#Madison Event Hall

[newssocialite]

Кевин Маккой стал хедлайнером премии «Товар года 2024»

Национальная премия «Товар года 2024» прошла в Москве в Madison Event Hall. Хедлайнером церемонии стал Кевин Маккой, солист легендарной группы BAD BOYS BLUE, который исполнил свои хиты на русском языке. Ведущими вечера выступили Настя Негода и Никита Камбаров. Открыли церемонию вокалистки арт-проекта Opera Drive, исполнив мировые хиты в классическом оперном стиле. Также для лауреатов выступили…

[sophs-style]

The Hall Of Fame Induction Celebration for Dwyane Wade was held at the Chateau Marmont on Sunday (6th August 2023) in Hollywood, California.

Gabrielle Union-Wade (wearing Coperni) and Dwyane Wade, Karrueche Tran (wearing David Koma), Madison Bailey (wearing Coperni), Shanina Shaik (wearing David Koma), Chloe Bailey, Ming Lee Simmons and Kimora Lee Simmons, Chelsea Lazkani, Rocky Barnes, Eva Marcille and Coco Jones.

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

it’s hell on earth to be heavenly

pairing: security guard!Frankie x band leader!fem!reader

rating: E for Explicit

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ content, reader has no physical description besides female anatomy and clothing, Frankie is able to lift reader, aggressive music festival crowds, mental health scare, Frankie is our pussy eating king, unprotected piv sex, creampie

a/n: my contribution to the Summer Lovin' challenge hosted by @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery, and @amanitacowboy!! i'm so excited to share this one, the story came to me immediately when i got the moodboard. i'm a huge concert girlie so i may have nerded out just a bit 😅 anyway, happy Frankie Friday, enjoy some filth 😘

You knew your lives were about to change the moment the festival was confirmed. You just weren’t prepared for how much.

The band had solidified by the end of your first year of college. You met Madison, the bassist, in your orientation group the week before classes began. She learned how to play in high school out of spite when an ex-boyfriend made a comment about how “girl bassists aren’t real” – her major was in English Lit. Tyler, the rhythm guitarist, was your biology lab partner in the second semester. He was a couple years older, already in his third year and still undecided on his major but like any other former teenage wannabe-fuckboi, he only learned how to play guitar as a party trick to pick up girls. Over Spring Break, he threw a party at the apartment he shared with his sister, Kate, who’d decided not to take the college route despite being the same age as you and Madison. You learned that she was on the drumline in her high school’s marching band, so you didn’t hesitate to snatch her up and round out the group as your drummer.

You had a bit more classical background. Your mom had put you in piano lessons almost as soon as you were tall enough to reach the keys. She tacked on voice lessons when you were in middle school. By the time you were 12, you had your heart set on being a composer and performing at concert halls around the country. Your uncle was the one to teach you how to play guitar; he had a side gig at a local sports bar playing crowd-requested covers and pulled some strings to book the restaurant for your 16th birthday. You were mesmerized by the way everyone would join in and sing along, would-be strangers bound by nothing but an invisible string of words and chords. You ached to know that feeling and suddenly your path was even clearer than before.

The four of you hadn’t intended to form a band. Your bond as friends came first, the music just came from goofing off at a frat party and earning some cheers from drunk bystanders. From there, you did campus events and open-mic nights at dive bars, all just for fun and a little extra pocket money. You even played a wedding for your roommate’s cousin. Your first original song was a by-product of a final poetry assignment for one of Madison’s classes. The four of you recorded yourselves, put it up on YouTube, and it went viral within 24 hours. So you spent that summer just writing music. Pooling together your money allowed you to rent out the campus music department’s recording studio and your first EP was born.

That’s also where you met Frankie.

He had just taken a job as overnight campus security, and it was his first graveyard shift. It had been expectedly uneventful, sweeping through each building and making sure they were empty. Until one wasn’t as empty as it was supposed to be.

He saw the light at the end of the hallway and his Army training kicked in. Soft, slow steps carried him to the occupied practice room. There you sat at the piano, plunking out experimental chords and scratching out notations on the sheet music in front of you. You were so focused that you didn’t even hear the very audible creak of the door as Frankie pushed his way in. He waited a moment for you to respond, assuming he had just caught you mid-thought but when you still didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat a bit more aggressively than he intended. “Excuse me.”

You jumped and swiveled around the bench. Your eyes were wide and tinged red with fatigue. You’d been there for hours, insistent on getting the song right.

“Miss, this building is closed.”

You blinked, digesting his words. “Right. Sorry, um,” you squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled at the sting of their dryness, “what time is it?”

“Nearly 1am.” Frankie softened, sure you weren’t any threat, but still maintained his authoritative stance. “You’re not supposed to be here. Could I see some ID?”

After digging through your bag and showing him your driver’s license and student badge, the situation cleared itself up pretty quickly. You’d explained what you were doing there and even showed him the official email from the department head giving your band permission to access the building over the summer. This sparked Frankie’s interest and the two of you probably would’ve spent hours talking if it hadn’t already been so late.

Despite your band’s clear potential, you all agreed to finish out your degrees before pursuing the industry for real. While you were afraid of missing your opportunity, having achieved such a bright spotlight so early on, a part of you was grateful. For time. For structure. For Frankie.

The two of you grew close over those last three years of your undergrad. You exchanged numbers with the veiled excuse of being able to contact him if you needed to get in or out of a building late at night. This eventually became if you needed him for anything. And one night at the end of senior year, you needed him bad.

The university had a tradition of throwing an exclusive off-campus party for the seniors the night after final grades were due. Being the only two band members in school, it was just you and Madison. Classic story, she was invited out afterwards by a bunch of other English majors, leaving you with no ride. So you called Frankie, and he pulled up in the parking lot within minutes. Fueled by the sadness of leaving him behind post-graduation and a little bit of alcohol, you seized your moment as soon as he parked behind your dorm building. The two of you showed just how badly you were going to miss each other in the back of his pickup.

--

You’re pulled from your memories by the hotel room door opening. Madison and Kate come spilling in, all dressed for the festival. Kate bangs on the adjoining room door, signaling Tyler to come over, and flops onto the bed opposite from Madison. You do one last look over your hair and makeup and emerge from the bathroom to get dressed.

Madison ooh’s in admiration while Kate whistles. “Okay, baddie.”

You roll your eyes and start to strip. Your concert outfit is laid out across the armchair by the window. “Do you guys wanna go over the set one last time?”

“Yeah, as soon as Tyler gets his ass over here!” Kate raises her voice to be heard in the room next door.

“Is everyone decent?” Tyler’s muffled voice comes from behind the door just as you finish buttoning your jeans.

“Yeah,” you yell back and bunch up your top, pulling it over your head as the door opens. You adjust the hem of the cropped tank and sit on the armrest, and the final band meeting is in session.

Right on time 20 minutes later, there’s another knock on the door. Being the closest, Madison hops up to open it and returns with Frankie in tow. “Y’all ready?”

The four of you share nervous and excited glances and you turn to him. “Fuck yeah.”

You and Frankie had kept in close contact after the band moved to LA in pursuit of a record label. He became your security detail shortly after your first tour as an opening act two years ago, fitting into the position perfectly with his military background. You’ve never run into any real issues, still being a relatively obscure group, but you were certainly on the rise.

This music festival was proof. The first single from your second album had just dropped when you got the call: opening the third largest stage on the first day of the event. You were billed third on the promotional fliers. For a band so comparatively unknown, this opportunity would either make or break you.

Frankie drops you off backstage for soundcheck exactly on time. You’re all immediately swarmed by operators and technicians and Frankie disappears off to the sidelines. He listens intently as you all tune your instruments and warm up your fingers and voices. He even catches himself humming along as you play bits and pieces of your setlist to confirm everything is in order.

Frankie’s attention is yanked away by the growing sound of the crowd in front of the stage. The four of you catch on to it as well, Madison and Tyler giddy with excitement and Kate twirling her drumsticks to ground herself. Frankie watches as you fiddle with your hair for the hundredth time, tapping your guitar pick against your thigh. Squeezed perfectly into those jeans you know he loves. Cupping the roundness of your ass just right. The hem of your tank top ends just high enough to give a peek at your midsection that he knows will be on full display once you settle into yourself and start jumping around the stage.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you’re right in front of him. You laugh when he still gets flustered at being caught, despite being a confirmed couple ever since he joined your team. You hook your fingers into his belt loops and tug him closer, careful to maneuver around the instrument strung across your front.

Frankie tucks a stray hair behind your ear, brushing your cheek with his knuckle as he does. “You ready, rockstar?”

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

On cue, a voice crackles in your in-ear monitor calling everyone to places. Frankie cups your face, pulling you in for a confident kiss. You flash him a wink as you pull away and line up to climb the stage.

Frankie finds a vantage point off to the side of the crowd, their cries echoing across the fairgrounds as you strike the first chords. He knows your pattern: you’ll linger behind the mic stand for the first song and a half or so, only venturing out to interact with Madison and Tyler during the instrumental breaks. Finally, you’ll walk out to the edge of the stage, playing directly to the fans but just out of their reach. By the third song, you’ve got the microphone in your hand and you’re frolicking around the stage unburdened.

He holds his breath as you approach one particular guitar solo that challenges your playing ability, then cheers along as you nail it with a dazzling smile, the crowd going wild at your fingertips.

The air is hazy with smoke as your set comes to a close, both from the festivalgoers and the machines blowing onto the stage. Tyler, Madison, and Kate play an extended outro of your last song as you address the crowd, thanking them for watching and introducing the band one last time before ending with a final flourish of chords and drumrolls. Frankie makes his way backstage once more as you take your bows, picking up your setlists taped to the stage and tossing them into the crowd as souvenirs. He watches the other three descend the stairs as you blow one last kiss to the fans and follow behind. The area springs to life as the workers hustle to prepare for the next band. Once unburdened from your instruments and in-ear monitors, the four of you flock to Frankie, as practiced. You surge ahead slightly faster than the others to fling your arms around his neck and plant an ecstatic kiss on his cheek, right in the bare patch of his beard, breathing him in as you ride your high from performing. Frankie sets you down and shares a smile and laugh before switching back to business and the five of you come up with a gameplan for the rest of the day.

Everything goes smoothly right up until the end. You all stick together for the most part, migrating to different stages together but not too worried about being attached at the hip. Unlike you and Frankie. You know he prefers to linger behind where he can see everyone and you have no problem staying with him. Every once in a while, people will recognize you and get a group photo.

Frankie should’ve never let you go off alone. He got complacent. Sloppy. Even though you weren’t entirely alone, Kate and Madison accompanying you to the bar booth, Frankie can’t help but feel like he failed you.

He thought he had you in view enough. He and Tyler were talking but it shouldn’t have been enough to pull his attention completely. It’s only when Kate’s yell breaks through the back of the crowd in front of them that they realize the situation. The two of them launch forward, Tyler throwing his arm around his sister and Frankie shouldering through the mass of people, his deep voice and broad stature parting the way.

He finds you towards the center. The three of you had been on the way back with your drinks when a group of overly excited and intoxicated fans crowded you. Their volume attracted the attention of other attendees around and pulled them in, everyone suddenly scrambling for pictures and autographs. Being the lead guitarist and vocalist, you were slammed with the brunt of the energy, Madison losing her grip on your arm and Kate being pushed out to the back entirely, where she managed to call Tyler and Frankie.

When he finally reaches you, Frankie doesn’t hesitate to throw his arm around you and secure you against his body, shielding you from any more prying fingers. He quickly scans and spots Madison not far off, veering to her rescue as well. He tucks her under his other arm and rushes back towards Tyler and Kate. Frankie passes Madison off to them as he feels you slipping from his grasp and fully lifts you into his arms, ensuring no one can take you from him. You just bury your face in his neck, gripping his black t-shirt for dear life, and let him carry you away.

Festival security arrives as your group emerges from the crowd and escorts all of you to the security tent. You detach from Frankie briefly so that the on-site medic can check for injuries, but you resume your position in his lap as soon as you’re given the all-clear.

The drive back to the hotel is a blur. You know Tyler takes over as driver so that Frankie can sit with you. He holds your hand the entire way up to your rooms and only lets go to unlock the door to yours. Kate, Madison, and Tyler collectively decide to hide out in the adjoining room to give you time to recover.

You feel yourself coming down from the adrenaline, the chaos starting to settle in your mind. You go through the motions of your post-show ritual. Take your clothes off. Gather your pajamas. Pull your hair back. Take your makeup off. Shower. Bedtime.

Frankie monitors from the corner by the door, watching with a tightly creased brow that he’s definitely going to get a headache from later. You don’t acknowledge him as you move around the room on autopilot. He does his best to stay out of sight of the bathroom mirror as you scrub your makeup off with a wipe.

You open your eyes as Frankie slips back around the corner, caught in the reflection. “I can still see you, you know?” you mutter. You toss the makeup wipe in the trash and splash some water on your face.

You hear him sigh as he gingerly steps back into view, staying half hidden by the edge of the mirror. His eyes are full of guilt and concern, and you feel bad for snapping at him. “I know.” He leans against the wall, face angled down and away from you as he takes off his trademark cap, runs his fingers through his curls, and replaces the cap on his head. “I don’t mean to hover, I know you need your space. I just…” He pauses to take a shaky breath. “What happened was really scary. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

You massage your face wash into your skin as you listen, letting it set for a minute before rinsing it off. “I’m fine. Promise.”

It all happens so fast. You hear the girls gasp, not unlike others had throughout the day. You’re more than happy to interact with them, just grateful to even be at the festival and be recognized by fans in the first place. Their squeals grate your ears as more people gather around. You’re suddenly blinded by a phone flashlight being shoved in your face and Madison’s hand leaves your elbow, her fingernails scratching slightly as she tries to hold on. You can hear her calling your name and Kate’s as the three of you are separated by pressing bodies. The roar is suffocating as you’re bombarded with phones and pens and papers and hands everywhere, screams everywhere, you can’t see, you can’t hear, you can't –

“Hey.” Frankie’s voice snaps you back into your body as you stare back at your reflection, tight and sticky as your face wash dries. You sniffle, shaking your head a little to loosen the memory’s grip, and bend down into the sink to rinse your face.

“I gotta shower, Frankie.” You turn and twist the knob in the shower, holding a hand under the spray until it reaches your preferred temperature. When you move to close the door and undress, Frankie is still there watching. Not just watching – observing. Taking in every minute detail and analyzing to determine the best approach. You start to slowly push the door closed, never breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. Just before the wood makes contact with his foot in the doorway, Frankie nods.

“Call if you need anything.” He disappears around the corner, and you hear his tired grunt as he sits in the armchair.

You try not to think. Try to focus on the steps. Shampoo. Lather. Rinse. Conditioner. Rinse. Feel the scratch of the washcloth on your skin. The burn of the hot water as it washes away any evidence of the madness.

But then it’s too hot, like the air as they all crushed you. It’s too scratchy, like their fingernails as they all tried to tear away pieces of you to keep as souvenirs. You’re blinded by soap in your eyes and you see spots that look too much like the endless sea of faces. You can’t see, you can’t breathe, and all you want is Frankie. Frankie can help. Frankie will save you.

Strong arms wrap around you and you snap, pushing and screaming and clawing to get away. You’re lifted out of the shower and collapse onto the cold tile, a familiar body under you.

“Alright, baby, I got you. It’s okay, just let it out.”

You let out a final cry of defeat and go limp in Frankie’s arms, letting him fill your senses. His smell, dirt and sweat and smoke with a hint of his cologne still underneath. His lips in your hair, the scratch of his beard against your temple. His chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as he holds you in his lap, a warm hand encompassing your thigh and the other tracing feather-light circles on your bicep.

“How did you know?” you manage to choke out in between gasps, fighting to fill your lungs.

“You called me.”

“I did?”

Frankie just nods and sits with you in silence, the static of the running water underscoring the stillness. He doesn’t care that his clothes are now soaked from plucking you straight from the shower. He didn’t think when he heard your choking, he just acted. Like he should’ve done before.

You’re starting to regain control over your breathing when you feel Frankie’s chest stutter. You look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaking his face.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching up to swipe them away. “I’m okay, Frankie. I’m okay now. You’re here-”

“But I wasn’t then.” He fights to keep his voice level as his heart threatens to force its way up his throat. “I was supposed to protect you and I didn’t- I-I couldn’t-”

You trace his lips with your fingertips, interrupting his words as you calm him with a hush. “This was not your fault, Frankie. It all just happened so fast, it could’ve happened to anyone.”

“But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to you.” Frankie’s voice has an edge to it now. Angry. “I failed you.”

You twist in his arms, moving to straddle his thighs. Cupping his jaw with both hands, forcing him to look at you, “You have never failed me.” Then, you press your lips to his and it feels like your first breath of fresh air through the smoke.

Frankie reacts immediately. His lips move against yours, hungry, as his hands pull you closer. He needs to know you’re there in his arms and no one will ever rip you away from him.

A shiver runs down your spine and you’re not sure if it’s the contrast of his heat and the cold bathroom floor, or the way his tongue expertly works its way into your mouth, exploring and claiming. You grind down against his hardening length and he detaches your lips, arms tightening to support you.

Frankie shifts and rises from the floor, never once letting you out of his grip as he moves into the bedroom. He groans as you nip at his neck, crawling up the bed with you clinging to his front.

You feel the cool sheets press against your damp bare back and you gasp. Frankie immediately flips the two of you over so you’re on top. His eyes are wild, scanning your face for any hint of distress. You nod, letting him know you’re okay, and slowly slip his cap off his head, dropping it to the floor and clutching fistfuls of his curls with both hands. Frankie moans in relief and turns his head to pepper your inner forearm with kisses.

His mouth works up your arm to your shoulder, across your collarbone. He pauses to nip at your pulse point and fill his lungs with your fresh scent and you rake your nails down his neck to his chest, then his belly. You tug his t-shirt up, forcing him to break contact to pull it over his head.

As soon as it’s off, Frankie scoots forward slightly down the bed and lays back, his curls splayed out on the pillow as he shifts into position. Once settled, he cups the backs of your thighs, nudging you forward. He turns his head to nip at your soft skin as you nestle your knees on the pillow, caging his head between them.

He gazes up at you, a haze growing in his eyes. Stroking your leg with one hand, he traces his fingers up the other before reaching your dripping center. He cups your core in his palm, heat surging through your veins, then travels down. Fingers forming a V, he spreads your lips and a growl vibrates through his body, resonating through you as well.

Your head falls back with a moan and you grip the headboard with both hands. “Fuck, please, Frankie.”

He continues tracing your folds with his calloused fingertips, catching at your leaking entrance. “Please what, baby?”

 You look down to see him staring up at you, pupils blown with desire. “Taste me.”

The hand on your thigh slides up to your hip and Frankie practically shoves you down onto his eager mouth. Your head falls back once more and you lace your fingers through his hair, your other hand still gripping the headboard for dear life.

Frankie’s thumb plays with your clit with practiced precision as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. You lose yourself in the sensation of his digit applying just the right amount of pressure while he eats away at you like it’s his last meal, the scratch of his beard as his jaw works supplying extra friction against your thighs.

You gasp when Frankie finally plunges his tongue into your hole, twisting and sucking down your sweet juices. You can’t help but move your hips in tandem with his strokes and your moans rise in pitch whenever the tip of his nose brushes your bundle of nerves. Frankie removes his thumb, cupping your cheeks with both hands and pulling them apart. You bite back a squeal as his tongue ventures back to your asshole and prods at the tight ring.

He retreats before exploring any further, thirsty again for your arousal. You’re fully riding his tongue as your pleasure reaches its peak. You look down at him between your thighs and find his eyes wide open, drinking in your euphoria, like he’s intent on never letting you out of his sight again. His piercing stare is enough to send you over the edge and you lose your grip on the headboard. Searching blindly for a hold as your back arches, Frankie reaches for your arm, fingers wrapping around your elbow and holding you down on his face. His groans ripple through you, prolonging your high, as his hips rut up into the air, begging for relief.

Frankie releases you as you come down from your orgasm, immediately sliding down his body, placing kisses along his skin until you reach his jeans. Your hands shake as you rush to unbutton them and pull down the zipper. He lifts and shimmies his hips to help you yank them down his thighs, flinging them behind you without looking.

You lean forward to kiss along the waistband of his boxers, licking and nipping at the skin and nuzzling your nose in the coarse hairs trailing below the undergarment. Frankie’s hips buck and he almost whines as he grabs at you. You finally free his cock from the tightening fabric, mouth watering as if in a Pavlovian response. He’s thick and heavy, twitching from the lack of contact. You move to take his leaking head into your mouth as he took you into his, but Frankie’s hands are too fast, too desperate.

He sits up and positions you above his lap, fingers massaging your hips as you grind your still dripping pussy along his length. “So wet for me, baby. I need to be inside you. Please,” he pants in your ear. He’s been apart from you for too long already. He needs to be close, as close as possible.

You nod and breathe out an “okay” and Frankie shifts up the bed to rest his back against the headboard. You lift up and reach behind you to grip his cock, taking a moment to massage his balls. Frankie lets out a strained moan and you guide him inside you, sinking down onto him.

You breathe deep and controlled as his tip parts your walls, practically sucking him in. You pause when your pelvises meet, his hair tickling your clit deliciously. He’s buried deep in your cunt, perfectly molded around him, warm and wet. Frankie mouths at your neck, leaving his mark, and massages your breasts with both hands as he gives you time to adjust. He rolls your nipples in his fingers and you clench around him, signaling that you’re ready.

You start slow, rocking your hips against his and feeling his tip nudge that perfect spot inside you. You start a slow pace, rising off his cock and dropping down. Inch by inch until only his tip is inside, then you speed up. Before long, you’re bouncing in Frankie’s lap with his hands on your hips guiding you. He loves to watch the way your tits move with each impact. Hypnotized, he leans forward and captures a nipple in his mouth, circling it with his tongue. You cry out unrestrained as he lightly bites down and your second orgasm of the night washes over you.

Frankie detaches when he feels your walls clamp down on him. He leans back and bends his knees, planting his feet on the bed. Grasping your arms as he did earlier, he braces you and begins thrusting at a fierce pace. You cry out again as his hips slam up into you, the clapping of skin on skin and his throaty groans filling the room.

You know he’s getting close by the way the veins in his neck pop with exertion. Frankie sucks air in through his teeth and drops one hand down to your clit, your freed hand flying down to latch onto his meaty stomach. Frankie chokes out a moan at the prick of your fingernails. “Come on. Come on, baby. One more. You can do it, give me one more.”

You mindlessly chant prayers of “yes” and “please” at the altar of his hips as you gush around him, soaking his cock and leaking out across his thighs and onto the bed.

“That’s it. Good fucking girl. That- fuck, that’s-” A subdued roar erupts from Frankie’s chest as he pulses inside you, coating your greedy walls with rope after rope of cum. The sensation triggers you to squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s worth.

Frankie sits up and slides his hands up your back, gripping your shoulders from behind and locking you onto him. You seal your lips on his as your shared aftershocks subside.

Still holding you to him, Frankie leans back to rest against the headboard. He rubs your back with his palm as you both breathe heavily, heartbeats syncing and slowing.

“Frankie?” You murmur against his chest, peeking up through fluttering, sated eyelids. He looks down at you, humming in acknowledgement. “Tonight was not your fault.”

Frankie breaks eye contact, sighing and staring out at the hotel room. You reach up and pull his face back down to you.

“Don’t run away from me. Look at me.” You kiss him deeply again, then whisper against his lips. “I love you. I trust you. I-”

“I got you.”

You laugh softly. “You got me. But I got you too.”

The two of you stay curled into each other for a while. You’re just about to drift off when a knock on the adjoining room door startles you awake.

Frankie feels you jerk and squeezes his arms around you. “Yeah?” he calls.

Kate responds from the other side. “Hate to interrupt you guys but…can Mads and I just come grab our stuff real quick and we can camp out over here tonight?”

You bury your face in Frankie’s chest, still plugged with his cock and his cum, and chuckle. You move to get up and make yourself decent but Frankie keeps holding you. Raising an eyebrow at him, he flashes a mischievous smirk, untucks the sheets with one hand, and covers the two of you with a flourish.

“Make it quick!”

Kate and Madison fly through the room, grabbing their clothes and toiletries while dramatically shielding their eyes from you and Frankie. You can’t help but giggle against Frankie’s skin as you listen to their flurry of activity. Finally, you hear one of them exit the room and Kate calls from the bathroom.

“You guys know you left the shower running?”

[burntsaltsblog]

shiny new toy

(felix catton\reader)

chapter five

details: a saltburn inspired short story.

content warning: profanity, explicit sexual content, and mentions of abuse (physical and mental)

warning for this chapter: this chapter depicts explicit sexual content. if you are not an adult, DO NOT READ!!!

MNI 18+

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　

"I heard he fucked his cousin."

Everyone collectively groaned as Felix reached up to cover my ears with his hands. I playfully batted them away as I giggled at his protectiveness. 

"Farleigh, I will pay you to stop talking," Felix said as he gave up on prohibiting my hearing. He wrapped a possessive arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and tucking me into his side like I was before Farleigh spewed such ridiculous information. 

"That can be arranged," Farleigh replied. "Though, you should know I will only accept payment in diamonds and gold bars. But that shouldn't be too difficult for you." An impish smile was painted on his face, which glowed under the sun that graciously shone down on us. We had gathered at a table on the quad during a brief break between classes. 

Felix rolled his eyes as his fingers lightly traced my arm, raising goosebumps under my shirt. I snuggled closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, feeling content. 

Life had been good. I hadn't seen Eric since he attacked me a month ago, and a couple of days after the gruesome event, he was kicked out of school for possessing multiple "illegal substances." I had a feeling Felix had something to do with that. Usually, my moral compass would cause me to feel poorly about someone being falsely accused of something. But I didn't care how Felix got rid of Eric in this case. I was just glad he was gone. 

"Mum has a fat ruby that she keeps locked up at home that I think you'd quite like, but knowing you, you'll shove it up your arse at one of your orgies," Venetia snickered.  

"Wait, you have orgies?" I asked, joining the conversation. "That oddly makes sense." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" Farleigh shot back, turning his attention on me with a sharp raise of his sculpted brow.

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Venetia and I exchanged glances before we burst out laughing. Farleigh tried to retain a sour expression, but I didn't miss how his mouth curled up on one side, showing his true feelings. I stole a quick look at Felix and saw him chuckling. He was relieved to see me getting along with his sister and cousin. It had taken some time, but I was finally accepted into the group, and I could hardly contain my joy. For the first time, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. 

"Shit," Venetia cursed harshly, wiping away the happy haze that had surrounded our small group. "I'm late for my next tutorial. I don't know why I signed up for History of the Theatre. I don't give a fuck about the theatre." 

"Is it on Madison Road?" Farleigh asked.

"Yup. I'm going to ruin my new Dior shoes walking over there," she whined.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Daddy will buy you a new pair," Farleigh muttered. "Anyways, I have a class over there later this afternoon, so I'll walk with you. That way, you won't have to face the death of your shoes alone." 

"You're too kind, cousin." 

After gathering their belongings, they stood in unison and bid us farewell, immediately falling in step together as they departed. Like always, their heads gravitated towards each other, almost touching as they prattled back and forth about various topics, such as a classmate caught wearing a dreadful array of clothing or the latest scandal involving two teachers hooking up in an empty lecture hall. Felix and I watched them cross the grassy quad before they took a sharp turn behind a building, rendering them impossible to see.  

"I'm glad you all are getting along. I was worried for a bit that they wouldn't come around. Especially Farleigh," Felix said quietly. 

I peered at the crease between his brows and placed a finger there, attempting to smooth the lines and ease the tension on his ethereal face. 

"I know me too. But it seems my irresistible charm finally won them over."

Felix smiled, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He then grasped my chin in his hand, bringing my mouth to meet his in a tender kiss. I sighed happily against his lips before I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening our embrace. Using my teeth, I dragged his bottom lip out, and a deep moan spilled from Felix's throat.

"Fuck," he whimpered. The sound shot straight to my core, and I gazed around quickly before I stood, pulling my boyfriend with me. 

"Come with me," I said, lacing our fingers together. 

"Where are we going?" he questioned skeptically, sensing I had something mischievous up my sleeve. 

"You'll see," I grinned as I quickly walked to a clump of trees in the far corner of the quad with Felix in tow. It was void of any classmates, and my blood surged with anticipation. The trees were arranged in a particular fashion that would prohibit anyone from breaching our privacy if we huddled behind them. 

I had been eyeing this spot for weeks and was waiting for the opportunity to bring Felix here. He had let it slip a while back that he occasionally liked to mess around in semi-public spots. But he had made it clear that he wanted to respect my limits and not force me into anything I was uncomfortable with. Since then, I have been searching for the ideal place that was considered public but not so out in the open that we still had an essence of seclusion.

Felix and I reached the group of trees, and I immediately pushed him up against the bark of one and rose onto my tiptoes, brandishing his lips with a searing kiss. He reacted just as I had hoped and wrapped his arms around my waist before greedily palming my ass. I could already feel him hardening against my stomach, and I pulled away, licking my lips. I gazed up at him wide-eyed as I sank to my knees. 

I watched his pupils dilate before he glanced around to ensure we were hidden from any passerby's view. "Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

I kept my eyes locked with Felix's as I slowly pulled down the zipper of his jeans and ran my fingers along the waistband of his boxers. "I'm sure. I want to make you feel good. Can I do that, Daddy? Please?"

Felix swallowed as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Ok, darling. Show me those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

I didn't bother to conceal my smirk as I slipped my hand into his boxers and wrapped my hand around his hard length. I never doubted my ability to convince him of this escapade. 

As I eased Felix's shaft from the confinement of his boxers, his head fell back against the tree, and I watched in wonder at the sharp line of his jaw and the smooth skin that encompassed his throat. He breathed deeply as I slowly licked from the base of his length to his swollen, red tip that was already leaking pre-cum. My mouth watered at the sight, and I eagerly swirled it around with my tongue before swallowing. 

"Jesus Christ. You're going to be the death of me," Felix gasped as he ran his fingers through my hair, creating a makeshift ponytail, urging me to take him in my mouth. 

"I can't think of worse ways to die."

My smile was wicked before I closed my lips around his tip and sucked, earning a moan from the man above me. One of his hands came to rest on the side of my jaw, and I took that as my cue to ease more of his length into my mouth. 

"That's it, sweetheart. Take my cock like the little whore you are."

I groaned around him, which caused my throat to vibrate in the most glorious way for Felix. With both hands back in my hair, he tugged me forward so his length began descending down my throat. As a natural reaction, I started choking, and my eyes watered, making my vision of Felix blur, and I whined softly. 

"I know, darling. Your throat is so full of me, but you'll be a good girl and take it because you want to please me."

Tears ran down my face, and I knew my mascara was surely smudged around my eyes, which Felix loved. He said I never looked prettier than when my makeup was ruined, and my mouth was stuffed with his cock.

Felix pulled himself out of my mouth, much to my dismay, and said, "I'm going to fuck your throat, sweetheart, and then I'm going to cum, and you'll swallow every drop like a good girl. Do you understand?"

I nodded, but Felix pulled my hair, eliciting a whimper from me as my scalp burned. "Use your words, pretty girl-"

"Yes, please, Felix. Use my mouth and throat however you want. I don't care; I just want to make you feel good."

Felix smiled smugly, pleased with my needy behavior. He lined himself up at my lips, and I promptly parted them. His length filled my mouth once again before he pulled out and hastily thrust back in. He soon found a pace that was both punishing and pleasurable, and each time he entered my mouth, his cock eased farther down my throat until I couldn't take any more of him. I drew my hands behind my back as Felix had taught me to do whenever he was using my mouth. I loved showing him how I could remember to be obedient. 

His fingers dug into the base of my skull, and drool began dripping down my chin and covering my neck. I hollowed out my cheeks as Felix increased his pace.

"That's it. Just like that," Felix praised. His voice was tight, and I knew it was mere seconds before he would climax. I pulled my hands from where they rested behind my back and cupped his balls, gently squeezing them to send him over the edge. 

A low, guttural cry left his mouth as hot ropes of cum shot down my throat, and I eagerly swallowed, not wanting to waste a single drop. Above me, Felix panted heavily as he leaned against the tree behind him and gently messaged my scalp to soothe the lingering ache of his rough actions.

"You did so good for me, darling. I'm so proud of you," he whispered as he gently pulled out of my mouth and quickly tucked himself back into his pants. He guided me to my feet and directly into his warm embrace, and I nuzzled my face in his neck and inhaled, breathing in his familiar scent—a combination of his usual cologne and pure Felix. 

He drew random shapes on my back as he held me in his arms and continued to mutter soft words of praise. I would've gladly stayed here forever, but the annoying reminder that I had class popped into my head, and I groaned into the confines of Felix's chest. 

"What is it, lovely?" he murmured.

"I have class." 

I glanced at the small, gold watch wrapped around my wrist, a recent present from Felix, and saw I only had three minutes to get to a lecture all the way across campus. But I only had myself to blame, considering it was my idea to bring him here and fool around.

"I have a better idea."

I peered up at Felix with curious eyes. He gave me a chaste kiss before wrapping my hand in his calloused one and leading me away from the cover of the trees.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, trying to keep up with his long strides. I had an intense feeling of deja vu. 

Felix turned back to look at me playfully. "Back to my room."

"But what about class?"

"What about class? I say, we skip it."

We stopped walking and stood face to face. I tried fixing Felix with my most displeasing stare but failed terribly and gave into the smile that was fighting its way onto my face.  

"You're a terrible influence, you know that?"

"You love it."

I love you.

I closed my mouth before the words could fall out and gazed at the ground before looking back into his amber eyes and nodding as soft laughter shook my shoulders. "You're right. I do." I cupped his cheek and pulled his mouth down to mine. The kiss was short, yet it held many emotions and feelings I couldn't share. 

When we parted, Felix wore a sly expression. "I take that as a yes, then?"

I shook my head in defeat. "Yes, it is."

"Then right this way, m'lady," Felix announced with a teasing voice as he wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me toward his dormitory quarters. 

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"What are you doing for the summer?"

Felix had an arm flung across my back, holding me against him, and my head rested comfortably on his chest while he asked me about my summer plans. Our clothes had been shed when we entered Felix's room, and the only material covering our bodies now was a thin cotton sheet on his narrow dorm bed.  

I snuggled closer to him as I answered, "Home, I suppose. Though I can't say, I'm looking forward to it."

My mother died when I was nine, and since then, my father has run through a long list of wives. I felt like London Tipton with a new stepmother every other month. He recently divorced Synthia, my tenth stepmother, and was already courting number eleven. I would miss number ten, though. Oxford had hosted a family day a few months ago, and of course, my father failed to make an appearance, but Synthia happily showed up in his place. She was the first stepmother to make an effort in a long time, so I was bitter that my father had dumped her, and I was already planning on hating number eleven no matter how "great" she was. 

"Hmm," Felix hummed as he traced the outline of my shoulder blade. He seemed deep in thought when I tilted my head up to see his face. His brow furrowed, and he bit his lip before swiping his tongue across it. I would've used that small action as a reason to pounce on him for the third time that day, but I was too curious about the thoughts I could see circulating his mind. 

Felix met my eyes, and for the first time, I saw shyness inhibit his features. Bashfulness was not a typical trait for Felix, so I was immediately concerned. "What's on your mind, baby?" I asked as I brushed my hand across his cheek comfortingly.

"I..." He smiled sheepishly as his gaze shot downward. "I was wondering if you'd like to spend the summer with me. At Saltburn."

"Saltburn?"

"Yeah, that's the name of my family's estate. It's where Venetia, Farleigh, and I always spend the summer, and I'd like it if you joined us this year."

I could feel the surprise cross my face, which quickly turned to excitement as I stared at Felix, trying to find words to formulate a response. I knew we hadn't been together long, but what I felt for him was so intense and passionate that spending an entire summer without his warm, consuming presence would drive me mad. I would gladly spend the summer with him anywhere, whether it was a deserted island or his family's estate. 

Felix looked at me with a hopeful expression; his eyes searched my face anxiously, and I saw his relief when I finally replied. "I would love to, Felix." 

"Really?" He became giddy as he sat up. I joined him in a seated position and grasped his hands. 

"Yes. I couldn't bear being without you for the whole summer. It would be pure torture. Plus, I love our little group and can hardly imagine spending the break without Farleigh or Venetia-"

Felix kissed me unexpectedly, swallowing the rest of my sentence. His hands cradled the back of my head before he drew back and sprang up from his bed. He began haphazardly searching for his clothes as he rambled his plans. "I must phone Mum and Dad right away. They knew I was going to ask you, and I've got to tell them you're coming so Duncan has plenty of time to prepare the room next to mine. Of course, you can stay in my room, but Mum prefers everyone to have a certain level of propriety and decorum at Saltburn. I mean, I'm not even allowed to wear my fucking stud there. But it's ok because a bathroom will connect our rooms, so you can sneak over without ever being caught."

Felix was panting by the time he finished his speech. Fully dressed, he rushed back to his bed, falling beside me and covering my face with kisses. I giggled before he captured my lips in a deep, slow kiss. Gone was his high level of energy as he claimed my mouth most sensually. Reluctantly, we parted, and a smile, so happy, so joyful, stretched across his beautiful face. He radiated pure bliss.

"I'll be right back." He pecked me lightly on my nose before grabbing his cell phone and departing from the room, shutting the door softly behind him. 

I fell back into his bed and stretched my arms above my head. Elation soared through my body, and I turned my head, spotting the pack of cigarettes and lighter on my boyfriend's bedside table. I had never smoked before meeting Felix, and when I tried it for the first time, I was quickly scolded by him as he said, "You're lungs are too pretty to be damaged by smoke. Give it to me, darling." I had made a show of pouting as I claimed that he had made it look so sexy, and I had just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. 

I had tried to convince Felix that I was not interested in anyone telling me what not to do, but I secretly adored how much he cared for me and how my well-being was at the top of his priority list. I had only attempted smoking twice since then, and both times, Felix had promptly hauled me back to his room to "teach me a lesson" for not listening to him. I thoroughly enjoyed both "lessons." 

The cigarette was balanced between my lips as I expertly picked up the lighter, flicked the flame to life, and held it to the end of the small, white stick. I breathed in deeply, relishing the way the nicotine reminded me of Felix. Memories traveled to the forefront of my mind of him wrapping his mouth around his own cig and effortlessly inhaling. The images caused my pussy to clench painfully, and I squeezed my legs together tightly. I had spent most of the day in bed with Felix, but I still craved him. I was insatiable when it came to Felix Catton.  

Well, speak of the Devil. I saw the doorknob turn before Felix's tall form appeared in the doorway. His eyes immediately honed in on the small object between my lips, and they darkened. "I thought you had finally learned your lesson last time. At least, that's what you promised me when you were on the brink of cumming with a red ass and tears falling from those pretty eyes."

I audibly swallowed as I pulled the cigarette from my mouth and exhaled, letting a puff of smoke spill from my lips. "I don't know what you're talking about," I innocently said before taking another drag.

It took Felix three strides to reach my side and pull the cigarette from my mouth. He harshly ground it in his ashtray before flipping me over onto my stomach. "I guess I won't be as nice this time since you're so intent on being disobedient."

I gazed at him over my shoulder as I felt my pussy flood with wetness. There was no way I was making it to any of my classes today.

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chapter index

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

[rock-and-roll-hell]

July 25, 1980

Unmasked Tour

Palladium - New York City, NY

Eric Carr’s live debut with KIϟϟ wearing the first version of his “Fox” makeup. While heavily featuring the 1979 and 1980 studio albums, it is somewhat strange to consider that the set included three covers: “2,000 Man,” originally recorded by the Rolling Stones; “New York Groove,” originally recorded by Hello; and “King of the Night Time World,” originally performed by the Hollywood Stars (though never commercially released). “Is That You?” while not written by the band had also not been commercially released by the writer or other artists. The only United States “Unmasked” era concert and contemporary performance of material from that album. This show marked the live debut of three songs from “Unmasked” including “Is That You?,” “Talk To Me,” and “You’re All That I Want.”The Palladium was the renamed Academy of Music, where KIϟϟ had made their industry debut in December 1973. KIϟϟ spun their appearance at a smaller venue: “It was a night of nostalgia for Ace, Paul and Gene. And a dream come true for Eric Carr. KIϟϟ planned a special performance at the Palladium in New York to introduce Eric to its staunchest home town fans. There was very little publicity. The one-night-only show was mostly a word of mouth affair. Although small for KIϟϟ today, the hall was chosen for sentimental reasons. Most of the fans, as well as the band, were remembering the historic night KIϟϟ played its first important New York performance on that very stage… the show was a resounding success”.

From local press: “KIϟϟ performed at the Palladium on Friday night, which was unusual; the group usually plays venues the size of Madison Square Garden. Slipping popularity may account for the Palladium date to some extent, but KIϟϟ could certainly have filled the theater several nights running and chose not to do so. The show’s primary purpose seems to have been the introduction of Eric Carr, the new drummer, to the band’s hard-core fans. A few diehards yelled for the departed Peter Criss, but not for long. This listener kept trying to remember what Mr. Criss used to sound like, but the effort proved fruitless. Before long, he became accustomed to Mr. Carr, who played a somewhat elaborate drum kit and was sometimes a little floppy but kicked the music along nicely. The band had installed its flashy stage set and resorted to a number of its tried and true visual gimmicks, but with the scale of the event reduced, one tended to focus more on the music. It wasn’t bad. It was heavy-handed, macho to an almost comical degree, rife with bombast and excess, everything one expects heavy metal to be, but the playing was tight – much tighter than the last time the reviewer heard KIϟϟ, at the Garden – and most of the songs weren’t padded with unnecessary solo noodling. Whether KIϟϟ fans will take to Mr. Carr remains to be seen; one would think they’d be satisfied with Gene Simmons’s tongue-wagging and fire-breathing and Ace Frehley’s flaming guitar. In any event, and for what it’s worth, Mr. Carr’s addition to the band seems to have been a positive step, though it isn’t likely to make KIϟϟ’ music ‘genuinely important to life’” (New York Times, 7/27/80).

Another: “Carr proved to be a capable drummer but no Peter Criss. The show wasn’t quite the visual extravaganza I’d anticipated, nor was it the Sodom and Gomorrah meets 'The Night of the Living Dead’ I’d feared. Instead, it seemed like the 'Wizard of Oz’ gone awry” (Aquarian).

From a mainstream review: “It was apparent from the appearance and playing of Carr that KIϟϟ one of the most successful rock acts of all times, was not taking any chances with the music or the formula now that original drummer Peter Criss has departed for a solo career… So it was almost the typical KIϟϟ show. But with the new drummer now more in the background, the focus was more on the front three… And although performing on a smaller stage than usual, the show was basically the same” (Billboard, 8/9/80).

From a regional review: “KIϟϟ concerts are a little like Christmas. The anticipation is half the fun, and everyone was up for this one… KIϟϟ crashed through their 20-song set with the delicacy of a chain gang” (London, CT, The Day, 8/1/80).

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Matt Wuerker, Politico

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 30, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 31, 2024

On Friday, October 25, at a town hall held on his social media platform X, Elon Musk told the audience that if Trump wins, he expects to work in a Cabinet-level position to cut the federal government.

He told people to expect “temporary hardship” but that cuts would “ensure long-term prosperity.” At the Trump rally at New York City’s Madison Square Garden on Sunday, Musk said he plans to cut $2 trillion from the government. Economists point out that current discretionary spending in the budget is $1.7 trillion, meaning his promise would eliminate virtually all discretionary spending, which includes transportation, education, housing, and environmental programs.

Economists agree that Trump’s plans to place a high tariff wall around the U.S., replacing income taxes on high earners with tariffs paid for by middle-class Americans, and to deport as many as 20 million immigrants would crash the booming economy. Now Trump’s financial backer Musk is factoring in the loss of entire sectors of the government to the economy under Trump.  

Trump has promised to appoint Musk to be the government’s “chief efficiency officer.” “Everyone’s going to have to take a haircut.… We can’t be a wastrel.… We need to live honestly,” Musk said on Friday. Rob Wile and Lora Kolodny of CNBC point out that Musk’s SpaceX aerospace venture has received $19 billion from the U.S. government since 2008.

An X user wrote: “I]f Trump succeeds in forcing through mass deportations, combined with Elon hacking away at the government, firing people and reducing the deficit—there will be an initial severe overreaction in the economy…. Markets will tumble. But when the storm passes and everyone realizes we are on sounder footing, there will be a rapid recovery to a healthier, sustainable economy. History could be made in the coming two years.”

Musk commented: “Sounds about right[.]”

This exchange echoes the prescription of Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon, whose theories had done much to create the Great Crash of 1929, for restoring a healthy economy. “Liquidate labor, liquidate stocks, liquidate the farmers, liquidate real estate,” he told President Herbert Hoover. “It will purge the rottenness out of the system. High costs of living and high living

will come down. People will work harder, live a more moral life. Values will be adjusted, and enterprising people will pick up the wrecks from less competent people.” 

Mellon, at least, was reacting to an economic crisis thrust upon an administration. Musk is seeking to create one. 

Today the Commerce Department reported that from July through September, the nation’s economy grew at a solid 2.8%. Consumer spending is up, as is investment in business. The country added 254,000 jobs in September, and inflation has fallen back almost to the Federal Reserve’s target of 2%. 

It is extraordinarily rare for a country to be able to reduce inflation without creating a recession, but the Biden administration has managed to do so, producing what economists call a “soft landing,” rather like catching an egg on a plate. As Bryan Mena of CNN wrote today: “The US economy seems to have pulled off a remarkable and historic achievement.” 

Both President Joe Biden and Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris have called for reducing the deficit not by slashing the government, as Musk proposes, but by restoring taxes on the wealthy and corporations. 

As part of the Republicans’ plan to take the country back to the era before the 1930s ushered in a government that regulated business and provided a basic social safety net, House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) expects to get rid of the Affordable Care Act. 

At a closed-door campaign event on Monday in Pennsylvania for a Republican House candidate, Johnson told supporters that Republicans will propose “massive reform” to the Affordable Care Act, also known as “Obamacare,” if they take control of both the House and the Senate in November. “Health-care reform’s going to be a big part of the agenda,” Johnson said. Their plan is to take a “blowtorch to the regulatory state,” which he says is “crushing the free market.” “Trump’s going to go big,” he said.” When an attendee asked, “No Obamacare?” he laughed and agreed: “No Obamacare…. The ACA is so deeply ingrained, we need massive reform to make this work, and we got a lot of ideas on how to do that.” 

Ending a campaign with a promise to crash a booming economy and end the Affordable Care Act, which ended insurance companies’ ability to reject people with preexisting conditions, is an unusual strategy.

A post from Trump last night and another this morning suggest his internal polls are worrying him. Last night he claimed there was cheating in Pennsylvania’s York and Lancaster counties. Today he posted: “Pennsylvania is cheating, and getting caught, at large scale levels rarely seen before. REPORT CHEATING TO AUTHORITIES. Law Enforcement must act, NOW!” 

Trump appears to be setting up the argument he used in 2020, that he can lose only if he has been cheated. But it is increasingly apparent that the get-out-the-vote, or GOTV, efforts of the Trump campaign have been weak. When Trump’s daughter-in-law Lara Trump and loyalist Michael Whatley became the co-chairs of the Republican National Committee in March 2024, they stopped the GOTV efforts underway and used the money instead for litigation. They outsourced GOTV efforts to super PACs, including Musk’s America PAC.

In Wired today, Jake Lahut reported that door-knockers for Musk’s PAC were driven around in the back of a U-Haul without seats and threatened with having to pay their own hotel bills if they didn’t meet high canvassing quotas. One of the canvassers told Lahut that they thought they were being hired to ask people who they would be voting for when they flew into Michigan, and was surprised to learn their actual role. The workers spoke to Lahut anonymously because they had signed a nondisclosure agreement (a practice the Biden administration has tried to stop).

Trump’s boast that he is responsible for the Supreme Court’s overturning of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision recognizing the constitutional right to abortion is one of the reasons his support is soft. In addition to popular dislike of the idea that the state, rather than a woman and her doctor, should make decisions about her healthcare, the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision is now over two years old, and state examinations of maternal deaths are showing that women are dying from lack of reproductive healthcare. 

Cassandra Jaramillo and Kavitha Surana of ProPublica reported today that at least two pregnant women have died in Texas when doctors delayed emergency care after a miscarriage until the fetal heartbeat stopped. The woman they highlighted today, Josseli Barnica, left behind a husband and a toddler. 

At a rally this evening near Green Bay, Wisconsin, Trump said his team had advised him to stop talking about how he was going to protect women by ending crime and making sure they don’t have to be “thinking about abortion.” But Trump, who has boasted of sexual assault and been found liable for it, did not stop there. He went on to say that he had told his advisors, “I’m going to do it whether the women like it or not. I am going to protect them.” 

The Trump campaign remains concerned about the damage caused by the extraordinarily racist, sexist, and violent Sunday night rally at Madison Square Garden. Today the campaign seized on a misstatement President Biden made when condemning the statement from the Madison Square Garden event that referred to Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage.” They tried to turn the tables to suggest that Biden was calling Trump supporters garbage, although the president has always been very careful to focus his condemnation on Trump alone. 

In Wisconsin today, when he disembarked from his plane, Trump put on an orange reflective vest and had someone drive him around the tarmac in a garbage truck with TRUMP painted on the side. He complained about Biden to reporters from the cab of the truck but still refused to apologize for Sunday’s slur of Puerto Rico, saying he knew nothing about the comedian who appeared at his rally. 

This, too, was an unusual strategy. Like his visit to McDonalds, where he wore an apron, the image of Trump in a sanitation truck was likely intended to show him as a man of the people. But his power has always rested not in his promise to be one of the people, but rather to lead them. The pictures of him in a bright orange vest and unusually dark makeup are quite different from his usual portrayal of himself.

Indeed, media captured a video of Trump’s stunt, and it did not convey strength. MSNBC’s Katie Phang watched him try to get into the truck and noted: “Trump stumbles, drags his right leg, almost falls over, and tries at least three times to open the door…. Some transparency with Trump’s medical records would be nice.” 

The Las Vegas Sun today ran an editorial that detailed Trump’s increasingly obvious mental lapses and concluded that Trump is “crippled cognitively and showing clear signs of mental illness.” It noted that Trump now depends “on enablers who show a disturbing willingness to indulge his delusions, amplify his paranoia or steer his feeble mind toward their own goals.” It noted that if Trump cannot fulfill the duties of the presidency, they would fall to his running mate, J.D. Vance, who has suggested “he would subordinate constitutional principles for personal profit and power.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[eptodaytommorowforever]

Events In The History And Of The Life Of Elvis Presley Today On The 12th Of November In 1972

Elvis Presley Tour And Show Comes To San Bernardino CA.

A look back at Elvis Presley's 1972 outstanding concert at swing auditorium in San Bernardino CA

Sunday night, Nov. 12, 1972. The Santa Ana winds were howling, so typical of San Bernardino in November. And it was cold. But a sold-out crowd stood patiently to have an audience with The Legend . Elvis Presley was in the Swing Auditorium.

The Swing was the place east of L.A.'s Fabulous Forum to see virtually every top name act in the rock world, circa 1964 through 1981. Located on E Street, the auditorium was built in 1949 on the grounds of the National Orange Show and was named for Senator Ralph E. Swing, a San Bernardino legislator. What a glorious barn it was and what history played out on that stage. The Rolling Stones did their first American concert there in June 1964. The place rocked until a small plane crashed into it on Sept. 11, 1981 and the auditorium had to be demolished. One of the last shows played there featured Iron Maiden.

In between, rock royalty were regulars. Fleetwood Mac played more than five times. The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Cream, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Black Sabbath, Ramones (as opening act), Chicago, Jethro Tull, Alice Cooper, the Grateful Dead (multiple times), Faces with Rod Stewart (also multiple times), Santana, the Kinks, Janis Joplin, Eric Clapton, the Beach Boys, and more. Look up how many of these acts are in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Just about everybody but the Beatles made it to the Swing.

Prior to the modern rock era, Bob Hope was almost an annual fixture at the Swing during the National Orange Show Fair. Other notables who performed there in the '50s and '60s included Sammy Davis Jr., Jack Benny, Judy Garland, Jerry Lewis, and George Burns. But never had a King played there before that night.

Yet, it wasn't as if Elvis Presley had never been to the IE. He did own a house for several of the Priscilla years in Palm Springs and was known to do some boating in Big Bear Lake. Many scenes of the totally forgettable remake movie 'Kid Galahad' were shot in Idyllwild. And, some of the outdoor footage in 1964's 'Kissin' Cousins' was shot in the San Bernardino Mountains. Still, this was different.

Elvis Presley's nationwide tour began at Madison Square Garden in New York, a city he had never before performed live in. The four concerts there were sold out and got rave reviews. At 37, he was 'lean, tanned and greasily handsome, his coal-black hair glistening with an oily 1950s sheen', as the New York Times' Grace Lichtenstein put it. At a press conference before the Madison Square Garden appearance, he was asked about the secret of his longevity on the pop music scene. 'I take Vitamin E', he told reporters.

From New York, the tour moved west, passing through cities like Milwaukee, Chicago, Wichita and Tulsa before continuing on to Las Vegas. Elvis stayed there for most of October before continuing the tour, which took him to Texas, Arizona, and into California. He hit Oakland, then San Bernardino, where he performed two sold-out shows - one on Nov. 12 and another on Nov. 13. rom there, he headed to the Long Beach Arena for two shows, the last stop before catching a plane for Honolulu where the tour would wrap up. Originally, the Honolulu show was planned to be broadcast worldwide by satellite, but the broadcast date was changed to early 1973 so it wouldn't conflict with the release of MGM's musical documentary Elvis on Tour. No matter. The show (actually four of them) went on. And in Honolulu, as well as in other cities on the tour, fans of all ages crowded concert venues to get a live view of the King.

So it was in San Bernardino. The Swing could hold about 10,000 people with a concert take of around $60,000. On that cold November night, fans crammed into the sold-out auditorium. With reserved seating, there was none of the festival seating chaos that marked the Swing rock shows - kids pushing and shoving and fighting to get to the stage area. This crowd was real diferent. I was way too young at 21. For the usual Swing rock show, most of the concertgoers were my age or younger. The guys had long hair, wore boots, Levis and denim work shirts (think the cover of a Creedence album.) The girls went braless, wore tight jeans or peasant dresses. There were always more guys than girls.

For Elvis Presley though, these fans had jobs, mortgages, and kids. The women clearly outnumbered the guys. They wore bright yellow or orange dresses, lots of makeup. Hairspray was huge. And, there were more than a few suicide blondes with hot pants and go-go boots. (I would never have sat on anything in the Swing in hot pants.) Jean Naté was locked in mortal combat with Charlie in a fragrance war. My Sin perfume held its own. Smoke from the bathrooms came from real Marlboro men (and women.)

My seat was in the cheap section - off to the side and high up, close to the glued-on tinsel that was a prominent feature of the Swing. The place always had a peculiar smell. Close to show time, greedy Colonel Tom's minions were at the stage hawking T-shirts, photos, and other assorted gee-gaws. I wonder just how much of that cash Elvis Presley received.

Finally, the lights lowered. The band started playing the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Then, there he was - The King. He was resplendent in a black and red concert suit.

Though his show was typical of his Vegas show that he performed at the International Hotel (later known as the Las Vegas Hilton and now called the Westgate Las Vegas Resort & Casino), it didn't matter to his loyal subjects. He was live in San Berdoo! Old ladies screamed. It was hard to tell from my cheap seat, but I believe there were a few panties thrown at him.

His voice and physique were in A-plus form. He ripped through concert standards such as 'Polk Salad Annie', crooned to crowd favorite 'Can't Help Falling In Love', and did a couple of religious numbers with the gospel group J.D. Sumner and The Stamps.

No Elvis Presley show would be complete without the hits 'Hound Dog', 'All Shook Up', 'Jailhouse Rock', and 'American Trilogy'.

His band and entourage - the Sweet Inspirations, legendary guitar hero James Burton - provided a full sound that could not be duplicated by the typical four-man rock act. It was a show truly becoming of a King. The crowd responded as if seeing him for the first time. Bedlam broke out among the thousands of fans.

After about 90 minutes, despite fans calling for more, Elvis Presley left the auditorium for the San Bernardino Hilton, about $60,000 richer. I was a poor college kid. I went to Del Taco. What a Sunday night! rare candid photo's one captured of elvis presley leaving Oakland CA captured here by a female ep fan boarding is executive chartered jet heading to San Bernardino CA and performing here at this show wearing the white pinwheel jumpsuit and the white cape and the lions head belt captured by a fan audience member who was at this show concert.

[dallasgallant]

Time Period post: Hangout Spots

If you have any topic related to the time period you’re curious about let me know, I’m not a definitive source but hey I could spare you the few minutes of looking it up. This can be help for writing fics if you’re particular about time period like me or just curious as it adds context to the story, whatever you’re here for.

Hangout spots are mentioned a few times in the book, mainly restaurants that the greasers (Dingo, Jay’s) and socs(Way out, Rusty’s) hang at and the territory of the Curtis and Shepard outfits — that being the lot and alleys by the tracks respectively. There’s also a few locations in the movie like the Pines Diner, unnamed diner and pharmacy. But what I want to go into is a few more potential spots around town besides these places, the movies, the DX station or the lot that are also likely.

Bowling-

Bowling alley does get a mention! Johnny likes to play pinball there. I imagine like the diners there’s likely a Greaser and a Soc frequented one on each side of town. This was pre arcade so it was mainly just pinball machines scattered about and eventually Pong In the 70s.

Bars/pool halls/dance halls-

Gang would probably frequent a bar or too, play pool, drink etc. It’s a small town they know people, fake IDs etc—- lax attitudes of the time and being in a gang help being able to stay (drinking age was also younger/varied by state). Bucks roadhouse being one of them.

Dancing was still super popular, especially with the rise of teen dance shows (think hairspray) and Fad dance crazes (Twist, mash potato, Madison etc.) Dance halls were a thing! Sort of clubbing before clubbing. However this is much more of a soc activity, the boys would probably line dance at a bar - got into too many fights at the dance hall lol.

Soda fountains-

It’s not just the machine, these used to be actual physical places (same goes for malt shops). Common at pharmacy’s/drug shops (like we see in the movie) and a few other retailers you’d have a nice counter where you could get soft drinks, shakes etc - in the 1880s it was alcohol there is a wild history to these that’s utterly unrelated to what I’m talking about but really interesting.

Drive in-

I know I said this was going to be places besides the movies but drive ins were seriously popular. The place to hang out, especially in a small town.

Drive/country roads-

Just taking a long drive down the road looking for trouble. Maybe cow tipping, maybe just speeding.

Rodeo-

School football game-

Drag races/car events/lots-

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Desiree Simons(oc)

a/n: This was already posted once on ao3, but I figured the non ao3 readers would prefer to have it posted here on tumblr. My oc has a mini introduction if you wanna check that out, it lined to my pinned post. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure how to go about this fic, but then Never Lose Me by Flo Milli—the inspiration—started playing and my brain instantly clicked on. Even though this is the same story still gonna tag my wonderful beta @insatiableorsmthn especially bc she’s not even a wrestling fan and put up with my man–splaining. Hope you all enjoys this, reblogs are appreciated, questions and comments are welcomed. Love ya ✨💜

Chapter 1: Never Lost You

Monday Night Raw

“Desiree, I’m serious; if you’re still not feeling 100, maybe it’s a bad idea to return early,” my dad’s worried face deepens over his end of the FaceTime call. When Hunter put together Becky, and I’s Wrestlemania match two years ago, my dad was the first person to know. To say he was happy is an understatement, that was the cause of our real first argument. My dad’s need to protect me kept clashing with not only original creativity, but also my independence. I lost count on how many times I had to tell him to stop handing me baby gloves. My vision for Wrestlemania was me finally stepping out of the shadows, proving that I have my own personality, and that I can be the main event without any help. He always supports everything I do, but he absolutely would not have it with the tables, latters, and chairs. So when I lied and told him it wouldn't be involved, I lied. Truth be told Becky didn’t want to put my knee through that chair, only after I begged, and wore her down about it she agreed to it. In the end, we were both proud of how everything turned out, that year's Wrestle Mania event sold out Madison Square Garden. I remember my dad waiting backstage that night with tears in his eyes, both tears of joy, and disappointment. From that point on my dad stopped asking about my matches, all he asks about is my health, and if I was satisfied with the outcome. However when he found out I’m returning earlier than what I was originally scheduled, that’s when he expressed true concern.

“I know, Daddy. I’ve thought about that…” I trail off for a moment as I weigh all my impossible options. My father’s Hall of Famer ring glints from the sunlight coming in from his patio window. That’s when my previous doubts about returning to the ring, got put to bed. If I want to be the greatest, better than my dad, then I can’t sit around the house all day. “I don’t have time to wait for 100 percent; you can’t become the greatest by waiting for perfection.” I caught a glimpse of the fire in my eyes from the reflective image through the phone, I can feel the way my eyebrows are pinching together, and my lips purse in resilience. The reassurance of my words were his reserve, any worries he had are long gone.

The smile on his lips shines brightly, and just then my mom pokes her head into frame. “Whatever you decide, you know we support you, baby girl.” She smiles warmly, her tone soft and loving as always. My heart aches as I start to feel homesick. I haven’t been home to Huston in god knows how long, but instead of crying about it, I suck it up so as to not make my parents worry about me.

“Alright then, you’ve put your foot down. I’ll let you go, I know you’re very busy tonight. Love you Dee.” He waved his hand, and my mom blew me a kiss. I kiss them back, and hang up the phone. I inhale deeply, collecting my thoughts; a plethora of emotions pass over me and I would like to get them all down to one constant before I step through the curtain tonight.

“I’m all done, girl.” My hair stylist, Janelle, fluffs my long curls. I look up from my phone, and into the mirror in front of me, my lips curl into a sly smirk. Everytime, she knocks it out of the park with every style I request of her. The pink highlights match my bright pink under eyeliner – not my favorite color, but I’m really trying to lean into showcasing my alternative fashion sense more on tv. I was originally opposed to a heel turn, I felt like the fans wouldn’t be into it, but I seriously underestimated them. Besides, I’m having fun pretty much getting away with being an emotionally spiraling asshole on TV. My outfit for the opening of the show is simple with a little bit of edge, but it’s still stepping on necks. You can never go wrong with all black.

“Yesss ma’am,” I dance around in a circle emphasizing my gratitude and excitement. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Thanks, Janelle – I’ll see you next month.” We hug, and kiss, then I go on about my way, making my way down the hall to catering. I pass a few people here and there waving and responding to small talk on the way by, until I spot Mercedes in the back with Becky. Upon seeing me, their faces light up, causing me to dance my way all the way to their table.

“Well aren’t you just glowing, bursting full of energy.” Mercedes slaps hands with me before I take a seat at the table. I steal a grape from her fruit salad, to which she playfully stabs me with her fork.

“Doc put me back together now I’m a real boy again.” I joke playfully, and Mercedes bumps her shoulder into mine, a sly smirk on her lips. Becky doesn’t buy what I’m selling her, so when our gazes meet, I silently beg her to leave it. She remains silent, but I know I’ll be getting an ear full later. Despite us all being booked tonight, it’s been so long since we were all in the same place at once so, we all sit around joking, chit-chatting for a bit, and it feels like picking up right where we left off before my hiatus. Time gradually begins to dwindle down for me, creeping closer to the match. Tonight is supposed to initiate a tag team with Drew and I versus Seth and Becky. I have yet to find Drew and catch up with him, though I would be saying I’m lying if I haven’t been trying to avoid him. I manage to steal another piece of fruit from Becky, and this time she doesn’t fight me on it. “Kay, this is where I leave you ladies. I’ll see you out there Becks.” I stand up from my seat, phone in hand. My eyes scan the room once to see if he was already here before I waste my time running all over the arena. I’m not surprised when I can’t spot him; Drew’s always been a chill loner type. I’ve almost never seen him hanging out with groups of people, it’s one of the things that brought my attention to him when we first met. He’s a quiet guy that lets his abilities speak for themselves, in more ways than one. A shiver runs down my spine as flashbacks detour my mind from the mission at hand. A week before my return, I had a meeting with Hunter, and Vince to figure out where the story should go once I return. We ran through a few ideas here, and there. They wanted me to go just skip ahead and go right for Rhea Rippley, but I wanted it to be as natural as possible. I felt like the previous story didn’t quite close how it was supposed to. So when I brought up Becky that’s what led to Vince’s idea of getting Seth, and Drew involved. “The ending of your story with Becky, will be the beginning of not only Drew’s story, but now the beginning of your feud with Rhea Rippley.”

I wave the girls goodbye, and set on my way once again. The amount of people in the hallways are thinner than they were a half hour ago. I pass a ref gently grab onto their shoulder, “Hey have you seen Drew.” They smile at me, no doubt happy to see me back, but when their lips tilt down in a frown, its all the answer I need. That was the fifth person that had come up empty and I was starting to think he either didn't make it to the arena, or left.

“Wassup DeeDee, lookin for your boyfriend?” Colby’s voice comes from behind, a knowing smirk plastered onto his lips when I turn to look at him. I roll my eyes deeply, ignoring the pain I cause myself, and fold my arms over my chest.

“Ha ha, have you seen him or not?” I cut to the chase. Colby is like the older brother I never wanted, always putting his big nose in business that isn’t his own. He shrugs his shoulders, a look of feign confusion etched across his face as he brings a finger to his chin tapping it. He takes his sweet time pondering, long enough that I begin to turn and walk away. Usually I’m in the mood to goof around, but there were too many things on my mind. Drew being the main one, and truth be told he’s been living rent free in my head.

“Geesh okay, okay, calm down. I think the doctor may have accidentally screwed your brain up in the process. What happened to your humor, Dee?” His frown deepens when I continue to stare him down; if my annoyance isn’t evident a moment ago, it sure is now. I shift the weight in my hips, my arms falling to my sides, and my hand coming up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I get a good glimpse at his outfit, and I won't admit to him out loud how well his new sense of fashion is working for him. He’s bringing out his Randy Savage, and Ric Flair in these outfits. I’m sort of jealous.

“It was my knee, you dumb ass, I injured my knee.” I tap my knee cap with the other hand, to which he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. His WWE Heavyweight Championship was an eyesore, and I am quite honestly tired of looking at it at the moment. It’s just a reminder of how long I’ve been gone, and just how many opportunities I’ve been missing out on because of this stupid injury.

“I’m sure you’ll find your…friend lurking in some dark corner, I passed by him like 30 minutes ago that way.” Colby jabs his thumb in the direction behind him. My heart speeds up unexpectedly, it’s been a year since I’ve seen, or even spoken to Drew.

“Thanks.” I mumble, my body already moving past Colby, he grasps me in the shoulder giving it a light squeeze, but then lets me go afterwards. I keep walking until I reach a break in the white brick walls. It's odd to place a break off hall here, but that’s why it made the perfect hiding place, I suppose. Looks like it’s used to store tools, and such. There he is, leaning against a crate with headphones over his head. His eyes are closed, and his arms crossed over his broad chest. He’s already dressed for the first segment of the night, he kept it simple in a pair of jeans, a merch t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. I don’t really want to disturb him, but I don’t really have a choice. “Stop being pussyfoot Des, and just do it.” I murmur to myself, taking a step forward. Drew’s eyes fly open, his head snapping in my direction. I squeak out of shock; his intuition is freaky and accurate. His eyes soften once he realizes who is standing before him. He pulls off his headphones and the sound of heavy rock bleeds from them piques my interest for a moment. We used to stay up all night till we fell asleep on the phone, talking about our favorite bands. Between me wanting to keep things between us private, and me letting my injury cause a wedge between us, it’s safe to say I felt responsible for ruining whatever it was we had. “Wassup Andrew, been a while, kid.” I play it off cool, I try to step away from our past, and just get through this moment. I should have known better.

He walks closer, his tall frame towering over me causing me to have to look up at him from this distance. “I would ask how’s the knee, but you seem to be just fine don’t ya, princess.” His tone is sharp and I’m thrown off by his response. Instantly, I lose my chill. My arms fold over my chest, an attempt to calm myself down, but he’s always gotten underneath my skin with ease.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I’m quickly reminded of the last argument we had, in fact all of our arguments usually start because he goads me into them. Every time, without fail, I fall into the trap. The corners of his lips pull into a smile ever so slightly. He had been waiting for this moment, to tell me off, to embarrass me. Drew didn’t care if there were five or zero people around, he’d say what he had to say.

“You had a career ending injury, you disappeared, you didn’t speak to me for what feels like an eternity, and you just pop up with a ‘Wassup’? Is that the best you got?” And there it was, the truth. He inhales deeply, his tongue sweeping across his lips to wet them. He isn’t done ripping me a new one. I deserve it, I expect nothing less, I didn't have a reason to close off all communication, I just wanted to be left alone. He can be so smothering at times, I didn't have the stamina to keep the facade up in order to spare his feelings at the time. So here I am, waiting for him to take me back in like a stray.

“I…I called you. Not once did you answer, and I know you think I want you to baby me. I don’t need that from you, I’m a grown man, I can handle rejection, but what I won’t tolerate is disrespect. So if you wanna sit here and claim that I wasn’t worth one fuckin phone call, and that all that time we spent together ment nothing to you, at least have the balls to say so.” Man that stings, I crumble under his gaze, those icy blue eyes softening, but he wasn’t backing down on his statement. I wish we could just laugh it off, and bury the hatchet, and maybe we could, but only if I’m really careful. I’m right at eye level with his chest, and I can’t help but think of how comfortable his body felt when he held me despite how muscular he is. No matter how mad he got, or how much we roughhouse, he was always very gentle with me. “Ya’aren’t even listening to me.” I’m snapped out of my day dream and back into the present, but before I knew it, he’s walking away.

“Shit” I curse to myself, and chase after him. “Hey don’t walk away from me! Drew!” He refuses to turn around which leaves me with no choice. I run and jump on his back. For once, I catch him off guard, he yelps out in shock. I manage to crawl around to his front side while hanging onto his shoulders. My legs wrap around his waist, and without hesitation, his large hands hold onto my hips, his grip tightens, and his nails lightly dig into my flesh. I bury my head in the crook of his neck, taking in his minty scent, and just hug him as tightly as I can. “They say ‘you don’t miss the water, tell the well runs dry’, and boy did I miss you the most of all, and I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I have so much I want to say and catch up on. If you want, can we hang out later, and I’ll answer anything you want to ask?” I unwrap myself from his torso, and slowly slide down, bringing his face with me. His thick beard feels soft in my hands. I want to kiss him so badly– anything to take me back to where we left off.

He hesitates and my stomach flutters. Finally, he says, “I’d like that.” His lips pull back slightly into a soft smile. I hold his face between my hands, not wanting the moment to end. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach refuse to settle as he leans in closer. He doesn't reject my touch, encouraging me to come closer, while I was in the mood to have him smother me with his body, I bring my arms around his torso. His long muscular arms wrap around my shoulder, and he holds me there. His chin resting on my head.

“Sorry to interrupt guys, but we gotta start walking down now.” One of the WWE officials informs us, my body jolts in surprise, I got lost in Drew, and I’s reunion that it didn’t occur to me that we actually have a job to do. I’ve never been one for PDA, and though we weren’t doing anything inappropriate, I still felt exposed. I drop my arms from Drew’s waist causing them to flop at my side, he, however, holds onto me for a second longer, and lets me go. Reluctantly, he peels his eyes away for a second to nod his head, but that intense gaze of his returns right back to me before I get a chance to exhale. He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it.

The walk from the hallway to the front of the backstage area is silent. As we get closer to the Gorilla, more people show up throughout the halls. “Alright, show time.” I sang in a melodic rhythm. As we approach the curtain, I catch a glimpse of Hunter staring at us with this expression I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“See ya out there, princess.” Drew spoke so only I could hear him. It’s not until I feel his warm hand squeeze mine did I realize we had walked all the way down here fingers interlaced.. I look over to Hunter and sure enough that was the reason for his odd reaction to us. His eyebrows pull upwards, the corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a smirk. I can feel my face getting hot. I know he won’t go blabbing to everyone what he just witnessed, but Colby knowing about Drew and I’s situationship is already one person too many.

Choosing to ignore it, I stand by the monitor and watch the events unfold. The Miz’s segment was always used as a tool to get the pot stirring between superstars, and boy is he good at stirring the pot. Colby and Drew seem to be going back and forth about whether or not Drew was worthy enough for a title shot. “You think you’re too good to face me? What, am I not cool enough for ya, Seth? I know I’m no Jey Uso, I know I don't come out here dancing every night, shaking hands, and kissing babies. So let’s get real Seth, look me in the face like a man, and just admit that you’re scared to face me. You’re scared to face me because you see how I turned your friend Roman Reigns inside out with a Claymore straight to the face!” Drew leans forward in his seat, the roar of the crowd rings throughout the whole of the arena from Drew’s call back to his match against Roman two years ago for the undisputed champion title. The tension between them is palpable, I begin to jog in place as I stand near the Gorilla, switching my weight from one foot to the other. Colby parts his lips to speak, but Beaky cuts him off, her voice coming out with a nonchalant arrogance. “Maybe you’re just not man enough.” The crowd goes crazy. I roll my eyes letting out a chuckle, Drew inhales deeply trying to retain his focus. Or rather trying to not lose his temper, and give into his anger, that’s the other side of the coin with him. He could be the sweetest, a complete gentleman, but man oh man is his patience thin. Colby cackles, throwing his head back with his mouth wide open.

Becky takes this as an opportunity to capitalize on, and really amp things up. “I mean, aren’t you supposed to be the Chosen One? And what exactly were you chosen for – to fail?” I felt second-hand embarrassment by her words, she’s really on a roll lately, and I can’t help but feel proud. She’s come such a long way, especially on the mic, and dare I say she could do this whole promo by herself ? Drew stands from his chair, Colby, and Becky follows suit. Drew throws his microphone to the ground, his composure long gone. They are beyond talking, the shouting match is now on the brink of a physical altercation. Becky pushes her way past Colby, and shoves Drew in the chest as hard as she can. Her improvisation threw them all for a surprise – Drew’s eyes widened, I wasn't sure what his next string of words were, but Colby sure as hell didn't seem to like it. By the time they hit my music, Miz had already exited the ring, and is now watching from the commentary table.

Spitbrain ft. Willow—Purge

Purge, you can't take it away

Purge, you can't take it from me

Sink into the dark, I can't seem to find myself (Oh, oh)

I tried to come back but it's so hard (Oh, oh, oh, oh)

I don't know the truth anymore, perspective shattered to the floor

Fucking up like most of the time, coming to terms with all of my lies, not taking advice (I don’t really wanna know)

Tryna find my way to the light, through traps in my mind, it's gonna be fine, it's gonna be fine

My entrance music blasts through the arena, and the crowd pops for me harder than I had expected. I dance my way to the ring, slapping hands with a few fans, and waving to some. An official sitting by ringside hands me a mic before I climb in between the ropes that Drew is kind enough to hold open for me. As I stand from my bending position, our gazes meet, his eyes are on fire. I slap him on the chest playfully, and he flexes his pectoral muscle. ‘Show off.’ I think to myself, not nearly as annoyed as I pretend to be. Instead of acknowledging Becky and Colby, I turn towards the crowd. I climb to the top turnbuckle and the audience jumps to their feet, shouting and clapping. I make sure to show the other three sides of the crowd the same love before I come to a halt between Drew, Becky, and Colby. Before speaking I revel in the reaction of the crowd for a moment longer, then bring the mic to my lips, “I guess you ran out of female competitors huh, Becks?” My face morphs into an expression of feigned confusion, and my heart thudded with an unexplainable excitement, but I pull myself back to reality before I spiral too far.

Becky smirks, “pretty much – I mean, ever since I made you tap, the competition has been slim. How’s the knee by the way? Must have been hard recovering something that's been smashed to thousands of bits by a steel chair.” She gloats haughtily, her lips turned upward into a sly smirk. My head drops; I re-enter the darkness of those twelve months. Becky’s words stung, reminding me that I let my ego get in the way, I was so desperate, I needed the fans to love me because I earned it, and not because my fathers last name is attached to the main event.

Colby could be heard from behind Becky, “Ohhhh!” Ever so quietly, I cough as an attempt to not break character, and laugh.

“Crazy, because I’ve been gone for a year, and some change. But you have not challenged Rhea for the title yet, it seems to me that it’s you that ain't man enough, Becky. Sigh, I guess you were just riding the wave till I returned so you could hop onto my coat tails, and use me for clout like you always do. I mean, when’s the last time you had an original thought? Your merch should start sayin ‘Seth’s Mini Me’, instead of ‘The Man.’” I was starting to feel that fire burning at my core, the fire that’s gotten me through some of my toughest days of recovery. “All you are is a one trick pony, and I think your show has already played its last episode!” I don't give her a chance to react, I drop the mic, and kick her in the gut. I turn to grab her head into a reverse headlock, and then drop her into a Stunner. Following my lead, Drew pushes Colby, he goes for a counter, bouncing off the ropes, but Drew catches him mid way with Glasgow Kiss straight to the skull. The sound of two skulls connecting like that is enough to make a person vomit, but I’m too lost in the moment to care. Colby drops immediately after Drew’s head butt, the crowd roars to life, and I’ve never felt more alive in my life. I snatch a mic off the floor, “If you think you still got it in you, Becky, how about the two of us duke it out for a title shot against Rhea! You know where to find me when you regain consciousness.” I threw the mic down, and look out into the crowd. My music plays, Becky musters the strength she has left to pull Colby out the ring, and they both stumble up the ramp. I turn to see Drew’s forehead is bleeding, I’m a little worried at first, but he’s already enveloping me into a bear hug lifting me up off my feet. Still bleeding, Drew held the ropes open for me again, and we made our way up the ramp. His harm is long enough to wrap around me twice.

When we make it back behind the curtain, the medical team is waiting with all types of tools to put Drew back together. I stand to the side for a moment to let them work, but I start to feel awkward being of no help, so I turn to leave. I don't get far before his hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. He holds me in a firm grip, and with one eye open he says, “Come find me.” He doesn't let me go till I nod my head confirming that I indeed hear him, and promise to find him after all the hype has calmed down. He slowly let me go. Our fingertips graze each other, the electricity that sparks between us sends a shiver down my spine right between my thighs. Even if my mind has forgotten Drew, my body hasn’t.

I finally made it to the locker room to prepare for our tag match later tonight. Becky is already ahead of me as she stands in front of her locker half dressed. There’s quite a few other women scattered throughout, but they all seem to be in the zone so to speak. Bayley nods her head in my direction but nothing more, so I respect her space and throw her a smile from a distance. “How you feelin’?” Becky turns to me, a soft smile on her lips, I want to answer honestly, but I’m not in the mood to make a display of myself while everyone is around to listen.

“Feelin’ like money, as always. The boys looked good out there, especially Colby, you gotta get me in contact with his stylist.” Swiftly, I change topics. I know she’d ask me for a third time later, so I decide to save it till then. Taking the hint thankfully, Becky’s can-do attitude amps back up and the mischievous smirk from earlier is back. She bounces on her tiptoes, then beats her chest before responding.

“Yeah we’ll see about that, DeeDee, all money on me tonight.” She laughs with her mouth open, and head thrown back. My heart flutters with joy knowing our dynamic is the same as it was before I left. I had put her in a tough spot with that whole WrestleMania ruse. I stride over to my duffle bag to pull out my ring gear, smiling to myself, proud that it came out exactly how I drew it. I sort of got inspiration from Mugler, and just ran with it. An all black leotard, with leather, and sequence detailing. I step my legs through my tights carefully so as not to rip them, then I pull on my gear over that, and sure enough it fits like a glove. The sleeves are made of mesh with sequins, that I glued on one by one throughout the entire sleeve. I top it off with a pair of black Jordan 11. Now that I’m finally suited up, I feel like I’m officially back, and I take a moment to bask in it. My phone suddenly buzzes from inside my bag, when I see who’s texting me it’s Drew. My breath hitches, seeing his name flash across my screen, made my face heat up, and the good memories outweighs the guilt of me ignoring all his calls last year. I shake my head to clear the impending depression, and tap on his text.

Drew🧸: Where are you?

I quickly shoot him a text that I just got done getting ready, a moment passes before he replies.

Drew🧸: Come find me when you’re done getting ready.

I can’t hold back the smile when I see his reply, his voice in my head as I reread it. Knowing him, he's exactly where I found him before– he takes his pregame very seriously, and doesn’t like to be bothered. Fortunately for me, I'm an exception to that rule. It was a little tricky finding that same hidden hallway seeing as my starting point is from a different side of the arena. After walking around aimlessly for a little bit I finally find him on his own, with his headphones over his head. He’s doing wall push ups. Slowly approaching him, I just stand and admire for a while. The way his arm muscles flexes as he pushes himself off the wall reminds me of the way he used to use my body as weights for fun, our unhinged version of foreplay because workouts always led to sex. I get lost in the memories for a moment, then, “You’re going to have to stop biting your lip like that.” Drew’s soft, yet deep voice pulls me back to reality in time to notice how much closer he’s gotten to me. No matter how long we’ve known each other, I still haven't quite gotten over his size, 6 '5, 275lb, I’m always having to look up at him when we're this close. ‘They don't build ’em like this in America.’ I think to myself. He flexes his pectoral muscles as he takes a few more steps towards me, I drop my head, suddenly feeling embarrassed for drooling. He reaches out to grab my chin gingerly, as if he might break me if he’s any rougher.

“Don’t look away from me.” He demands softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his resolve is one of the things that caught my attention. For such a large man, he can be incredibly tender and I don't know what is about that that turns me on so much.

“How do I look?” I ask awkwardly, he doesn't break his intense gaze as he quickly gives me a once over, then he steps back for a moment. I felt naked, and on display, his eyes slid over each detail. He slows to a temporary stop at my chest, you couldn’t see much of anything with the way the designs cover me, but the size of my breast is prominent. His gaze lingers before he continues to move down my body, he tilts his head to the side, a pensive expression passes over his face, and at this point I wasn’t sure if he was still present. I jolt a little at the sound of him suddenly speaking.

He twirls his index finger, “Give me a 360.” On cue, I slowly turn, giving him the full display of my gear. I feel his eyes taking me in from head to toe, one hand on his hip, and the other on his chin, scratching his beard. I bring my leg out and lift my foot up for him to see my shoes. He nods his head, and a look of impression crosses his face.

“Oh, nice touch with the Jordan’s. You look great, Rey, absolutely gorgeous.” He compliments me, and I come in closer, my hands pressing to his chest, and slowly sliding up to his neck. Or at least as far as I can reach. His arms wrap around my waist, and his hands slide up my back before coming to a rest on my lower back. I originally came here to talk, but as usual, my mind and my body are not on the same page. “We could pick up right where we left off, but I think we’re going to have to work at it very slowly, is that okay with you?”

Like an idiot, I moan in response. I’m at a loss for words; the only thing I can compute is how his hands feel on body. He finds a tiny opening of skin on the back of my neck where the zipper to my outfit stops. He takes my response as a sign to keep going, pressing his lips to my neck, and I don’t protest. Instead, I tilt my head back, giving him the space he needs. I feel him kiss the shell of my ear; Drew inhales my scent deeply, “You’re such a good girl, that’s why you always get so much attention from me, even if you made me wait a whole year before I could see you again.” His hand slides between my thighs, caressing me over the fabric of my gear, and I’ve never wanted to rip off my clothes for a man so badly in my life. “Which means, it’s only fair that I do the same.” The meaning of his words don't hit me until he fully steps away, withdrawing his hand and everything. As if I could look any more dumb than I do right now, he boops me on the nose, and walks away with a devious smirk on his face. Leaving me to simmer in my own juices.

[ourshadowstallerthanoursoul]

On this day... - June 13th

On this day Led Zeppelin performed:

+ 1969 : Town Hall in Birmingham, UK

“According to the ads, the only way to fly is by Led Zeppelin. On Friday night at Birmingham Town Hall, at the start of a five-date tour, the group certainly took off all right. The passengers were Bloodwyn Pig, the Liverpool Scene and a full house. An almighty wall of sound and a huge crashing of drums signaled the start of the group’s act which eventually overran by quite some time.” – ‘Zeppelin Fly High’ by R. Green (NME)

+ 1972 : The Spectrum in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA

“The histrionics of the band members, the awesome pretension of their loudness and stage antics, made it clear that several elements go into “superstar” concerts. First, of course, is the music. To fill a hall the size of the Spectrum […] huge amplification systems are needed. Every little instrument, even the hi-hat on the drum kit, must have a microphone place next to it. What happens then is that a little sound, such as a tambourine being shaken, becomes a mighty apocalyptic noise, louder than if the sky were to fall. Everything, in other words, gets bigger and louder and seemingly more important. Then, the ambience of the hall and the people in it is important. With about 17,000 people on hand, rock-festival-like hassles are inevitable. […] And the huge throng, which carpets the mammoth hall, makes demands on the musicians for showmanship and song selection that no one could possibly fulfill. […] Zeppelin played for two-and-a-half hours last night, a rarity. But the overall impression was that they sailed flashily and mightily, but failed somehow to engage, working below the level when the brain gears in.” – ‘Led Zeppelin’s music needs the Spectrum’ by W. Mandel (Bulletin)

+ 1977 : Madison Square Garden in New York, New York, USA

“Down in the arena, it was after eight and the crowd knew it. There was wild cheering after every song on the public address system and waving of flags and banners. […] The massive garden was already alive with a frenzy it would not lose until after midnight. […] Coming almost exactly halfway through the performance, the acoustic set was Zeppelin’s surprising non-surprise. It was surprising because, aren’t these guys the terrible overlords of heavy metal? And yet not surprising because we had all been clued in to this unexpected turn of events. […] Kashmir brought the crowd back to rock reality, as the thunderous Zeppelin epic reverberated through the Garden. […] And for the umpteenth time, Stairway to Heaven knocked ‘em cold. Their ‘song of hope’ is a song that no Zep audience could leave without hearing, for everyone needs the kind of wishful wondering that Stairway has to offer. The crowd was spellbound and did not seem to notice, or care that Plant forgot several verses. The song was there, and that was more than enough.” – ‘Led Zeppelin’s Garden party’ (Sunday Magazine)

[fans4wga]

Support striking workers in Hollywood!

[ID: Tweet from WGA member Joelle Garfinkel @/msjoellegarf that says, "We currently have $2275.66 in the fund for this event and the 100+ waiting for a grocery grant. Can we get that number to $5k by this weekend? Please click the below links if you're able to donate!

Venmo: http://venmo.com/joelle-garfinkel

Paypal: https://paypal.me/greenenvelopeaid?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US

#solidarity"

Attached is a poster for the Sunday Solidarity Brunch on an orange and green background. Text reads:

@/wgastrikeunite and @/actorempowermentsummit present Sunday Solidarity Brunch

A day of thanks and giving for the entertainment community

WGA, SAG, IATSE, DGA, PGA, TEAMSTERS, SUPPORT STAFF WELCOME!!

FREE MEAL, GROCERIES, HEADSHOTS

ON-SITE FOOD & FINANCIAL RESOURCES

GROCERT MONEY & GIFT CARD GIVEAWAY

ARTISTRY & INDUSTRY PANELS | LIVE MUSIC AND MORE

*Supplies available first come, first served. Please RSVP via the link in bio

Sun, Nov 12th | 12-5pm Houghton Hall NYC, 22 E 30th St (30th and Madison)

(Included in the bottom of the poster are logos for WGA STRIKE UNITE, Actors Federal credit Union, Actor Empowerment Summit, Houghton Hall Arets Community, and WGA East). end ID.]

[kooktrash]

hey now that the requests are open i would like to ask you for a part 2 of fighting heart ???!!!!! Maybe her family dealing with the relationship, lots of jk being whipped for y/n of course, him being happy for once???? (hes been through a lot). I was thinking maybe a scene with y/n being jealous since he is a boxer and theres a lot of girls into him (??) and some smut plss. (never made a request before so i hope this is okay)

idk if you wanted fluff but it’s what fighting heart!jk deserves 😤

fighting heart | jeon jungkook

REQUESTS OPEN

warnings: 1.4K words. fluff. just fluff.

also no smut, but I do have other FH!JK requests with smut so don’t you worry

Jungkook had never worn such an expensive suit in his life. It was more than three times his rent and just being in it made him feel like he was betraying his family. The money used for the suit should’ve gone toward paying off their debt, but it didn’t. He was actually happy it didn’t, he can’t remember the last time anything was done for him. It definitely wasn’t before you came into his life.

You’re the one who got him this suit anyway, it was a present for his first mini press conference. At first he rejected it, he’s still waiting for the day he can do things for you instead of the other way around but soon he’ll get there. He’s already gotten so many calls for agencies but he’s sticking to his roots. He’s keeping Jin around, and his usual team of rough housers. He’s even brought Hoseok along in his journey as his trainer and he couldn’t be happier and nervous at the same time.

He was on stage, a few reporters in front of him and camera flashes highlighting the bruise on his eye. He’s still getting some good hits but his defense has definitely improved since he started training correctly. He squinted with the brightness of the light but he tried to speak through a shaky voice, “You know, I’m grateful for everyone here tonight and honestly, I wouldn’t even be up here if it wasn’t for my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n L/n.”

An eruption of cheers echoed through the walls of the banquet hall as Jungkook then pointed his hand to the person next to you, “And of course, Mr. L/n for providing me with this opportunity to grow as a fighter—“ more cheers “—and for creating the person I love.” Some laughter at that.

Everyone was loud in the way they cheered but it wasn’t a surprise. The press conference was being held at one of the many L/n hotels. This is technically the first time Jungkook has met your father and he’s praying that his win tonight was enough to impress the man to approve of your relationship. By the time the questions came to an end, he was immediately bombarded by spectators who watched the fight.

You stood back letting him get some limelight as your father was next to you and Jin on the other side. You looked up at him nervously, he’s let you organize this event but he’s yet to tell you how he really feels about your boyfriend. He took a stride toward Jungkook who was surrounded by new fans waiting for his autograph—something he never experienced before—but with his growing presence in the media and industry, he’s becoming popular quick.

Jungkook looked up nervously, “Sir—“

“You did good tonight Jungkook,” your father said sternly, “You’ve brought in a lot of press for the hotel and I’ve gotten offers to sponsor more fighters. You also seem to be treating my only daughter well… You aren’t the type I expected Y/n to want to be with.”

Jungkook’s heart was racing listening to the man continue. “But, I can see that you value her and appreciate everything she’s helped you with.”

“Dad…” “I do sir,” Jungkook admitted before you could tell your dad to cut things short, “I love Y/n with my everything.” You smiled shyly as he said that. Your dad seemed pleased, “I’m looking forward to sponsoring you in the future, Jungkook, and you’re welcome to join us on our trip to New York next month, we’ll schedule a visit to Madison Square Garden.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the prospect, eyes shifting to yours as you gave him a proud smile. Your dad turned toward Jin, “Come on, let’s work to write up a contract for upcoming fights.” Jin nodded, giving a thumbs up to Jungkook and following after him. Jin was going to be his main manager and with his law degree help, he’ll be able to find him all the right resources he needs.

You went to join Jungkook, finally, when you were cut off by a group of girls who flocked around him like pigeons. They were in his face telling him how good he was, how hot he was, if he could sign an autograph. Jungkook looked overwhelmed, struggling to speak and you just watched.

“Wow, you’re so fit, you handled your opponent so well.”

“If you need someone to take care of all your wounds, I’ll give you my number, feel free to call me at any time.”

“Do you sign autographs? Can I get your signature?”

It was unbelievable, truly. These women must have completely tuned out the part where Jungkook mentioned you in the conference, or even now that he had talked to your father. They turned a blind eye to you, throwing themselves at Jungkook and you weren’t having it.

Without thinking, you pushed through the crowd of at least six women and joined him. Immediately he wrapped an arm around your waist noticing the cute furrow in your brows and pout on your lips. He visibly frowned, eyes softening and that little sparkle appearing in his irises, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m going to have to share you now with all your new fans,” you said in a whiny voice that only someone spoiled would use. He looked at the girls around him who had stepped back but were still clearly hovering. He pulled you into his chest, “Awe baby, I’m only ever going to be yours, fans or no fans.” He whispered as he tilted your chin up to plant an extremely soft kiss on your lips.

You smiled, eyes closing for a second as he did it again, and then another one. He kissed your cheek making you smile, then your other cheek. He pressed a kiss to your nose, and forehead, speeding up his pace as he bombarded your face and neck with little pecks of a kiss. You couldn’t help but laugh, fighting him off but he only hugged you tighter, “Jungkook,” you whined when you heard the clicking of cameras again, all aimed toward the two of you.

He smiled, finally stopping but holding you close. You just smiled, “My dad likes you, and now I’m so excited for you to stay at my apartment in New York!”

“Yours?” He asked, making you nod, he looked back to where your father had just walked off to me, “Does he really like me? I wanted to impress him so badly but I was so nervous up there. You know I’ve never been in a situation like that.”

“Yes, he liked you, silly,” you said, fixing his suit, “Plus you looked so handsome up there nobody even noticed you were nervous.” He smiled, feeling his heart swell with warmth and shyness as he dug his face into your hair. A huge, scary, fighter like Jungkook, shy when you compliment him.

“Oh and I’d like to say, welcome,” his brows furrowed in confusion as you smirked, “To the Nepo life. My dad’s going to work all his connections to get your career up there.”

“Baby, I don’t want you or him to feel like I’m usi—“ “I know! But you’re a good fighter, all you need is the good connections, everything else you’re doing on your own. You’re the one stepping into the ring, you’re the one at the press conferences, you’re the one in the media. Everything is you, since the beginning. Since Jin saw the potential in you, not of what he could make you.”

Jungkook listened to your words of affirmation, always feeling like enough whenever you talked to him. He smiled softly as you leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek. It was wet, traveling toward his ear as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

You nipped at his earlobe, “And you’re free to use me… however you want, especially if my clothes are off.”

He visibly shuddered, looking around nervously to see if anyone can see what you’re doing to him. The only person he saw staring was Hoseok, who flashed him a thumbs up and some facial expressions that told Jungkook the guy knew what was happening between you too.

He took your hand, “Let’s go, I want my real prize for winning tonight.”

“Your real prize?” You asked, following after him, little kitten heels clacking with each step on the marble floor. He nodded, giddy as he said, “You.”

taglist: @nikkiordonez12 2 @blushblossomsblog @fandems @whosaero o @purpleunicorn051 @rerefundslocals s @shaybts-blog @hobiseightbracelet t @beautifulsunghoon @piscesbunnny @bitemejjk: @asking4-sanity @guvgguk @jiminshi20 @thvhoe @notmyfaultbutours @kimyishin @libra04 @cherrysainttt @potatocheesebites s @zaedynnn @thvlover @thvlover7 idk @kooromiwrld @saweetspoiled @sugaluvmyg @cherrymonlightt

[sophs-style]

sophs-style:

Vanity Fair and TikTok celebrated Vanities: A Night for Young Hollywood In Los Angeles event on Wednesday (8th March 2023), in Hollywood. Many young stars were in attendance.

Julia Garner, Gessica Kayane, Halle Bailey, Madeline Brewer, Chloe Rose Robertson, Lydia Hearst, Odeya Rush, Olivia Holt, Madison Bailey and Michelle Randolph.

[yourreddancer]

Heather Cox Richardson 10.30.24

On Friday, October 25, at a town hall held on his social media platform X, Elon Musk told the audience that if Trump wins, he expects to work in a Cabinet-level position to cut the federal government.

He told people to expect “temporary hardship” but that cuts would “ensure long-term prosperity.” At the Trump rally at New York City’s Madison Square Garden on Sunday, Musk said he plans to cut $2 trillion from the government. Economists point out that current discretionary spending in the budget is $1.7 trillion, meaning his promise would eliminate virtually all discretionary spending, which includes transportation, education, housing, and environmental programs.

Economists agree that Trump’s plans to place a high tariff wall around the U.S., replacing income taxes on high earners with tariffs paid for by middle-class Americans, and to deport as many as 20 million immigrants would crash the booming economy. Now Trump’s financial backer Musk is factoring in the loss of entire sectors of the government to the economy under Trump.  

Trump has promised to appoint Musk to be the government’s “chief efficiency officer.” “Everyone’s going to have to take a haircut.… We can’t be a wastrel.… We need to live honestly,” Musk said on Friday. Rob Wile and Lora Kolodny of CNBC point out that Musk’s SpaceX aerospace venture has received $19 billion from the U.S. government since 2008.

An X user wrote: “I]f Trump succeeds in forcing through mass deportations, combined with Elon hacking away at the government, firing people and reducing the deficit—there will be an initial severe overreaction in the economy…. Markets will tumble. But when the storm passes and everyone realizes we are on sounder footing, there will be a rapid recovery to a healthier, sustainable economy. History could be made in the coming two years.”

Musk commented: “Sounds about right[.]”

This exchange echoes the prescription of Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon, whose theories had done much to create the Great Crash of 1929, for restoring a healthy economy. “Liquidate labor, liquidate stocks, liquidate the farmers, liquidate real estate,” he told President Herbert Hoover. “It will purge the rottenness out of the system. High costs of living and high living will come down. People will work harder, live a more moral life. Values will be adjusted, and enterprising people will pick up the wrecks from less competent people.” 

Mellon, at least, was reacting to an economic crisis thrust upon an administration. Musk is seeking to create one. 

Today the Commerce Department reported that from July through September, the nation’s economy grew at a solid 2.8%. Consumer spending is up, as is investment in business. The country added 254,000 jobs in September, and inflation has fallen back almost to the Federal Reserve’s target of 2%. 

It is extraordinarily rare for a country to be able to reduce inflation without creating a recession, but the Biden administration has managed to do so, producing what economists call a “soft landing,” rather like catching an egg on a plate. As Bryan Mena of CNN wrote today: “The US economy seems to have pulled off a remarkable and historic achievement.” 

Both President Joe Biden and Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris have called for reducing the deficit not by slashing the government, as Musk proposes, but by restoring taxes on the wealthy and corporations. 

As part of the Republicans’ plan to take the country back to the era before the 1930s ushered in a government that regulated business and provided a basic social safety net, House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) expects to get rid of the Affordable Care Act. 

At a closed-door campaign event on Monday in Pennsylvania for a Republican House candidate, Johnson told supporters that Republicans will propose “massive reform” to the Affordable Care Act, also known as “Obamacare,” if they take control of both the House and the Senate in November. “Health-care reform’s going to be a big part of the agenda,” Johnson said. Their plan is to take a “blowtorch to the regulatory state,” which he says is “crushing the free market.” “Trump’s going to go big,” he said.” When an attendee asked, “No Obamacare?” he laughed and agreed: “No Obamacare…. The ACA is so deeply ingrained, we need massive reform to make this work, and we got a lot of ideas on how to do that.” 

Ending a campaign with a promise to crash a booming economy and end the Affordable Care Act, which ended insurance companies’ ability to reject people with preexisting conditions, is an unusual strategy.

A post from Trump last night and another this morning suggest his internal polls are worrying him. Last night he claimed there was cheating in Pennsylvania’s York and Lancaster counties. Today he posted: “Pennsylvania is cheating, and getting caught, at large scale levels rarely seen before. REPORT CHEATING TO AUTHORITIES. Law Enforcement must act, NOW!” 

Trump appears to be setting up the argument he used in 2020, that he can lose only if he has been cheated. But it is increasingly apparent that the get-out-the-vote, or GOTV, efforts of the Trump campaign have been weak. When Trump’s daughter-in-law Lara Trump and loyalist Michael Whatley became the co-chairs of the Republican National Committee in March 2024, they stopped the GOTV efforts underway and used the money instead for litigation. They outsourced GOTV efforts to super PACs, including Musk’s America PAC.

In Wired today, Jake Lahut reported that door-knockers for Musk’s PAC were driven around in the back of a U-Haul without seats and threatened with having to pay their own hotel bills if they didn’t meet high canvassing quotas. One of the canvassers told Lahut that they thought they were being hired to ask people who they would be voting for when they flew into Michigan, and was surprised to learn their actual role. The workers spoke to Lahut anonymously because they had signed a nondisclosure agreement (a practice the Biden administration has tried to stop).

Trump’s boast that he is responsible for the Supreme Court’s overturning of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision recognizing the constitutional right to abortion is one of the reasons his support is soft. In addition to popular dislike of the idea that the state, rather than a woman and her doctor, should make decisions about her healthcare, the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision is now over two years old, and state examinations of maternal deaths are showing that women are dying from lack of reproductive healthcare. 

Cassandra Jaramillo and Kavitha Surana of ProPublica reported today that at least two pregnant women have died in Texas when doctors delayed emergency care after a miscarriage until the fetal heartbeat stopped. The woman they highlighted today, Josseli Barnica, left behind a husband and a toddler. 

At a rally this evening near Green Bay, Wisconsin, Trump said his team had advised him to stop talking about how he was going to protect women by ending crime and making sure they don’t have to be “thinking about abortion.” But Trump, who has boasted of sexual assault and been found liable for it, did not stop there. He went on to say that he had told his advisors, “I’m going to do it whether the women like it or not. I am going to protect them.” 

The Trump campaign remains concerned about the damage caused by the extraordinarily racist, sexist, and violent Sunday night rally at Madison Square Garden. Today the campaign seized on a misstatement President Biden made when condemning the statement from the Madison Square Garden event that referred to Puerto Rico as a “floating island of garbage.” They tried to turn the tables to suggest that Biden was calling Trump supporters garbage, although the president has always been very careful to focus his condemnation on Trump alone. 

In Wisconsin today, when he disembarked from his plane, Trump put on an orange reflective vest and had someone drive him around the tarmac in a garbage truck with TRUMP painted on the side. He complained about Biden to reporters from the cab of the truck but still refused to apologize for Sunday’s slur of Puerto Rico, saying he knew nothing about the comedian who appeared at his rally. 

This, too, was an unusual strategy. Like his visit to McDonalds, where he wore an apron, the image of Trump in a sanitation truck was likely intended to show him as a man of the people. But his power has always rested not in his promise to be one of the people, but rather to lead them. The pictures of him in a bright orange vest and unusually dark makeup are quite different from his usual portrayal of himself.

Indeed, media captured a video of Trump’s stunt, and it did not convey strength. MSNBC’s Katie Phang watched him try to get into the truck and noted: “Trump stumbles, drags his right leg, almost falls over, and tries at least three times to open the door…. Some transparency with Trump’s medical records would be nice.” 

The Las Vegas Sun today ran an editorial that detailed Trump’s increasingly obvious mental lapses and concluded that Trump is “crippled cognitively and showing clear signs of mental illness.” It noted that Trump now depends “on enablers who show a disturbing willingness to indulge his delusions, amplify his paranoia or steer his feeble mind toward their own goals.” It noted that if Trump cannot fulfill the duties of the presidency, they would fall to his running mate, J.D. Vance, who has suggested “he would subordinate constitutional principles for personal profit and power.”

—

[rock-and-roll-hell]

July 25, 1980

Unmasked Tour

Palladium - New York City, NY

Eric Carr's live debut with KIϟϟ wearing the first version of his "Fox" makeup. While heavily featuring the 1979 and 1980 studio albums, it is somewhat strange to consider that the set included three covers: "2,000 Man," originally recorded by the Rolling Stones; "New York Groove," originally recorded by Hello; and "King of the Night Time World," originally performed by the Hollywood Stars (though never commercially released). "Is That You?" while not written by the band had also not been commercially released by the writer or other artists. The only United States "Unmasked" era concert and contemporary performance of material from that album. This show marked the live debut of three songs from "Unmasked" including "Is That You?," "Talk To Me," and "You're All That I Want." The Palladium was the renamed Academy of Music, where KIϟϟ had made their industry debut in December 1973. KIϟϟ spun their appearance at a smaller venue: "It was a night of nostalgia for Ace, Paul and Gene. And a dream come true for Eric Carr. KIϟϟ planned a special performance at the Palladium in New York to introduce Eric to its staunchest home town fans. There was very little publicity. The one-night-only show was mostly a word of mouth affair. Although small for KIϟϟ today, the hall was chosen for sentimental reasons. Most of the fans, as well as the band, were remembering the historic night KIϟϟ played its first important New York performance on that very stage... the show was a resounding success".

From local press: "KIϟϟ performed at the Palladium on Friday night, which was unusual; the group usually plays venues the size of Madison Square Garden. Slipping popularity may account for the Palladium date to some extent, but KIϟϟ could certainly have filled the theater several nights running and chose not to do so. The show's primary purpose seems to have been the introduction of Eric Carr, the new drummer, to the band's hard-core fans. A few diehards yelled for the departed Peter Criss, but not for long. This listener kept trying to remember what Mr. Criss used to sound like, but the effort proved fruitless. Before long, he became accustomed to Mr. Carr, who played a somewhat elaborate drum kit and was sometimes a little floppy but kicked the music along nicely. The band had installed its flashy stage set and resorted to a number of its tried and true visual gimmicks, but with the scale of the event reduced, one tended to focus more on the music. It wasn't bad. It was heavy-handed, macho to an almost comical degree, rife with bombast and excess, everything one expects heavy metal to be, but the playing was tight -- much tighter than the last time the reviewer heard KIϟϟ, at the Garden -- and most of the songs weren't padded with unnecessary solo noodling. Whether KIϟϟ fans will take to Mr. Carr remains to be seen; one would think they'd be satisfied with Gene Simmons's tongue-wagging and fire-breathing and Ace Frehley's flaming guitar. In any event, and for what it's worth, Mr. Carr's addition to the band seems to have been a positive step, though it isn't likely to make KIϟϟ' music 'genuinely important to life'" (New York Times, 7/27/80).

Another: "Carr proved to be a capable drummer but no Peter Criss. The show wasn't quite the visual extravaganza I'd anticipated, nor was it the Sodom and Gomorrah meets 'The Night of the Living Dead' I'd feared. Instead, it seemed like the 'Wizard of Oz' gone awry" (Aquarian).

From a mainstream review: "It was apparent from the appearance and playing of Carr that KIϟϟ one of the most successful rock acts of all times, was not taking any chances with the music or the formula now that original drummer Peter Criss has departed for a solo career... So it was almost the typical KIϟϟ show. But with the new drummer now more in the background, the focus was more on the front three... And although performing on a smaller stage than usual, the show was basically the same" (Billboard, 8/9/80).

From a regional review: "KIϟϟ concerts are a little like Christmas. The anticipation is half the fun, and everyone was up for this one... KIϟϟ crashed through their 20-song set with the delicacy of a chain gang" (London, CT, The Day, 8/1/80).

[d-criss-news]

UPCOMING EVENTS 2023

Tour Dates - http://www.darrencriss.com/tour

A Very Darren Crissmas Tour 2023 http://www.darrencriss.com/averydarrencrissmas2023

November

・Tue Nov 21: Atlanta, GA - Atlanta Symphony Hall ・Wed Nov 22: Charlotte, NC - Knight Theatre ・Fri Nov 24: Charleston, SC - Charleston Music Hall ・Sat Nov 25: Clearwater, FL - Capitol Theatre ・Mon Nov 27: Fort Myers, FL - Barbara B Mann Performance Arts Hall ・Tue Nov 28: Ft. Lauderdale, FL - The Parker ・Wed Nov 29: Orlando, FL - Steinmetz Hall at Dr. Phillips Center

December

・Fri Dec 1: Durham, NC - Carolina Theatre ・Sat Dec 2: Vienna, VA - the Barns at Wolf Trap SOLD OUT ・Sun Dec 3: Vienna, VA - the Barns at Wolf Trap SOLD OUT ・Mon Dec 4: Red Bank, NJ - Hackensack Meridian Heath Theatre ・Tue Dec 5: New York, NY - The Town Hall ・Wed Dec 6: Ridgefield, CT - The Ridgefield Playhouse ・Thu Dec 7: Boston, MA - Emerson Colonial Theatre ・Sat Dec 9: Toronto, ON - Elgin Theatre ・Sun Dec 10: Detroit, MI - Fisher Theatre ・Mon Dec 11: Chicago, IL - Athenaeum Theater ・Tue Dec 12: Madison, WI - Barrymore Theatre ・Wed Dec 13: Columbus, IN - The Commons at Nugent-Custer Performance Hall SOLD OUT ・Fri Dec 15: Northfield, OH - Center Stage at MGM Northfield Park ・Sat Dec 16: Indianapolis, IN - The Cabaret at Columbia Club SOLD OUT ・Sun Dec 17: Indianapolis, IN - The Cabaret at Columbia Club SOLD OUT ・Tue Dec 19: Lexington, KY - Lexington Opera House at Lexington Center ・Wed Dec 20: Nashville, TN - CMA Theatre at the Country Music Hall of Fame