphones! Things that once were unfathomable. I can sit at this small computer and type this message. Once I push send, this message can be seen by anyone who’d like to engage, all across the WORLD.

As many of you know, we (the Glee cast) have been storming the country at whirlwind speeds to put on a forty-two show, month-long tour. It has been a constant reminder of why we do this. We’ve witnessed the impact our show has had, from the very beginning, to these moments, three years later. You LOVELY & AMAZING fans! Just indescribable. The love, affirmation, and dedication you provide! We see it all, value it all. Trust me, we do! On stage, the excitement that we absorb from your ball of energy brings our adrenaline levels to highs that often-times, we aren’t sure we can reach. Bottom line, we love you guys. And our crew! Without this diverse group of hard-working people, this venture would be impossible.

Yesterday was June 11th, and we were tackling our newest location, Toronto! We had finished our first concert of the day, and I was about to take a moment to relax before the second. On the way to our dressing rooms, I passed a stack of shirts lined up on the merchandise tables. The white T’s were modeled after shirts we wore in a performance set to Lady Gaga’s, “Born This Way.” This sparked an idea. And that idea ended up on stage.

Kindness moves mountains. Acceptance opens doors, makes room for change, diffuses misunderstanding. Every day, people commit hate crimes because of misunderstandings. Hate effects the target, and consumes the person behind the gun. It is crazy to realize that we have been in war for almost our entire existence on this planet. Many times for reasons of greed and hate.

Anyone that has experienced the death or abuse of a loved one can tell you that, “IT HURTS BEYOND EXPLANATION!!! AND WE SHOULD DO EVERYTHING IN OUR POWER TO MAKE ANY CHANGE POSSIBLE.” Raise your hand if you’ve spent nights crying yourself to sleep, raise your hand if you’ve felt as if you’d rather hide in bed all day than face the people that make you feel small or powerless! Raise your hand if you’ve felt as if you’d rather lie to people than tell them the truth about who you really are, because at least you wouldn’t be the victim of hateful behavior or prejudice! And raise your hand if lying feels almost as bad.

I was not raised in a family that accepted prejudice or hatred. For that, I thank my Mom and Dad each and every day. Look, we are human, we make mistakes. I will gladly shout from the rooftops that I AM NOT PERFECT. Nor will I ever be. But I can happily say that to my knowledge, I do not ever intentionally cause people pain. I love my family, my friends, my co-workers…and they all consist of girls AND boys. I do tell them that I love them. Yesterday, during our second show, Instead of wearing my usual shirt during “Born This Way” I decided to wear one that said “Likes Girls”. It should actually have read, “Loves Girls”, because I do. The women in my life give me things that the men in my life can’t. And vice-versa. No, I am not a lesbian, yet if I were, I hope that the people in my life could embrace it whole-heartedly. And let me tell you, I can easily spill (quite comfortably) what I admire, respect and think is beautiful about any of the women in my life. Piece of cake!

Last night, I wanted to do something to show my respect and love for the GLBT community. Support that people could actually see. Which is why I decided to change my shirt for the show. I happened to read a few comments that were posted on twitter. Many of you asked, “why?” This is my response. I am not asking for you to agree with what I am saying, but if you are listening, thank you. That is all I can ask. And a step further would be to take a moment to (honestly) answer the questions that I have raised. We can’t always put ourselves in someone else’s shoes. But we can try.

I am lucky to live in a place where I can wear almost anything that I want to express myself, and that jail is not a probable consequence. Which makes me feel as if I should exercise my right to do so every now and then. Think of the people that have died because of their passion and heartfelt hopes of change? So many good men and women. All because of an inherent wish for tolerance, love and support.

Our show celebrates the GLBT community. We are proud to be a part of something that embraces an often avoided topic. Hate is terrible, especially when we pass it down to a new generation of innocents. Recently, I heard a lament about San Francisco. How SFO just didn’t sound like a fun place to be, or visit, because that person wasn’t gay. Wait, really???? I wanted to laugh! But that would have been a response that wouldn’t have encouraged that person to be open-minded. To see that perhaps, their statement was foolish? Why won’t San Francisco be fun for you? Do you think the whole city is gay? Do you think they will judge you? Won’t feed you good food? Perhaps they won’t let you have fun, the way THEY have fun?

Sadly, we’ve gotten letters from people who explain that they love the show but hate the gay story-lines. That we shouldn’t be polluting their children’s heads. To this I’d sometimes like to sarcastically reply, would you also like us to tell them that a stork is dropping off our offspring? That the sky is purple? That it is not practical to be true to yourself, because there are mean people in this world that will make them feel wrong for being honest? That instead of embracing themselves, they should lie to the world? THEY should be the ones being untrue and unhappy?

I believe that if you are bringing a child into the world, you should be willing to accept them in any reality. Whether they are Black, White, Asian, have four fingers, are disabled, gay….that the only wish should be for a happy and healthy baby. We are each other’s children. Unless someone has committed a violent or hateful act, why should we judge? We can so quickly resort to anger, often, the product of a whole other issue. Most often, an issue with our own self.

I understand that I am sitting behind the protection of this computer screen, in this hotel room, and to many I might sound “preachy”. Especially now that I have written an essay. I hope my intentions sound pure, and just. I speak, because I am passionate. I write with this passion because I know how it feels to be hurt, to be depressed, to not value yourself, or your feelings. If any of this has inspired or moved you, even just made you think….I encourage you to tweet or reblog a picture, quote, anything that you feel will continue to spread the love. And if any are interested in tracking the chain, perhaps visualizing the greater collective, include the hatch tag, #letlovein.

Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives. - C.S. Lewis

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. - Lao Tzu

Fortune and love favor the brave. - Ovid

AND remember that sometimes….

People need loving the most when they deserve it the least. - John Harrigan

To thine own heart be true. Many thanks for your time, your love, and the gift you’ve given me.

Sincerely,

Dianna Elise Agron

Click here to keep reading!

#shirtgate #essay #2011

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lisinfluencers · 4 years ago

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Influence & politics on social media

For the Twitter application assignment for this unit, I took a look at the twitter pages of some bestselling authors. I landed on Elin Hilderbrand for the assignment, but I wanted to expand on one of the tweets I saw while I was researching her page. This was my tweet for the assignment:

“On Twitter, Elin Hilderbrand promotes her work and shares personal opinions. Making her relatable to some, it leaves her open to criticism from her own fans.”

I mentioned the fact she was open to criticism from her own fans because of this particular tweet (pertaining to the Capitol riot in January):

I went through her Instagram page and found the post she was referring to:

Caption:

There were many comments with words of support, but some followers responded with their discontent about her post like these comments:

· “Racism????”

· “Why weren’t you aghast & verklrmpted all summer when people were burning police precincts down, tearing up statues & ruining small businesses? Double standard? Yes, yesterday was awful, but it was not systemic racism.”

· “Elin. As a “friend” I am so disappointed that you have gotten into politics. You are an “escape” for all of us. This is such a race to judgement. Our cities have been under attack and there has been nothing but silence. Businesses have been ravaged. There is a lot of blame to go around – when you give it some serious thought. Would you do that, please. Think.”

The last example displays one of her followers telling Elin that her page shouldn’t be used for real conversations, that Elin is an “escape”, therefore, she shouldn’t be using her platform to share her opinions. The idea that she shouldn’t be able to use her platform for her own thoughts and feeling seems extremely wrong and belittling. Elin isn’t alive just to write books for her readers, we all offer more than one thing to the world, so why would one of her followers be so comfortable telling Elin to essentially “stay in your own lane”?

Celebrities sharing their opinions about politics, the Me Too movement, racism, abortion, and other indisputably important issues in this country has become an issue of its’ own. Many people think celebrities, or anyone with influence, should keep their opinions to themselves. Sam Eichner, a writer for UrbanDaddy, discusses this topic mentioning “incensed readers of this very publication who tell us to stick to the topics we know best, like food, drink, travel, etc, and not venture into the realm of politics, are suggesting we stay in our lane.” While these comments from readers and followers aren’t surprising, they are confusing. Afterall, once you’re eighteen years old, you can vote freely in elections. All of our opinions make a difference so what is the effect of those with influence displaying their opinions about these important issues then?

Back in 2016, Nives Zubcevic-Basic pointed out that “marketers happily spend millions on celebrity endorsers as they are able to leverage “secondary brand associations” – that is, people transfer their opinions and feelings about a celebrity to the brand.” It’s also noted that “Oprah Winfrey’s endorsement of Obama in 2008 was found to increase overall voter participation and number of contributions received by Obama, and an estimated overall 1 million additional votes”. Celebrities’ endorsements can really make a difference in voter turn-out. Are the people saying celebrities and the like should stay in their own lane upset because they are using their voices for politics, or because they do not share the same opinions?

- Jackie Johnson

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? Yeah, I have the wireless black ones.

How was your week? Ugh, I’ve had a bad pain flareup this week.

Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? My phone has been acting up for the past month. It starts to get warm pretty fast when I’m on YouTube, which crashes a lot for me lately despite my phone and app being up to date on the updates. The battery has been dying a lot faster. It’s also been laggy. I have the iPhone XR, which is considered old now. It was working perfectly fine up until the past month, though.

Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I don’t plan on getting married.

When was the last time you felt relieved? Hm. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that.

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? No, I wouldn’t say that. Some covers and remixes are good.

What brand of chapstick do you use? EOS or Vaseline.

Do you really think someone could be perfect? Nope.

When was the last time you cried? Yesterday.

What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? I’m not as into Mexican food as I once was, but I still like to have it now and then.

What letter is the song you’re listening to under? I’m not listening to music right now. If I’m doing a survey, just assume I’m listening to an ASMR video.

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? I guess the 70s.

Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? From certain people.

Do your socks say anything on them? They say, “Adidas.”

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. MTV.

Have you found out who your true friends are? I don’t have any friends.

Gray or Grey? Gray is the American spelling, but I honestly prefer “grey.”

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? No. Who knows when I’ll attend a concert again. It’s been over 10 years since my last concert, so I can’t even blame covid. I hope to attend one again, though. I miss ‘em.

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Yeah, I liked it.

Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? My loved ones.

How many weddings have you been to? Three.

When you smile, are you confident? No.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol. <<<

Was the weather beautiful today? I’m really upset that we’re having 90 F still when it’s OCTOBER. Summer just won’t go away. D:

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yep. During the summer months and even still cause California summers are miserably long, I have 3 fans going at all times. When it finally cools down I can go down to one. We’ve had some especially cold winters (for us) some years and during those I didn’t need any fans. Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? I guess out of those I’d choose gray. I’d really not have any of those, though.

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? Nah.

Have you ever gone to a private school? Yes. Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? No, but I do like it.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? My preschool did.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? It’s on TV Land currently. The Golden Girls is on.

Does your house have security cameras? Yes.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? No. I don’t care much for popsicles. I’m not even a big ice cream person in general, but if I wanted something like that I’d go for ice cream over a popsicle.

What’s your favorite exercise workout? I don’t workout.

What’s your favorite thing to do? I like to do my Bible studies, spend time with family, check my social medias (TikTok, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat), watch YouTube videos, watch TV, scroll through Tumblr, do surveys, read, play Animal Crossing: New Horizons, drink coffee, sleep... there’s other things, but those are things I do on a normal, everyday basis.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? Wow, I really don’t recall. Probably just something small with the fam.

Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? Yeah.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? No. I had a lot of stuffed animals as a kid, but I didn’t really have a particular favorite. Now, as a full grown adult, I have a shitload of giraffe stuffed animals and a few others and I love ‘em all.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? If it was like legit crazy weird stuff happening like the movies then we’d be moving asap lol. It wouldn’t be like every movie where somebody is like, “oh it’s fine, we’re not going anywhere” but things were definitely not fine.

Are you good at swimming? No, I can’t swim. If I actually go swimming, which is not something I care to do and it’s been almost 10 years now since the last time, I have to use a inner tube and I stay close to the edges, not venturing very far away at all. When I was a kid I had those little plastic or inflatable pools that didn’t fill up very high so I was okay in those and actually enjoyed it.

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet drives me insane. People walking slowly in front of me is quite annoying, though, especially as someone in a wheelchair. Especially people who abruptly stop in front of me.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Play and use me.

Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well, my bed always stays made. I sleep and sit on top and just use a throw blanket that I keep to the side.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? ASMR videos can help me get sleepy, but I can’t really do anything to fall asleep faster. It happens when it happens.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? No. I always have a bottle(s) nearby on my bedside table, though.

Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It is a fear of mine.

Are you a fast or slow walker? I don’t feel I wheel fast normally, but I guess compared to the average walking speed it might be considered fast.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? I never wear a belt.

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? It’s awkward for me cause I’m often at the level of most people’s behinds in my wheelchair.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? No.

When’s your birthday? July 28th.

What age do you look forward to reaching? I’m 31 now, there aren’t anymore exciting milestones. Not to me, anyway.

Name a state that begins with the letter M. Massachusetts.

What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? I’ve never been in one, thankfully.

What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth.

What exercise do you hate the most? I don’t exercise.

What do you do at a party? I haven’t been to a party in years, and didn’t go to many anyway, but I was always one who clung to the people I knew and was closest to and just chilled and snacked haha. The parties I went to were more lowkey and chill, though. Never anything wild or crazy. My family get togethers were often quite big, but I was more comfortable at those. Although, even then I stuck by my mom and the cousins I was close to haha. That’s just how I am.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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shadowdianne · 5 years ago

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Tales from isolation

In case someone wants to know how are things around here let me put an example of what happened yesterday when I ventured outside of my flat in which I’ve been for the past week or so:

In the short ten-minute walk to the nearest store -because we are not allowed to go out aside from that, work in case you can’t work from home or you haven’t been sacked (plenty of people I know have so, heh, that’s another funny story), and very little else, I was stopped three times by the police. Every time I needed to show them proof of where I was going, why and where I live in order for them to have a general timestamp of how long I was going to be outside.

And yeah, we all have seen the posts and we all have seen twitter and we all are sick, fed up and tired about this whole thing but trust me when I say that we were making jokes and considering this a mild thing at best less than 2 weeks ago -or perhaps 2 and a half, time is difficult atm- and now look at us. And I work with visas, I was attending people who already came from infected and into-being lockdown zones way before everything exploded. None or very little measures were taken. By the time I was capable of being home I had already been sick for a number of days but I never got into the medical facilities because of my age despite having already had pneumonia and therefore being someone who could develop it again.

To put things into perspective Madrid’s ice rink has been transformed into a morgue due to the number of deaths they are currently having SOLELY there.

And I will not speak about my hometown because I will probably start crying. So yeah, please, listen to the medical authorities because, oh boy, it’s gonna be needed.

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zmediaoutlet · 5 years ago

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fic: slow as you can go

This story was written as a commission for @armellin and @jesusonthetortillas, to illustrate this lovely J2 pic Armellin created.

Pairing: Jared/Jensen Rating: E Tags: Non-AU ‘Canon’ Divergence, Established Relationship, Married Sex Summary: After a convention, Jared and Jensen come home for a brief break. They've earned it.

(read on AO3)

Plane travel will never be Jared's favorite thing—it's probably never going to crest the top thousand of his favorite things—but flying first class definitely makes it better. Actual legroom, for one, and constant booze for another. He stretches out, trying to ignore the constant annoying hum from the engines and the wind against the fuselage, and sips at what may well be his third gin and tonic—but who's counting. Lime and bitter, and it's good, but not as good as what's waiting for them at home.

Thinking of home makes him tip his head to the side against the soft seatback. He smiles. The view in first isn't half-bad, either.

Jensen's sleeping, again. He hasn't shaved all weekend and the stubble's coming in that golden-red color that drives Jared crazy, a little. He doesn't think Jensen's noticed the way Jared likes to run his lips against it, but then again Jensen's pretty observant, about all things Jared, so maybe he has. Doesn't matter either way; it's not like Jared's gonna stop. It's a midmorning flight and most of their fellow passengers are absorbed in whatever high-level business crap they have going on with their laptops, and there's not a flight attendant hovering asking if they need anything. Safe to take a moment and run his knuckles against all that prickly stubble, feel the reverse-grain burn of it against his skin. He really cannot wait to get home.

Jensen makes a soft upset sound, deep in his throat. Whoops. When he stirs into blinking awake Jared makes an apologetic grimace—well-practiced from work, although Sam usually actually feels apologetic and Jared doesn't, right now, not really. Jensen squints at him, clearly still half-gone, and Jared whispers, "Sorry," but he strokes Jensen's jaw again, soft, so it probably doesn't come off as all that genuine.

A beat of Jensen only blinking at him, fuzzy. He presses into Jared's knuckles for the barest second, like a cat, before he scrunches further down in his chair, closes his eyes again. "Keep it in your pants for a few more hours, Jay," he says, scratchy-low. Jared scoffs, and Jensen's mouth turns up at the corners but he's really settled in, going back to sleep for whatever time he has left. Lazy.

Jared sighs, puts his earbuds in. According to the flight map on the seat they've got about eight hundred miles left to get back home. That'll get him through Vs. and most of Vitalogy before he's got to face the real world again, and they'll be a good distraction, will stop him from bothering Jensen before he's allowed. Sometimes he really hates Jensen's no PDA rule, but hell. Doesn't mean he can't make all kinds of plans, in the privacy of his own head.

Over the years of flying all over the country—all over the world, now, with the conventions overseas—they've pretty well perfected getting out of an airport in record time, and from wheels-down at Austin-Bergstrom it takes them less than an hour to pull into their driveway. Home's a gorgeous spread on the lake, a long private drive and mature trees all over the grounds. The house is a compromise: Jensen thought it was too much space, and Jared thought the layout was too weird, but the private dock won them both over. Jared's gladder every day that they pulled the trigger, though, and gladder still that they've been able to maintain some semblance of privacy. No Insta-pictures here, no interviewers allowed. Means that when Jensen pulls the Range Rover into the garage there's no one trying to peep in and see what they're doing, no weird fans or photographers to see Jared lean over as soon as Jensen puts it into park and palm his jaw and pull him in and kiss him. Startled at first, but then he smiles against Jared's mouth and kisses back, slow and shallow.

"You've been waiting to do that all day," Jensen murmurs, when Jared pulls back, and Jared shrugs, not denying it. He's been waiting to do a lot more. He drags his thumb over the beginnings of Jensen's beard again, looks at him. The garage's huge windows let in a wave of late-morning light, casts gold over Jensen's eyes, sparks his lashes and stubble golden-red. Shows off his freckles, and the shine on his lip that Jared left. He touches there, a swell of heat in his belly, and Jensen smiles again but catches his hand before he can do more. "C'mon. Let's get this done."

Jared sighs. "Do we have to?" Jensen only rolls his eyes, and kisses Jared's thumb. "Fine," Jared says, "but you owe me."

"Oh, I bet," Jensen says, but he swings out of the car then, too, and Jared's got no choice but to follow. There are things they should do, it's true. And hell, they have today off, and tomorrow too, before they have to fly back to Vancouver. They have time. They've made the time.

Jensen's in charge of sorting out the laundry, because he says that he can't trust Jared to empty the pockets right—total lies—and so Jared takes the time to go through the house, room by room. Saying hello, and checking up, too. They've got paid caretakers, gardeners and Maricela who comes by twice a week to dust up and clean, but it's still their house. Jared misses it, like a dope, when they're gone. Most of the curtains are drawn, by Maricela's habit, and he opens them up, lets all the light in. The living room, the den, the lounge where they regularly trounce Steve at pool, when they actually get to be home. The kitchen, and there the little neat list Maricela left of things she had to buy, things she threw out, and a note that she made salsa and left it in the fridge.

That's where Jensen finds Jared, when he comes back downstairs with a laundry basket. "I see you're hard at work," he says, dry, but he lets Jared put a salsa-laden chip in his mouth anyway, and hums. Damn right. Maricela's tomatillo salsa is worth taking a break for. "Mm, okay," Jensen says, through a full mouth. "Okay, fair. But, dude."

"I'm going, I'm going," Jared says, and caps the salsa back up, promising to get back to it later.

He goes and plugs in both of their phones, and sits in the office with the window open, jasmine-smell pouring in, while he emails their reps. A handful of pictures they each took, to be parted out on their SM for the fans to get excited about over the next few days, and a couple of quotes and stories to write up. Jared gave up control of his Twitter a year or two ago after the last time he had a bad day and was an idiot, and Jensen took his phone right out of his hand and grabbed him around the waist and said, Enough, Jay. Annoying at the time, but honestly, it's so much more relaxing to just be… cut off.

Still, sometimes he does like to see what people are posting. That photographer who's been following them around got some good shots, looks like. He scrolls through the feed. Nice pictures of the ladies—Brianna and Kim have really been glamming it up lately—and he laughs hard enough at a ridiculous cap of Misha that he has to text it over, with no comment, and a minute later gets a brief I hate you in response. He grins, tosses his phone back down to charge, and finally ventures into some of the fan shots in the hashtag. He's trained himself pretty well not to read the commentary—the options seem to be either fawning, which is uncomfortable, or vile, which is what it is—but from what he can't help but see people seem to have enjoyed it. Since they moved in together, some of the nuttier girls have gone off the deep end, but for the most part things quieted down. Now there's just a lot of happy encouragement sent their way. A lot of real, intense messages, too, and questions at conventions he wishes he had a better answer for. If only they'd managed to make it happen when those it gets better videos were going around. It got so much better, he wants to say. Not perfect, because nothing's perfect and never should be, but oh, man. It got a lot better.

"That's a good one," he hears, and blinks back to reality, after who knows how long. The picture on the screen's one of them—of course, one of them—taken by one of the girls in the audience. From the angle Jensen's face is the only one visible, and he looks… Well, really, Jared's the only one who should see him like that. The girls are always clever with their timing, though. Jensen comes up and leans over the back of his chair. "You know when that was?"

Jared shrugs. "Yesterday?" he says, and Jensen flicks the back of his shoulder. It's true, though—on stage everything turns into a blur. They were doing a bit, probably, because they usually are, but they're basically hugging. No PDA, that's always Jensen's rule, but there's no way Jared's not going to hug Jensen, given the opportunity. No matter how earsplitting the response.

"You don't remember?" Jensen says, and Jared looks up, over his shoulder. He's getting an amused look. "So you're just a little shit without even planning it?"

"I'm an enormous shit, thank you very much," Jared says, immediately, but then he remembers. "Oh, yeah."

"Oh, yeah, he says," Jensen says, rolling his eyes, and then shoves Jared's shoulder so the chair spins when Jared laughs. "Yeah, laugh it up. Like I wasn't trying to think about saggy ass and reshoots in the rain when you were just grinning up a storm, shithead."

Jared catches him around the waist, still chuckling. "I really didn't mean to," he says, and it's—mostly honest. Jensen folds his arms, playing irritated, but Jared's been watching him about to break for a gag reel for over a decade now and he can see the cracks. He stands up, still holding onto his waist, and gets right up in his space, looking down, grinning. "Not my fault you're all hot and bothered for my bod."

That gets him a snort, and he leans down and takes a kiss while Jensen's smiling. That was—yeah, he remembers now. Right there, in front of everyone, and he'd gotten to come in close and hold Jensen's body and he'd brushed his mouth against the top of Jensen's ear, and the little sound Jensen made wasn't one the mics would pick up. He pulls back, now, and watches Jensen licks his lips. Tasting them both. God, it's hot when he does that. Jared keeps hold of his waist and walks him backwards, pressing him up against the wall between the signed Pearl Jam poster and Jensen's framed Willie records, and Jensen's eyes are closed, his ears going red, and that's a perfect opportunity to lean in and down and breathe against his ear again, to brush his lips there, to feel Jensen give that full-body shiver that means—oh, yeah. They're on.

"Like that?" Jared says, and Jensen punches him soft in the gut. He says oof, obligingly, but he's smiling.

"Right in front of everybody," Jensen says, looking up. He licks his lips again, his eyes on Jared's mouth. "You know that drives me crazy, Jay."

"Yeah, I know," Jared says, shrugging, and Jensen rolls his eyes, but he squeezes Jared's bicep, too, curves in close, and Jared kisses him again and thinks, well, maybe he'll be in some trouble—later.

They've been together a long time, though. It's not a crazy, heady rush—not even close to their first time, all shock and teeth and shoving, good and painful and intense enough that Jared thought his heart would just beat right out of his chest. Jensen holds his arm, holds him close there against the wall, kisses him soft and lazy. He makes a little pleased noise when Jared scrapes teeth over his lip, tips his nose against Jared's. "Wanna shower," he mumbles, and Jared groans, stands up straight. With Jensen down to his socks, pressed back against the wall, Jared's got the advantage, and Jensen—yeah, that's working for him. Another thing about being together this long: Jared knows exactly how to push every button.

He lets Jensen lead the way down the hall to their bedroom, and then to the huge open bath. "Music?" Jared says, and Jensen shrugs, and so Jared flips through his phone and finds the playlist with the name Jensen hates: funky grooves to fuck to—but the name's accurate. Slow grinds, heavy bass, and when it comes on to the surround speakers Jensen pauses in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt to give Jared a look over his shoulder. Jared only grins and shrugs at him, perching his ass on the bathroom counter, and Jensen gives a sigh but he keeps stripping, so it's all good in Jared's book.

Big window across the back wall of the bathroom, letting in more of that syrupy daylight. They haven't been able to get out much lately and Jensen's skin has gone all creamy again, freckles fainter, except on his cheekbones and hands where they never really fade. He flips on the shower, strips off his jeans, and he doesn't look at Jared when he steps under the water, which is just as well because Jared's pretty sure he's got a dorky goddamn look on his face. Years and years of this and he's used to most of it, even sometimes takes some of what they have for granted. Jensen naked and shining in the sunlight, though, that's—a lot, no matter what. Jensen letting him see, when he used to be almost shy—that's more, sometimes, than Jared knows how to take.

That first time isn't the one Jared thinks about, much. Too much booze in both of them, and too much of a chance for regret. The second time, that's the one he thinks of as their real anniversary. That night, at Jensen's apartment in Vancouver, and the doorman had let Jared up because he saw Jared about as much as he saw Jensen, and that meant that Jared got all the way up there fueled on adrenaline and hope and knocked on the door before he thought that maybe, maybe Jensen wouldn't—that maybe they'd broken something, between them, and putting it back together wasn't in the cards. When Jensen opened the door he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt Jared had given him, and he was wearing his glasses, and the look on his face was—Jared's never forgotten that. That exact moment, right then. What came after was almost immaterial, compared to that single second.

What came after wasn't exactly a hardship, though, and between them they've always been good at this. When Jared steps under the spray and touches all that wet soft skin Jensen doesn't flinch, but only tips backward, knowing Jared will balance him. "What if I just dropped you?" Jared says, and Jensen huffs, turning so the shower scatters over his shoulders.

"You think that'll increase your chances of getting any," Jensen says, sliding his hands up Jared's chest, "go ahead and try it."

It's a great shower, multiple showerheads and plenty of room for two. They pass soap back and forth between them, getting clean-ish, and Jensen spends some time mapping the muscle in Jared's back, his ass, his thighs. In return Jared washes Jensen's hair, just to massage his scalp and neck and feel the way he almost purrs in response, and presses kisses all over his shoulders when he's done. He's always loved this part—broad, undeniably masculine, perfect. "What do you want?" he says, leaning in, and he's really asking. They have all day, they can do anything.

Jensen's hand finds his hip, squeezes. His head tips, and Jared finds the curve of his ear again, kisses at the back of it. Gets another shiver, Jensen's shoulders pressing wet and warm against his chest. "I want it…" Jensen trails off, and shakes his head. He detaches Jared's hand from his waist, lifts it, presses his mouth against Jared's knuckles soft and wet and shocking-hot, and his eyes when they meet Jared's are heavy, dark, steady.

Dried off, laid out on their bed with the music still playing, Jensen leans over Jared's chest and kisses him, open-mouthed and taking his time about it. He's always loved kissing and Jared's come to love it too, even if he always used to think of it as just a preamble when he was younger. Jensen's taught him a lot, over the years. How good it is just to lay together, and how good a silk-blend coverlet feels against his skin, and how the point of his jaw can get almost painfully sensitive when Jensen's hands are buried in his hair, and Jensen's mouth moves there, and his teeth scrape against that open curve of bone. "Jesus," Jared says, squirming like he always does, and Jensen laughs, ducks down and bites at his collarbone instead, and oh, yeah. Things Jared never knew he liked, never knew were even a thing. Jensen squeezes at his dick, heavy already with blood and wanting, but it's not a yanking goad into getting along with things—it's just familiar, almost kind. Hello.

More things Jared didn't know: how much Jensen likes it, that Jared's bigger than him. He pushes Jensen onto his back, after a while of Jensen playing, and rolls in so he's hovering, blocking Jensen from the sunlight, and they're pressed against each other hip to hip but Jared's still got five inches on him—four, if Jensen's lying to the press—and Jensen's already flushed, already hard, all open and ready for it, but his lips part in that fantastic turned-on way, getting Jared above him, and Jared smiles, slides his hand down Jensen's side. Other things Jared didn't know: how much he'd like that Jensen wanted him bigger. "Want to suck my dick?" Jared says, soft, and Jensen's eyes screw closed, his hips flinch up into Jared's, but he breathes out a moan, and Jared lifts up, shuffles up the bed on his knees, and Jensen wraps an arm around his hips and a hand around his dick and sucks it in, practiced, easy. So slick, soft, and Jared sighs and cups a hand around the back of his head to support him and fucks in, shallow but good. Middle-of-the-night whispering, years ago, and Jensen had admitted he liked the way his jaw felt sore, after, and Jared had almost busted a nut just thinking about it—easy enough to indulge Jensen, especially when it feels this goddamn good.

"You look incredible," he says, being nothing but honest. Pink flush over his cheekbones to his ears, streaking down his throat—his perfect mouth broken open over the thickness of Jared's dick—and he opens his eyes, looks up as he slides down as far as he can go, the head threatening his throat, and the slight sheen of tears is just—god, god, how did Jared ever get this lucky? He pulls back, all the way out with his prick gleaming all over with Jensen's wet, the vein gleaming, and Jensen sucks in a deep breath, licks his lips, and groans when Jared slides all the way deep again, and digs his nails into Jared's ass to keep him going.

They've got enough practice that Jared won't come from this, but god is it tempting. A long, slow rut in, and he knows Jensen could take it faster, but that's not how he wants to play it. He pulls out when his nuts start to clutch up for real, and Jensen gasps and holds his hips and says, rasping, "Fuck," and Jared can't do anything but agree. He leans down, dick dragging wet over Jensen's stomach while he finds his lips to kiss them, tasting himself, massaging the sore worked muscle in Jensen's cheeks. "Good?" he says, and Jensen moans, holds him, thighs clutching around Jared's hips when they settle together. He's still hard, harder, pressing thick against Jared's abs, and Jared tries to keep his head clear but it's tough, honestly, when he has Jensen like this.

"Tell me what you want?" he says, lips on Jensen's cheek, at the corner of his eye where tears leaked, when Jared pushed too deep. "C'mon, talk to me, tell me."

"Fucker," Jensen breathes, pressing up into him. "You know."

"Yeah," Jared says, against his temple, "but I want you to tell me anyway."

A game, sometimes. How raw he can get Jensen to be. "Fuck me," Jensen says, voice sore, and Jared laughs, breathless and delighted, his gut clutching up crazily at how good that sounds out of Jensen's mouth.

"How?" he says, pushing his luck, and Jensen pushes at his chest, forces him up so they can look at each other, and Jensen's eyes are nearly black and his lips are battered-red, and he says, "Like this," unexpected and low and soft, his fingers touching Jared's throat, and he says, "I want to see you," and Jared swallows, nods, doesn't have to say anything else.

Jensen doesn't need much prep anymore, and Jared doesn't want to make him wait. Slicked up, he dips his thumb in and watches Jensen's mouth part, and then he gathers Jensen's thigh up against his side and leans in close and pushes his dick inside, blooming past the resistance, going slow, and watches all of Jensen's attention turn inward. They've traded back and forth on this and Jared knows the feeling, that crazy stretch—but oh, from this side, that clutching tightness, squeeze of Jensen's body, feeling him all the way, it's like—nothing else. No one else. "Yeah?" he says, pointless, like he doesn't know, and Jensen blinks, refocuses, sinks his hand into Jared's hair and turns his face away from the sunlight and presses his lips against Jared's bicep, and he mumbles, slow, and Jared takes it like the command it is, and stays buried up close with his heart throbbing in his gut for a full minute before he twists his hips back and presses in again, following the beat of the slow bass playing, a steady pulsing rock. Jensen groans, his back arching, and Jared buries his face in Jensen's throat and does his duty, fucking good and deep and slow, giving everything he can, as long as he can.

The sounds Jensen makes—the smell of him, the sweat between them. Jared keeps his eyes closed, feels his skin, his pulse throbbing under Jared's lips. His balls ache but it's that sweet ache of a good fuck, his muscles humming like he's midway through a marathon. Jensen's got an arm wrapped around his neck, a hand on his chest, his legs clutched up high around Jared's waist, and inside he's melting-soft, broken-open-wet, his dick leaking slick all over Jared's stomach. Slow like this, Jared's not chasing anything and he gets to feel every inch, his skin an oversensitive tingle, hot from his lips to his nipples to his fingertips, overaware of every place they're touching.

Too hot, finally—the sun's sunk down, slicing through the bedroom windows, making the bed a pool of light. "Oh, god," Jared says, sliding a hand to Jensen's hip, squeezing. He rolls his forehead against Jensen's collarbone, humps in and stays there, pressed deep, grinding, so Jensen makes a hiccupy noise keep in his chest. "Yeah, that's it. Come on."

"Fuck," Jensen says, squirming against him, and his legs fall open, his thighs shaking. "Oh, I—Jay—yeah, come on, do it."

Jared drags in a breath, pushes up, finds Jensen red-faced and sweaty, his shoulders and chest shining. "Yeah?" he says, but there's no answer—he shoves in, harder, and Jensen lifts into it and groans, gripping at Jared's ass to pull him in deeper, and then that's—that's it. All the permission Jared needed, and he fucks like he means it, then, long deep in-and-out that's dragging at the absolute limits of his control, but he wants to get Jensen there first—and he's getting there, Jared knows he is, by how his hands clutch and his chest is heaving and how his dick's a dark urgent swell against his belly, dragging between them, a trail of wet spilling down Jensen's side. He balances on one arm and slides careful fingers around Jensen's balls, rubs them warm and tucks them up close against Jensen's body, and Jensen opens his eyes and stares at him, looking surprised somehow in the middle of all this. "Come on, baby," Jared whispers, slipping his thumb over the strained wet root of Jensen's pretty dick, and Jensen grabs at his arm and arches up and comes, finally, spurting all over his soft belly, his body straining and clutching at Jared's and ah, ah fuck, Jared did that for him, Jared made that happen—and Jared fucks him through it, keeps up that same steady pace and nails him right there where he needed it, where he wanted it as long as he could get it, until Jensen's thighs cringe and he presses his fingers against Jared's belly and he makes a low pained ah—and Jared pulls back, out, into cruel cold air for a half-second before he strips his dick as fast as he can go, the visual in front of him more than enough—Jensen sprawled and sweat-soaked and well-fucked, shuddering and sensitive, and his eyes open and his fingers curl against Jared's sides and he says, yeah, give it to me, show me, and Jared shoots over his knuckles, spatters Jensen's hip and the still-thick curve of his dick and his thigh, and Jensen sighs, as satisfied as though it were him who got to come a second time. He reaches for Jared, easy demand, and Jared goes, collapsing down onto the welcome stretch of his body, smearing everything between them, and it's worth it to find Jensen's mouth, soft, starting once again to smile.

#j2 fic #j2 non-au #my writing #commission #please admire the art piece really #it's so soft and good

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thedeaditeslayer · 6 years ago

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Bruce Campbell exclusive on reboot of Ripley’s Believe It or Not! for Travel Channel.

Fan favorite actor Bruce Campbell is executive producer and host of the reboot of Travel Channel’s new series Ripley’s Believe It or Not!

Filmed inside Ripley’s warehouse, each segment is a thorough concise look at unique individuals who blow people’s minds with their gifts. It runs the gamut from physical exceptionalism to flat-out death-defying deeds. Steering this eye-candy-licious ship is Campbell.

Over the film and television career of actor Bruce Campbell, we have loved his take on horror roles (Ash Williams in The Evil Dead franchise), perfectly honed dramatic characters (President Ronald Reagan on Fargo), and most recently as the critically acclaimed developer Gary Green in a three-episode arc on AMC’s Lodge 49.

Of course, Burn Notice fans loved him as Sam Axe, and legions of Starz’ Ash vs. Evil Dead fans are bereft over Ash’s recent cancellation and demise there.

This latest venture for Campbell sees him entering the production side of TV as well, and his instincts are dead-on accurate for what reality TV watchers want, well crafted true stories with no wasted frames, lots of heart, and plenty of jaw-dropping reveals.

We screened the premiere episode and were completely riveted to the tales.

Ohio native Rick Smith flicks playing cards at lethal speeds while dreadlocked Dai Andrews can swallow curved swords and live to talk about it. Tyler Scheuer takes it on the chin — literally — as he balances heavy odd objects.

Toronto native “Twisty” Troy James is a handsome contortionist who has worked in many TV shows (FX The Strain, CW’s The Flash) and movie roles, with his mentor Roberto Campanella referring to him as a “natural talent” and a “walking talking natural effect.”

The 10-episode, hour-long series is inspired by Robert Ripley’s love of the extraordinary in humanity, and Campbell is a good steward of this. We spoke to Campbell by phone yesterday for a fascinating interview:

Monsters & Critics: I’m incredibly jealous of you.

Bruce Campbell: Why is that?

M&C: Well, the Ripley’s Warehouse. You got to work in it… and poke around.

Bruce Campbell: Oh yes… I’ll never tell. I’ll never tell the secrets that I saw.

M&C: But what was the standout item that was a jaw-dropper for you?

Bruce Campbell: Well they always rotate displays. They had a [President Donald] Trump in the foyer. They had a life-size Trump. So I got a thumbs-up picture with that. So I’ve had a picture taken with a president.

They also had a life-size replica of the tallest guy ever. And when they do that, that’s different than a photograph. And they have all these great craftsmen that work in the warehouse doing prosthetics and doing these life-size replicas of things. And when you see that life-size of the tallest man ever, you go, “How does anyone get that big?” It really puts it in perspective.

So stuff like that was cool. I’m a sucker for enormous, oversized objects.

M&C: I think I saw that in the background on the premiere episode…

Bruce Campbell: Oh yeah, it’s hard to hide that guy.

M&C: I love that you’re serving as host, but you’re also wearing the executive producer hat. I’m sure someone like yourself, with a bazillion fans from every level, gets pitched a million things. Who contacted you? I know that you were aware of Ripley’s and you liked it as a kid…

Bruce Campbell: Oh, of course. Things come across your desk. They tracked down my agent, and then he throws it at you and you either ignore it or say yes, or no, or maybe.

And Ripley’s, soon as they said that, I’m like, “Okay, I’ve heard of that.” And, “Who’s it for?” “Travel Channel.” “Okay, I’ve heard of that.” So they were two for two, and that’s helpful.

I knew Ripley’s and I was fascinated by a lot of that stuff anyway. I felt it’s a pretty good fit for the Evil Dead crowd because we’re basically talking about people who live on the edge … these people who push it.

So it’s pretty good. It felt right. And the Travel Channel … it’s not your father’s Travel Channel anymore. So it’s a good fit for Travel Channel because they’re doing all these crazy, creep investigations now and stuff. I think it fits it right in.

M&C: Dovetailing on what you said earlier, I think we’re all fascinated with the human body. So much good, bad and otherworldly can happen in the human form; and afflictions, to gifts, talents.

Bruce Campbell: To DNA glitches.

M&C: Yes, exactly. And I think that that’s an interesting thing that the show… we don’t have “the freak show” anymore… but Ripley’s show, you’re kind of bringing back a Victorian freak show but in a much more humane and cerebral context...

Bruce Campbell: Well we don’t use the F-word anymore. We don’t, not in our Ripley world. Because you’ve got your ordinary people, and that’s you and me and our neighbor.

These people really are the extraordinary, beyond ordinary. What we’re doing is, we’re celebrating it. And my job as a producer… My input was tone.

So that you’re celebrating people who’ve overcome challenges; they are achieving great achievements just through tenacity and practice and focus. And a lot of life lessons in here. So the takeaway is very positive.

If it’s different from any other incarnation, it would be that — that people are not on parade.

Now granted, [there’s] no shortage of eye candy. There’s going to be a lot that’s going to make your eyes pop out. But in context, we want you to get to know these people, to understand, and in some cases respect their decisions.

M&C: Right. Each segment was really well-rounded for the time beat that it was, and you gave really good backstory. And it showed how people were prospering and making great livings, and absolutely celebrating their uniqueness. I like that you do that.

Bruce Campbell: It’s an incredibly dense hour. It’s a small hour. It’s like six or seven stories per hour. It’s crazy.

M&C: Yes. The first episode, Rick Smith with the flying lethal playing cards…The fact that he could lethally dismember someone’s finger…

Bruce Campbell: Yeah. He’ll kill you! At a press conference, he could kill you. He could kill you at a press conference. By the way, we’re going to try to drag some of these folks to conventions.

Because I told them, I said, “Look, this is what I do. You’ve got to…” How many boring movie panels have you witnessed, you know? Oh, it was very hot that day. Yes, my suit didn’t fit right. And we thought that was funny. “No, let’s get a panel of Ripley’s participants. I’ll give you a panel.” So we’re going to San Diego Comic-Con. We have a panel coming on, that Saturday.

M&C: You know it’s going to be standing-room-only. People are going to be hanging from the rafters…

Bruce Campbell: Well, it’s the right fit for that crowd too. And look, this is not Marvel. This is real, folks. These are real superheroes, for the most part.

M&C: When you look at your career, characters like Ash Williams, and Sam Axe… and then you’ve done very serious stuff in Fargo, and you had a great part in Lodge 49, which is a fun series. What kind of roles do you enjoy the most?

Bruce Campbell: Just mix it up. I think the fun is mixing it up. Because from Detroit, my hometown, as a factory worker you would hope that they had a thing called “job rotation.”

You’re putting tires on one week; next week, they move you to fenders; next week, you’re putting windows in. So you don’t go crazy. Because there’s a lot of rinse-repeat, in what we do. Television is done in a formulaic style, for the most part, at a certain speed, certain pace. And you have to kind of fold in, and get used to that.

But over the years, it’s been fun to also to exploit opportunities when they come up. Take something that is a little more out of the box. I’m doing Peter and the Wolf in front of my local orchestra, at the Britt Festival, here in Jacksonville, Oregon, this summer. And I’m all giddy about it.

I’m like, “Okay, yeah. Let’s do something with an orchestra.” So I’m going to narrate Peter and the Wolf. It is fun to actually live where you live. To participate. Because you can go hide, that’s pretty easy. But nice thing is, where I live, my neighbors… they could so give a crap about who I am or what I’ve done.

A neighbor… the week I moved in, he was a rancher across the street… he comes up the driveway. He goes, “I understand you’re a cowboy in a TV show.” I said, “Yes sir, I was.” He goes, “You know how to ride?” I said, “I think so.” He goes, “You want to help me run a hundred head of cattle up the road on Saturday?” I’m like, “Yeah, if you’ve got a horse.” “Yeah, I’ve got a horse.” I’m like, “Okay.”

So I met him on a Saturday. Met all the neighbors. We helped him run a hundred head of cattle up the road. And, there you go. I was a member of the neighborhood.

What’s nice is, you can actually just get out. As an actor, you actually don’t have to hide. Some actors spend way too much time hiding. I hide in plain sight. I’m behind you at the post office. I’m the guy with the cat hair all over his jacket.

M&C: Switching gears. So obviously I’ve trolled your Twitter feed. I’m looking for MK11 clues like everyone else…

Bruce Campbell: Oh, it’s gotten out of hand. It’s gotten completely out of hand. Here’s the absolute truth of it all: I’m a bad liar. So, here’s the truth of it.

There is an Evil Dead game that’s coming out. And it’s a fully immersive game. It’s going to be very intense. And we hope to be absolutely mind-blowing, like some new game.

But in the meantime what happens is, Evil Dead’s been reintroduced. Ash vs Evil Dead sort of made it relevant again. And there’s a lot of requests just to have Ash pop up, like a guest star, in a movie, or on a TV show. Have him pop up and do some crap.

So Dead by Daylight was pretty much that. Pop up, do a thing. But people thought that (a) I was a liar that, “Oh, I thought you were retiring Ash.” And then (b) that, “Oh, I guess Ash is now in this game,” like he was a fully immersed player.

And we started to see the ads for it like that. We were like, “Ahh, don’t misconstrue this.” I’m just popping in literally, saying like a dozen lines. Like, “Hey, come on baby,” or whatever. And he may pop up in other games.

M&C: Yes. Well, Mortal Kombat 11 (MK11). That’s where all the chatter is landing.

Bruce Campbell: It is.

M&C: And?

Bruce Campbell: Sure. Well, I would have to say that I can’t say anything officially. They have alluded to it because there’s a little chainsaw revving at the end when they allude to new characters. So there’s nothing I can say, but I can say that Ash has popped up in other games. And if he does pop up in this one, it’ll be in the same fashion.

It would be like a blink-don’t-miss it or load him for a quick little run at this, you know?

We’re saving full Ash. Full Ash is coming. We hope that this is just a warm-up, honestly. We’re actually doing it because… We’re saying it’s okay to do because it’s just sort of whetting people’s appetite for playing a game as Ash, which can be fun.

He’s a big trash talker. And he’s one of the few flawed heroes. He’s like you. He’s like your neighbor being a hero. It’s like you being a hero, just you putting a chainsaw on your arm. That’s what I think is cool.

M&C: It’s like giving a monkey a razor blade. Not a good idea.

Bruce Campbell: (laughs) Totally! Exactly. That’s dangerous. Give him a switchblade. That’s a better image. Like he pops it out, “Let’s go. Let’s rumble.”

M&C: Right. Your fans are something. Do the men meltdown easier than the women when they meet you in person? When I read interviews by fanboys who can’t hide it, it’s kind of cringey.

Bruce Campbell: It was mostly fanboys. My wife was always, “You have fun on your tours, with your fanboys.” Because she knew there was going to be no hotel-room keys being thrown my way because the demographics were like 90% guys.

And I’ve watched it go to 75-25. And now it’s basically 50-50, as far as fandom. And I’m saying that across the board, not just for me per se. Fandom is out of the closet. Geeks are out of the closest. The industry is currently run by geeks. It’s all good. It’s just, everything’s out of the closet now.

Our proof of our love of entertainment is out of the closet now. There’s more conventions than there ever have been, by 10 times. And the amount of TV that we actually binge is 10 times than we thought we were binging. It’s amazing.

M&C: To me, Ripley’s is almost like a history lesson, but time-traveling into the modern day…new stories…

Bruce Campbell: Well it’s seeing humans… What can the human body do? Question mark. What can it do? And this show answers some of those questions, in an amazing way. Blind kid just wants to ride his bicycle, just like another kid. Right?

He learns to echo-locate like a bat. Because bats fly around and go “click click,” little clicks, and it bounces off of the objects that they’re flying around. They can know how far away it is. Kid saw a bat do that. He was like, “Wait a second. I’m going to do that.”

So he starts clicking and bouncing sound off of buildings, and even trees. He knows how close they are, alleyways. And dog on it if he doesn’t learn how to ride a bike. And he gets so good at it, he’s teaching other blind kids how to do it so they can just ride a frickin’ bike. What a great story, what a great story.

Everything has to be a car accident, you know? These are really… I’d say 92% of our stories are uplifting.

M&C: Well I like you’re producing ethos. I hope you produce more interesting television, because boy, we sure could use it.

Bruce Campbell: Well I think you can have interesting and entertaining, and uplifting, at the same time, without even trying to be uplifting. If you pick the right subject matter, it is its own story. So these people are amazing. I hope the world can meet a lot of these people. I can’t wait to meet them. I haven’t met them.

M&C: Wow. Comic-Con. That’s going to be amazing. You’re going to be on a panel with them.

Bruce Campbell: Oh, yeah. It’ll be the first time for a lot of these people.

M&C: You’re known as a character actor, with these leading-man good looks, and you’ve aged really well. By the way, you look amazing. Whoever’s styling you and doing your hair, and suiting you up for the show gets an A. You look terrific.

Bruce Campbell: I’ll pass the word along.

M&C: No, you really do. You’re like the opposite of [Burn Notice] Sam Axe. You’re a sharp-dressed man as ZZ Top says. But who’s your favorite character actor?

Bruce Campbell: Jack Carson.

M&C: Who? Jack Carson?

Bruce Campbell: Yep, and that’s exactly… The response that you had is the one that I always get. “Who?”

But Jack Carson is your neighbor, he’s a cab driver, he’s the bartender. He plays a lot of the same characters, but he’s sort of the everyman. And he’s a guy that, you see him in a movie and you go, “Oh, that guy. I like that guy.” He’s not the steak. He’s the sizzle.

So that’s fun. There’s definitely guys that I look up to and go, “Who is that guy?” Because the guy had a great… worked forever.

#Bruce Campbell #Ripley's Believe it or Not

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femaconjibberred · 5 years ago

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One of the casualties was Amarildo de Souza

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raptorginger · 6 years ago

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The Waffle House Index

Yes, that’s a real thing used by FEMA

I did the thing! Short one shot inspired by the madness on Twitter yesterday

The heavy downpour continued its relentless assault on her windshield, and thunder kept rattling her bones, but Rey knew the worst of the hurricane was over. Hurricane Mary had slammed into Key Largo with little warning, and authorities had issued evacuation notices, but Rey hadn’t been able to get out in time. She had hunkered down with her landlord Unkar in his office at Niima Motel, both of them too stubborn to heed the notice before it was too late. Rey was cursing her stubbornness at the moment as she swerved carefully to avoid the trees, branches, and debris strewn about Highway 1. Unkar was grumbling in the seat beside her, anxious to get to their destination. Unkar would prefer to drive, but his truck was crushed beneath a palm tree, so Rey’s beat up Geo Tracker it was, and she never let anyone else drive her car.

“Watch it, girl!” Unkar snarled in his old man way, his arthritic fingers gripping the arm rest.

“I’m doing my best Mr. Plutt,” Rey snapped as she leaned forward to try and see the road better.

Unkar grumbled and coughed beside her, crossing his arms.

“Damn place better be open,” she muttered under her breath.

A snort of laughter erupted out of Unkar. “We’d be dead if it ain’t. If it’s closed that’d mean we survived the apocalypse.”

Rey shot him a confused glance before turning her eyes back to the road. “What?”

“You ain’t never heard of the Waffle House Index? Oh right, you’re from some snotty place in England.”

Rey rolled her eyes. The place she came from in England could never be called snotty, but Unkar considered all of England to be, how had he put it? Full of high falutin’ muckity mucks.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, girl. It’s a legitimate scale. FEMA uses it,” he boasted, puffing out his chest at knowing something she didn’t.

“What is the Waffle House Index, Mr. Plutt?” Rey asked, humoring him. Hopefully it’d keep him from side seat driving until they got to the restaurant.

Rey barely heard him as he blathered on about the index and the three color levels and what they meant. Finally Rey could see a tall sign glowing bright yellow through the haze of the rain. She slowed to a crawl, grateful there was hardly anyone else on the road, and watched for the turn. At last the actual sign for the restaurant appeared, glowing brightly like a beacon. Rey rotated the wheel and pulled into the parking lot, parking in a spot close to the entrance. She arched a brow in bemusement. The outside of the restaurant was styled like an old fashioned American diner with a bright yellow crown of sorts emblazoned with large black letters proudly proclaiming ‘Waffle House.’ She was happy to see that the inside was brightly lit, and she could even see a few people milling about inside.

“Looks like the index is green. Let’s go, girl,” Unkar said gruffly.

“Let me help you, Mr. Plutt,” Rey insisted, jumping out of the car and running over to the passenger side. She threw the hood of her dark green windbreaker up, holding it with one hand while she opened Unkar’s door with the other. He was muttering something about not needing help, that he could manage just fine on his own, he wasn’t an invalid, but his grip on her arm was firm and grateful as he carefully set the base of his cane on the pavement and stepped down. Rey smiled when she felt his hand pat her arm in thanks. She helped him into the restaurant, and she sighed with happiness as she felt the warm air hit her damp face. She pulled her hood down and sniffed. The place smelled of syrup and breakfast, and it indeed was fashioned like an old diner. A handful of people were seated at the bar, cups of hot coffee clasped between grateful hands. Rey’s eye was drawn immediately to a large figure slumped over the counter, his large hands swallowing the mug he was holding. His dark hair brushed his shoulders and shielded his eyes as he stared into the dark contents of his mug. A grey henley was stretched pleasingly over his torso, and the dark rinse jeans her was wearing seemed to fit him to a tee. Rey was suddenly glad Unkar had insisted on venturing out. He ran one large hand over the back of his neck and heaved a sigh.

Unkar released her arm and lifted it in greeting to a group of elderly patrons seated at a booth in the corner. They all waved and shouted greetings. Unkar’s poker buddies, Rey realized with some surprise. Apparently Unkar and his friends all shared the same sense of stubborness. Rey helped him over and made sure he was settled comfortably. He patted her hand in thanks, and Rey blinked in surprise when he gave her a kind smile, his rheumy eyes twinkling.

“Thanks, girl,” he whispered gruffly. He slipped a crisp twenty dollar bill into her hand and shooed her over to the bar.

Rey wandered over, shrugging off her coat as she went, hanging it on a nearby coat rack. She took a seat beside the dark stranger and picked up the menu a friendly waitress placed in front of her and poured her a cup of coffee without her even asking.

“Thank you,” Rey murmured to the middle aged woman.

“No problem, Hun. Take your time, we got the full menu,” she said cheerily before she went to see to another customer.

Rey focused on opening sugar packets and the tiny containers of creamer while sneaking glances at the guy beside her. In profile, she could make out distinct, somewhat angular features. A broad nose, a plush looking mouth. The few moles and freckles peppering his pale skin. Rey felt warmth return to her blood. She had never really thought she had a type, but he certainly seemed to check a lot of her boxes.

“You ignore the evacuation order too?” Rey finally asked quietly as she stirred her coffee.

The guy turned his head to look at her, and Rey bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check. His whiskey colored eyes searched her hazel ones, and his sinful looking mouth quirked into a lopsided dimpled smile. She returned his smile with one of her own, putting her hand out. He took it gingerly, giving it a small shake. His hand dwarfed hers, and Rey felt her cold hand pulling the heat from his warm one.

“Rey,” she murmured.

“Ben,” he replied. He had a pleasant voice, one she wanted to never stop listening to. Deep and comforting.

“What’s good here?” she asked, resuming a conversational tone.

Ben shrugged his shoulders. “Just about everything. And yeah, I did, to answer your earlier question.”

Rey hummed as she perused the menu. She figured a place called Waffle House probably had good waffles. Their waitress returned after a few minutes, placing a large plate laden with fried eggs, bacon, toast, and hashbrowns in front of Ben.

“Have you decided, Hun?” she asked Rey kindly.

“I think so. Could I have one egg, over hard, some bacon, and a waffle? Please?” Rey asked timidly. She always felt shy ordering food, like the server would say “no” or something.

The waitress scribbled her order down in her notepad. “Sure thing,” she said with a smile.

Rey watched in envy and fascination as Ben ate. He put a bit of everything between the pieces of toast, eating most of what he could like a sandwich before just shoveling the rest into his mouth.

He wiped his face with his napkin before looking at her again. “Sorry. I’m usually not such a caveman, but I was stranded at my bank. I haven’t eaten since the other night except for some packets of pretzels and peanuts.”

Rey gave him a reassuring smile and placed her hand gently on his arm. He flexed his fingers, and Rey enjoyed feeling his muscles and tendons working beneath her palm.

“It’s okay. I know how it can be,” she said softly.

Ben looked at her quizzically.

“Not having food. Being hungry,” she clarified. “I grew up not knowing where my next meal was coming from, so you know, I get it. Don’t feel embarrassed, or whatever.” She was no longer in that situation, but she remembered it all too well.

“Is that why you sound like a shy kid when you ordered food? Because sometimes people you asked would tell you ‘no?’”

Rey blinked, surprised at his perception.

“I’m a counselor. It’s my job to pick up on these things,” Ben said. A look of worry flashed across his features and Rey smiled, wanting to let him know he hadn’t put her off.

“I guess, yeah, that’s why,” she answered with a laugh.

Rey’s breakfast came shortly after that, and Ben ordered another plate, although he ate it slower this time. She looked over her shoulder at the booth where Unkar sat with his friends, and she smiled seeing that they’d decided to have an impromptu game of poker.

“Who’s that?” Ben asked around a mouthful of bacon and egg.

Rey returned her attention to her waffle, carefully spreading an unnecessary amount of butter and pouring syrup over the golden confection. “My landlord,” she replied as she cut into it. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she took the first bite, enjoying the interplay of flavor and texture. “God, I love waffles.”

Ben laughed. “You guys ignored the order too then, eh?”

Rey nodded and swallowed another large bite of waffle. “He’s a stubborn old guy. Insisted on coming over here as soon as we could. Those are his poker buddies,” she mumbled jerking her head towards the booth.

“Looks like you’re gonna be here awhile,” Ben said casually as shouts of triumph and protest erupted from the booth.

Rey bumped his shoulder playfully. “Want to keep me company?”

Ben bumped her back. “You bet.”

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #fanfiction #meetcute #waffles #breakfast #rated g #waffle house #crack fic?

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the-christian-walk · 4 years ago

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NONSENSE

Can I pray for you in any way?

Send any prayer requests to [email protected] In Christ, Mark

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

** Follow The Christian Walk on Twitter @ThChristianWalk

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scriptures. May God bless the reading of His holy word.

Soon the whole city was in an uproar. The people seized Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul’s traveling companions from Macedonia, and all of them rushed into the theater together. Paul wanted to appear before the crowd, but the disciples would not let him. Even some of the officials of the province, friends of Paul, sent him a message begging him not to venture into the theater.

The assembly was in confusion: Some were shouting one thing, some another. Most of the people did not even know why they were there. The Jews in the crowd pushed Alexander to the front, and they shouted instructions to him. He motioned for silence in order to make a defense before the people. But when they realized he was a Jew, they all shouted in unison for about two hours: “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!”

The city clerk quieted the crowd and said: “Fellow Ephesians, doesn’t all the world know that the city of Ephesus is the guardian of the temple of the great Artemis and of her image, which fell from heaven? Therefore, since these facts are undeniable, you ought to calm down and not do anything rash. You have brought these men here, though they have neither robbed temples nor blasphemed our goddess. If, then, Demetrius and his fellow craftsmen have a grievance against anybody, the courts are open and there are proconsuls. They can press charges. If there is anything further you want to bring up, it must be settled in a legal assembly. As it is, we are in danger of being charged with rioting because of what happened today. In that case we would not be able to account for this commotion, since there is no reason for it.”

After he had said this, he dismissed the assembly.

Acts 19:29-41

This ends today’s reading from God's holy word. Thanks be to God.

Led by a silversmith named Demetrius, the Ephesian craftsmen, who were profiting nicely from everything associated with the goddess Artemis, were up in arms.

The Apostle Paul was winning more and more believers for Jesus Christ and the power of God’s word was spreading like wildfire throughout the city. If enough people turned from worshiping the false Greek gods, many of the tradespeople would find themselves in economic hardship. As we looked at in yesterday’s message, their concerns were totally self centered and money-centric vice goddess-centric.

As we look at the closing verses of Acts 19, we find the entire city of Ephesus stirred up into an uproar which had to be instigated by Demetrius and his group of craftsman. Of interest, they went after two of Paul’s traveling companions from Macedonia instead of Paul himself. This was surely because they knew that there was a special power possessed by Paul, one they definitely wanted to keep on the sidelines. We read where even the province officials asked Paul to stay away from the theater for fear the already caustic environment could end up out of control.

And the scriptures tell us that the people seized “Gaius and Aristarchus” and brought them into the Theater of Ephesus, the largest public arena in the city. The theater’s capacity was around 25,000 so you can get a sense of just how chaotic everything was. It had to be incredibly intimidating and scary for Gaius and Aristarchus who I’m pretty sure were wondering whether they could escape alive.

As for the assembly of Ephesians, there wasn’t much organization for we read where there was mass c as “some were shouting one thing” while others shouted something else. I’m sure they were trying to shout over one another so much that you couldn’t discern what either side was saying. And if that wasn’t crazy enough, some people were present, not even knowing what was going on nor what their role was in the midst of it.

Did I mention the atmosphere was chaotic?

Well, things changed somewhat when the “Jews in the crowd pushed Alexander to the front” while shouting instructions to him. It’s not known exactly who Alexander was. Some believe he was a coppersmith who was mentioned in Paul’s two letters to Timothy but there is no certainty of this. What we do know is that Alexander was a Jew and his fellow Israelites believed he could make a defense to appease the crowd. But as soon as the large Ephesian assembly saw Alexander was a Jews, they shouted him down for about two hours, shouting in unison, “Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!” I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine being in the midst of that. Yes, chaotic.

Finally, we read where the “city clerk quieted the crowd” and said the following:

“Fellow Ephesians, doesn’t all the world know that the city of Ephesus is the guardian of the temple of the great Artemis and of her image, which fell from heaven? Therefore, since these facts are undeniable, you ought to calm down and not do anything rash. You have brought these men here, though they have neither robbed temples nor blasphemed our goddess. If, then, Demetrius and his fellow craftsmen have a grievance against anybody, the courts are open and there are proconsuls. They can press charges. If there is anything further you want to bring up, it must be settled in a legal assembly. As it is, we are in danger of being charged with rioting because of what happened today. In that case we would not be able to account for this commotion, since there is no reason for it.”

And with that, the city clerk dismissed the assembly. Enough was enough. The whole scene was nothing but nonsense. No one was following legal protocols and there was absolutely no evidence that Gaius and Aristarchus had done anything wrong. They hadn’t “robbed temples nor blasphemed” the goddess Artemis. If Demetrius and his band of craftsmen had a grievance with Paul’s traveling companions, they would need to do it properly before a legal counsel. That was definitely not what this assembly was. In fact, the city clerk likened the gathering to a riot, something obviously forbidden in Ephesus unless there was a good reason for it and there wasn’t one in this instance.

And just like that, it was over, just as God intended it to be. Yes, I know the scriptures don’t directly mention God at work here but it’s not really necessary. God is always at work. He never stops. And He certainly will intervene and waylay any nonsense that might get in the way of His purposes being fulfilled. Gaius and Aristarchus had things to do for the Lord in Jesus’ name. The ludicrous, unnecessary, disoriented gathering of Ephesians were getting in the way of God’s work getting done and so He put an end to it and allowed His two servants to return to Paul and the Gospel work that needed done.

Tomorrow, we’ll see what happens next after the day that God stopped the nonsense in Ephesus.

Amen.

In Christ,

Mark

PS: Feel free to leave a comment and please share this with anyone you feel might be blessed by it. Send any prayer requests to [email protected]

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tak4hir0 · 4 years ago

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The open-source Babel JavaScript compiler project is running out of money with big sponsors having pulled out, according to its core team. And its creator yesterday threw a spanner into the works by claiming on Twitter that he believed funds were "misallocated." Babel compiles modern JavaScript (ECMAScript 2015+) into code that runs on older web browsers. It can also compile JSX (syntax used by the React framework) and TypeScript, a typed superset of JavaScript. Using Babel is a huge benefit to developers trying to support multiple browsers on multiple platforms. Its GitHub repository has 39,000 stars and has been forked 4,800 times, showing its popularity. The core team has now said that the project is running out of money, despite sponsorship from Airbnb, Facebook, Salesforce, Gitpod, GatsbyJS, Discord, Elastic, Vercel, and other users. According to the post made this week, the project has been engaged in a "funding experiment" since March 2018, when contributor Henry Zhu left his job to work on securing funding and then to become a full-time paid maintainer. In November 2019, this expanded to support three additional part-time maintainers, Nicolò Ribaudo, Huáng Jùnliàng, and Kai Cataldo. Funding is managed through the Open Collective, which means anyone can see the transactions. Zhu was initially paid $11,000 per month, and, after they joined, the other three received $2,000 per month. Funds to run out at end of 2021 The team now says that funding declined in 2020 "despite the tech industry's growth during this time." Some big sponsors dropped out, and Cataldo had to step down. "We strongly believe that working in open source should be a viable and sustainable career path. We should be bringing everyone up to the same level, not down. However, we need to face the fact that this would mean draining our current balance in just a few months," the team said. The project has decided, despite the decline in funding, to pay all three remaining maintainers "a temporary rate of $6,000 per month." This will be sustainable until the end of 2021, during which time further funding will be sought. "We need at least $333,000 per year, which is 2x what we're currently bringing in," the team said. Funding issues in open source are a longstanding problem affecting many projects. Babel may suffer from being somewhat hidden when it is integrated into other frameworks, such as React, Next.js, Vue, Ember and Angular. According to the team, Babel is downloaded over 117 million times a month. How do you measure productivity? Maintainer's work ethic backed after ill-tempered debate over salaries on Twitter Babel creator Sebastian McKenzie then complicated matters by making some strong allegations on Twitter, which he appears to regret since they were subsequently deleted, claiming Babel's "funds were misallocated for years, and the project has been too slow to improve." McKenzie is no longer part of the Babel core team, and has his own JavaScript tooling project called Rome, which last week raised $4.5m in venture capital funding. With respect to Babel, McKenzie alleged, referencing Zhu, "the reason there's no money is because someone took a $130K annual salary and didn't actually work on the project." He added: "In 2020, Henry created 12 issues, commented 25 times, and created 29 pull requests. This is across all Babel orgs. Sorry but that's DEFINITELY not $132k worth of work. Especially when there are other contributors who are working for free doing much more." McKenzie's take is very much disputed by Ribaudo, who said on Hacker News that "simply looking at GitHub and counting the number of commits for each contributor does *not* tell how much someone is working." A large part of Zhu's work was in publicising and raising funds, Ribaudo explained. "Henry is the one who contacts companies trying to explain to them why they should support us, the one who gives most talks at their internal events: he's the one working on fundraising for the team." There was discussion, Ribaudo said, over the discrepancy in salaries before they were equalised. "Everyone in the team was receptive to my arguments and everyone agreed that we should have reassessed our salaries. The main reason that Henry was earning more was that initially he was the only paid contributor," he said. Evan You, creator of the Vue.js framework which is often used with Babel, said on Twitter: "Working on a project doesn't only mean pushing commits. It also means deciding what to do, syncing with committees, running a team structure, thinking about how and where to get funding, and handling the mental pressure of 'I'm responsible for this'." He defended Zhu's record, asking: "Is 130k a lot for someone who keeps Babel, which is used by millions of devs, which effectively served as the testing ground for ES next proposals, afloat? Heck I'd say that's even too little." He also noted that Zhu was willing to take a pay cut "because given current funding situation, that's the only way to keep the project going." Zhu himself said in a podcast last year that "slowly over time I realized stuff that I liked doing even if I'm not good at it is trying to deal with more of the people stuff. The community-oriented stuff. And I think that's been good for the project." He added: "I do see myself as more of a maintainer than a creator. I'm not sure if I would want to be a creator. I think I like being a maintainer of other people's code." Babel is a highly valued project, but the situation is messy and about management and governance as much as funding itself, and another example of the sustainability problem in open source. The Register yesterday morning asked Zhu to comment. ®

#The Register

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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On Sports and SPACs A sporting chance Professional athletes can sell almost anything, from soda to sneakers to car insurance. But lately they’ve used their star power to sell SPACs, the blank-check acquisition vehicles that have raised more than $90 billion this year. Amid frenzied competition for merger deals, about a fifth of SPACs launched since last year have brought athletes on board in hopes of standing out when pitching to start-ups they hope to take public, Matthew Goldstein and DealBook’s Lauren Hirsch report. Alex Rodriguez is one of the highest-profile athletes in the SPAC business, and he stands out because unlike many of his peers merely adding their names to someone else’s SPAC, he founded his own. Slam Corp, established by the former baseball slugger and the hedge fund manager Himanshu Gulati, has met with more than 70 potential targets since it raised $500 million in a February I.P.O. Mr. Rodriguez could sit on the board of whatever company it acquires. He and his business partner spoke with Lauren about their plans — below are exclusive excerpts from their conversation. On running a public company … Mr. Rodriguez formed the investment firm A-Rod Corp in 1996, but a listed company brings a new set of responsibilities. Is he ready? “I think you do it collectively, you do it with the team,” said Mr. Rodriguez, pointing to his frequent communication with Mr. Gulati. And when it comes to understanding the fiduciary duties involved, he said that his long career at the Yankees brought him experience at “the ultimate public company,” where the shareholders, so to speak, were the outspoken fans of the storied franchise. On the ups and downs of investing … Last year, Mr. Rodriguez’s $1.7 billion bid for the Mets lost out to Steve Cohen’s $2.4 billion offer. “The silver lining for me is the trust that people put on us, and that doesn’t go to waste just because you didn’t win,” Mr. Rodriguez said, referring to himself and the pop star Jennifer Lopez, who joined him on the bid. “I think that’s something that brings tremendous credibility.” On the S.E.C.’s warning about SPACs pitched by celebrities … The U.S. securities regulator recently told investors not to buy shares of a SPAC simply because boldface names are attached to it. Many SPACs bring celebrities on as directors or advisers, Mr. Gulati said, and “they’re just there to kind of help them raise capital.” At Slam Corp, he said, “Alex is the C.E.O. — what he’s done at A-Rod Corp should not be understated.” “I just want to stand up for the athlete community, because there’s so many smart young men and women. I would be lucky to have them as partners,” Mr. Rodriguez said. “We have a reach, and it’s not just domestic, it’s global,” he said, in reference to himself and Ms. Lopez. HERE’S WHAT’S HAPPENING WeWork is going public via a SPAC. The office sharing company agreed to a deal with the blank-check company BowX Acquisition that values WeWork at $9 billion. That’s less than a quarter of its valuation in 2019. The venture firm behind the SPAC counts Shaquille O’Neal as an adviser. It may take weeks to unblock the Suez Canal. Salvagers are struggling to free the container ship that has been wedged in the vital waterway since Tuesday, creating a huge, costly traffic jam that exposes the world economy’s reliance on just-in-time supply chains. Lawmakers get few direct answers when grilling tech C.E.O.s. At the five-hour hearing on disinformation, Twitter’s Jack Dorsey acknowledged that his platform bore some responsibility for the Jan. 6 Capitol riot, while Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg and Google’s Sundar Pichai disagreed on whether regulatory changes were needed. Lawmakers were unimpressed: “There’s a lot of smugness among you,” said one. Chinese consumers boycott several foreign brands. H&M, Nike, Adidas and others face retaliation from shoppers — egged on by the Communist Party — after they joined calls to avoid using cotton produced in the Xinjiang region, where Beijing has waged a repression campaign against ethnic minorities. Shares in Chinese apparel brands with ties to Xinjiang have rallied. Banks can resume buybacks and raise dividends this summer. After the Fed’s next round of stress tests ends in June, most institutions will be allowed to resume share repurchases and increase dividends that were frozen during the pandemic, assuming they have sufficient capital. A TV debut (on the public markets) Over its nearly 20-year history, Vizio has become one of the biggest names in flat-screen TVs. But as it began life as a publicly listed company yesterday, its founder and C.E.O., William Wang, was eager to convince investors that its biggest business is in streaming on its smart TVs. Lockdowns were good for Vizio. With people stuck at home and movie theaters closed, TVs have been in high demand: The company shipped 7.1 million units last year, up 20 percent from 2019. More important from Vizio’s perspective, it saw a 60 percent increase in accounts for SmartCast, its platform for connecting to streaming services like Apple+ and Netflix. “I think the biggest impact of the pandemic is forcing people to look at home entertainment again,” Mr. Wang told DealBook. Why streaming is important for the company. TVs are a low-margin commodity, particularly as prices continue to fall. But Vizio is betting that its popularity — it is the second-biggest TV brand in North America by market share — can help it tap into the boom in online video services. SmartCast made up 7 percent of the company’s revenue last year, reaching 12.2 million accounts. Becoming a smart-TV player has been challenging. In 2017, Vizio paid $2.2 million to settle charges that it collected and sold users’ data without their knowledge or consent. It doesn’t offer every streaming service — it’s missing HBO Max, for example — and faces competition from Roku, Apple TV and other smart TV makers. The time was right for an I.P.O. Vizio tried to go public in 2015, but called it off after agreeing to sell itself to a Chinese rival (only for that deal to fall apart). Now that it makes money from both TV sales and streaming, Mr. Wang said, Vizio is more attractive to public-market investors. That said, the I.P.O. priced at the low end of its expected range, and fell 9 percent in the first day of trading. The C.E.O. put a positive spin on it: “We’re probably the leader in the space in consumer electronics. I believe sooner or later people will appreciate that.” In the papers Some of the academic research that caught our eye this week, summarized in one sentence: Weekend reading: How can I help you? A few years ago, Susan McPherson, the founder of the P.R. firm McPherson Strategies, identified a growing problem. Technology was helping more people connect, yet the ties seemed superficial: Instead of seeking meaningful bonds, people appeared to be transacting, simply trading likes and follows. As a “serial connector” since before the internet, she decided to write “The Lost Art of Connecting: The Gather, Ask, Do Method for Building Meaningful Business Relationships,” which was published by McGraw-Hill Education this week. Ms. McPherson spoke to DealBook about making connections during a pandemic that has physically estranged so many. The interview has been edited and condensed for clarity. DealBook: Has your view of technology changed? Ms. McPherson: The past year helped us all understand how much we miss human connection when we don’t have it. Some days I‘ve showed up at a team meeting and a part of me just felt like crying. So I’ve learned to expose more of that vulnerability and how to be more empathetic and compassionate online, which freed up my team, too. Now, I think we can be better stewards of technology and make those deep connections if we’re intentional about it. Do you still see a problem with quantifying social networks? If we’re using the numbers to measure our value but we’re not having deep, meaningful relationships then we don’t get the real benefits. There is data in my book that shows deep ties help people live longer and be more professionally successful. Introverts will be happy to know that it isn’t about quantity — it’s about the quality of ties. And for businesses, connectedness fosters productivity. How do people truly connect if they’re still physically apart? Be direct. Be intentional. Don’t think of what you’ll get. Just offer help. Indirectness is time-consuming. We’re in a state of collective grief after this difficult year. There’s no time to waste. Reach out and ask, “How can I help?” Take time to listen and follow through on what you say you’ll do. Dependability and trustworthiness are critical to meaningful connection. Don’t assume that you don’t have anything to offer someone, whoever they are, at your company or beyond. THE SPEED READ Deals Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp bought Investor’s Business Daily for $275 million, a return to acquisitions after years of sales and streamlining. (NYT) Britain’s competition watchdog is worried about the “supply of GIFs” after Facebook’s acquisition of the animated-image site Giphy. (Reuters) Are the bond vigilantes back? (NYT) Politics and policy The S.E.C. has opened an inquiry into the SPAC craze, asking underwriters about their risk-management processes. (Reuters) Georgia Republicans passed sweeping voting restrictions, drawing the ire of President Biden. (NYT) The Supreme Court made it easier for consumers to sue companies, ruling that it doesn’t matter if a manufacturer has a substantial presence in the state where an injury happened. (NYT) Tech The crypto token linked to a Times column sold at auction for $560,000, with the proceeds going to charity. (NYT) A labor board said Tesla illegally fired a worker involved in union organizing and ordered Elon Musk to delete a threatening tweet. (NYT) Best of the rest “Using Shame, Lending Apps in India Squeeze Billions Out of the Desperate” (NYT) The actress Jessica Walter, who played Lucille Bluth, the martini-swilling matriarch of a dysfunctional business family on “Arrested Development,” died at 80 in Manhattan. (NYT) Will the popularity of five-star meal kits from fine-dining establishments persist after the pandemic? (Bloomberg Opinion) We’d like your feedback! Please email thoughts and suggestions to [email protected]. Source link Orbem News #SPACs #sports

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