#home values in Nashville

[gretavangroupie]

Voyeur

Word count: 3.5k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Language, Smut, Fluff.

Summary: A new side of Jake comes to life within the walls of your new home. But you may not be the only one who notices.

You hit send, sending the request off to the lab. Releasing a deep sigh from your chest, you push back from your desk and stretch your legs feeling the joints ache for a new position. Your whole body is tired, it's been a long 12 hours. Your phone begins to buzz in your pocket as it vibrates with a text message. A small smile crosses your face when you see Jake’s initials flash across the screen.

JK: Baby, when will you be home?

Glancing at the clock you check the time. 4:05. You flip through the charts you still have to finish and bite your cheek, knowing it's going to be a while. You text him back with the bad news.

You: It’s not looking like any time soon. I still have about 5 charts left to do.

JK: Hmmm, that’s not gonna work.

You: I’m sorry?

JK: I need you to come home, I am dying.

You: Dying?

JK:  I need you.

You: Oh

JK: Baby

You: Why don’t you…

JK: No

You: Jake…

JK: Maybe

You: I will try my best to get these done quickly.

JK: Okay

Placing your phone back in your pocket you get started on the first of many charts. Furiously typing and putting in the values, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket again. 

JK: *Image*

Opening the photo you see a barely clothed Jake laying in your bed, just waiting.

You: Tempting as always Jacob, but the more you text me the longer it's going to take. Shoot, I may have to spend the night in the on-call room if it gets too late…

You enjoy teasing him. You know full well that is not your intention. 

JK: No. Please come home tonight 

You: Love you, see you later.

JK: Love you

JAKE POV

With a huff you put your phone down on the bed. Getting up, you decide to go unpack a few boxes while you wait. You had just bought this big beautiful house together, and you had both been living out of boxes for the past few weeks. You being gone and her working, neither of you really had much time to unpack and get settled. 

This was her last shift this week, and the first time you would both be home for a weekend in what felt like months. It would definitely be the first night you had spent with her this week, only seeing her during the day, and you were desperate for her. You needed her. Feeling your blood rushing to your dick you quickly push the thought of her from your mind, before you have to take care of it yourself. 

No. Wait for her.

You maneuver your way through the maze of cardboard moving boxes, making your way to the front living room. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow onto the dark, charcoal walls. Surveying the amount of boxes left to unpack, you sigh. This is going to take a while. 

You had no problem getting your music loft set up, but the living room, and even worse the kitchen… seemed daunting. Grabbing one of the boxes near the door, you drag it across the floor and over to the couch. You sit down, and grab your knife out of your pocket, slicing the tape on top.

As you open it up and peer inside you see your record collection, sitting and waiting to be placed in its new home. You spend the next thirty minutes, alphabetizing and placing the collection on the built-in shelves. One of the things you loved about this home was the unlimited amount of places to store things. It is old, one of the oldest in Nashville. That was part of its charm. When you came to look at the house it spoke to you instantly. It had stories in its walls begging to be told. Within five minutes you knew it was the one and when she told you how much she loved it, you had no choice but to put in an offer on it immediately. Two long days were spent waiting to hear if your offer was accepted, and finally it was. It was yours. Both of yours. 

Once all of your records sat happily on the shelves, you moved on to the next box which was full of books, awaiting their similar fate. You began the process of unpacking them, and organizing them on the shelf. 

You had only unpacked two boxes but it felt like 40, with all of the back and forth trips between the shelves and the box. Sitting down on the leather chair in the corner, you cross your leg over your knee and pull out your phone to see if she had texted you, but you were met with nothing. A groan leaves your chest at the uncertainty of knowing when she would be home. You’ve never felt this desperate and pathetic in your entire life.

Standing up, you break down the two boxes, and make your way to the trash can outside to put them into the recycling bin. On your walk back inside you see your neighbors in the front yard, and you wave to them with a quick smile. You make a mental note to go over and introduce yourself now that you were home to do so. 

The sun is setting rapidly, the house growing dark. The dark paint on the walls further darkened each room. It was moody, and gothic. Everything you ever wanted in a home. A place that was truly yours.

You step into your front door, and turn on the small lamp that sits at the entryway. You make your way through the first level of the house turning on various lamps, so that when she does get home, she doesnt stumble over all of the boxes and clutter. You walk back to the book shelf in the living room, grabbing a book that caught your eye earlier. You had bought it to read on tour, but it was always so loud on the bus, you never got a chance. You head up the stairs into the loft, and position yourself on the plush leather couch, finding a comfortable position. But as soon as you crack the book open you realize the readers you so desperately need are downstairs in your bedroom. 

With a grumble you stand up with your book, making your way back down the stairs. Stepping into your bedroom you see them sitting on the dresser, and you put them on, flopping yourself down onto the fluffy white sheets. The soft orange glow of the streetlight pours in through your large bedroom window. But the light is not enough for you to legibly make out the letters on the pages. You reach over and turn on your lamp, letting it turn the room a soft amber. Opening the first page you are instantly sucked in, and find the time passing quickly. 

Six chapters in you feel your phone buzz on the bed. When you see her name flash across the screen you quickly open it. ‘Be home soon’. Eliciting an audible “Finally.” from your lips.

You get up and walk to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it get hot. Steam begins to fill the small master bathroom as you strip down. You grab a towel from the linen closet and then step into the scalding hot water. Letting the water run down your back you wet your hair before lathering in the fancy shampoo she insists you start using, which you will admit smells pretty good.

You scrub your body with her favorite body wash, hoping to entice her further. Trying to keep it short you rinse yourself and turn off the water. Wrapping yourself in the clean towel.

You step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, looking outside the large picture window that sits directly behind your bed. Yet another thing you loved about this house was the grand windows. More than double the size of an average window, it filled the rooms with plenty of natural light. You insisted that you not cover the windows with any blinds or curtains, letting as much light flow into the house as possible. You lived on a quiet street, so you never really thought about what people might see in the dark of the night, but if you were being completely honest, it didn't matter to you if they did.

You stand in front of the floor length mirror and as you button the few buttons on your shirt. You hear her car pull into the driveway and you can't help the smile that crosses your face. Running your fingers through your damp hair, you hang your towel on the back of the bathroom door, and make your way into the kitchen, to uncork a bottle of wine. 

HER POV

Placing your key in the front door, you peer into the glass and see the glow of lamp light scattered throughout the house. You twist the key in the lock and push the door open. It’s quiet other than the sound of a record spinning on the turntable in the living room. The soft crackle of the vinyl is homey, and always reminds you of Jake. You can smell his body wash in the air, and you know he must have just showered.

“Jake?” you call out for him.

“In the kitchen my love.” he replies, and you hear the clinking together of glass stemware.

He always knows what I need…

Your legs carry you into the kitchen, your body naturally gravitating towards him. 

You see him standing at the kitchen counter, graciously pouring the dark red wine into the glasses, before placing the bottle onto the wooden countertop.

He grabs a glass and extends it out to you, as his eyes meet yours, “My love?”

You accept the glass and sip it slowly, tasting the selection of the evening. 

“Hi baby, you smell good.” you say, taking another small sip. “This is good, is this one of the bottles from Italy?” 

“It is, I figured we could enjoy it together. I loved it when I had it then, and knew I had to bring some home to you.” he replies, picking up the bottle to hand it to you.

You inspect the label, in all Italian of course, running your fingers over the embossed paper. 

“You have good taste Mr. Kiszka.” you say, setting down the bottle. His hand finds your waist and circle around you, lacing his fingers together to hold you close to him.

“I like to think so…” he says, craning his face dangerously close to yours.

“You want to tell me why you needed me so badly today?” you ask, a whisper against his lips.

He lets out a small laugh, a smile playing upon his lips, “Well, I haven’t gotten to see you all week. I missed you. I am missing you. I need you. I can’t live without you a second longer.” he says, his words sending goosebumps across your skin. 

His lips press to yours, the taste of the wine still lingering on his tongue. You can feel the urgency in his kiss and you know deep down you want him just as badly as he wants you. 

You pull away, “Jake…I missed you too.” you whisper, returning your lips back to his. You can feel the transfer of energy between the two of you, both of you craving more of each other. His hands start to move, finding their way under your top, ridding your body of the pale blue fabric.

Your hands reach into the unbuttoned section of his shirt, the way you like it, placing your hands on his chest. You slide them upward to tangle into the bottom of his still damp hair. The smell of him wafting into your nose is an intoxicating high. 

A growl leaves his throat as he parts his lips from yours. He takes you by the hand and leads you to the bedroom. You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, letting the fluffy white sheets entice you. You lay back letting them puff up around your arms and you release a deep sigh. When Jake returns to you, he is sans shirt, leaving his silver necklace as the only adornment to his body perfect body. 

He crawls over top of you, hovering his face above yours. His necklace swings between the two of you, a shiny reminder of you he wears daily. 

“Why don’t you show me what you wanted me to come home for today.” you say playfully. 

“It would be my pleasure darling.” he says, pulling the cups of your bra down leaving your bare chest exposed to the cool air of the room. Your nipples harden in response. He rubs his thumb over the taught buds, the look of lust in his eyes drowning out the brown irises. 

“Jake….touch me.” you beg.

At your command his lips attach to your chest as his hands work to rid you of your pants. He works them down your legs as you kick them off onto the floor. You reach between you to grab his hardened dick through the cotton of his boxers. He groans as you wrap your hand around him and stroke him through the fabric.

He pulls away from you long enough to take his boxers off, letting his dick spring free. You sit up off the bed and remove your bra, tossing it to the floor. You stand up and spin him around, having him sit on the edge of the bed. You make your way to your knees below him as your hand finds his base and gently begins to tug upward on his throbbing length. 

He watches down on you as you take him in your mouth. He throws his head back at the sensation and you look up to see his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He groans loudly and you feel the wetness pooling at your core. 

You’ve seen this look on his face before. In fact a lot of people have. It’s the same look as when he hits a note perfectly at the end of a solo. It's his look of euphoria.

You wrap your lips firmly around his cock and you begin to work him, showing him just how much you missed him. When you flick your eyes up to his however, he isn’t looking at you. He is looking at himself. 

The floor length mirror is situated against the corner of the wall facing the bed. He has the best view in the house of what is transpiring. You feel his cock twitch as he watches himself receive what he has been dying for all day. You know he likes to watch himself on stage but this is what really gets him off. Twisting your wrist with each flick of your tongue you feel him start to twitch in the back of your throat. 

He moans loudly as you pick up the pace, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. His breathing starts to become erratic as he nears his finish.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. Let me cum on your tits.” he begs. 

You nod your head as he forces himself further down your throat and you feel the familiar twitching as he pulls himself from your mouth, grasping his own length and stroking himself rapidly as he watches himself in the mirror. His breathing is quick and ragged and a drawn out curse falls from his lips as his release shoots out, painting your chest in hot white ropes. His eyes never leaving the vision of the two of you in the mirror. He throws his head back again in a similar fashion as he struggles to catch his breath. Chest heaving with each breath, sweat running down his neck.

When his gaze finally returns to you he watches as you collect his cum with your fingers, licking them clean. 

“Jesus Christ that was hot.” he says, taking your hand and helping you stand. He pulls you by the hand to fall on top of him, as he rolls you to be underneath him. The flicker of desire in his eyes growing to constant glow.

He slides down your body, grabbing the hem of your panties in his fingers and sling them off your legs. His fingers slide through your slit, collecting your wetness before he brings them to his mouth. 

A groan leaves his chest as he tastes you. “It has been too long. I need you.” he begs, pressing wet kisses to your stomach.

“So have me.” you reply.

You grab his length and align him with your center, as you feel his tip press against your core.

Lights flash into the room as a car turns the corner of your street.

“Wait Jake, the window.” you say.

“What about it?” he asks, pressing into you.

You moan as he fills you completely, and through strangled breaths you reply, “The window, someone will see us.”

He looks down at you, and smiles, “I know. Let em’ watch. Watch me claim whats mine.” he says, fucking into you hard enough to ellicit a scream from your chest. 

His necklace swings like a pendulum quickly between your bodies as his pace quickens. The tips of his hair are damp with sweat as they brush over his shoulders. You whine beneath him as he hits your g spot with ease.

“Feel good baby? You like it when I fuck you so everyone can see?” he asks.

You moan at the thought of it. Something you never considered. With how much he likes to watch himself, you never thought about him getting off to others watching. Maybe that is part of why he looks so good on stage. He is enjoying other people watching him experience pleasure. A surge of wetness pools between your legs as he pulls out and flips you to your stomach. You push yourself up onto all fours as he smacks your ass. 

“Turn around baby, look at yourself in the mirror.” he demands.

You spin around to face the mirror, shuddering at the vision of yourself in the compromising position. 

“Don’t look away, you’re fuckin gorgeous. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” he says. 

He finds his place behind you, and slowly pushes into you, his hip bones pressing deeply into your ass. He groans as you squeeze your walls around him. 

“Fuck, do that again.” he asks, and so you squeeze around him as you meet his eyes in the mirror. 

“Exactly, baby. Watch me fuck you. Look at how good you make me feel. I’m yours. You fuckin own me.” he says, returning to his regular pace behind you as his hair bobs around his shoulders with each thrust. 

As you watch him you start to understand why he likes it. It is kind of hot to watch. It feels almost wrong. A set of headlights flash across the mirror as you see a car pass the window through the reflection in the mirror.

As it passes you feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you. You understand now why he was so adamant about the placement of the mirror when you set up the bedroom. This is what he wanted. He wanted to be able to watch himself, and watch the window. He wanted to see if anyone was watching him. He wanted to see everything, from all angles. 

“You like that Jakey? You like the idea of people watching you fuck?” you ask, panting through each word.

“Fuck yeah I do. Want everyone to see what’s mine. You’re fuckin mine.” he says, punctuating each sentence with a forward thrust. 

You know any passerby is in for the show of their lives, especially since the room is lit by the small lamp on his bedside table. Giving all the meaning to the words ‘picture window’. And what a pretty picture it would be. Thankfully it is late, but East Nashville doesn’t sleep, so the chance is never zero.

As he hits that spot inside, you moan his name. With a few more thrusts he is getting close, you can tell by the movement of his hips. You can feel your walls contracting around him in return.

“Cum for me angel, let everyone see how pretty you are when you cum for me. Show them who you belong to.” he says.

You toss your head back as your release washes over you, leaving you shaking beneath him. His name pouring from your lips like the sweet Italian wine.

With one more thrust he is releasing into you, with forceful grunts. “Fuck….” he breathes out.

He pulls out of you, watching his release drip down your leg. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

You stand and make your way to the bathroom as you tell him you love him too.

You clean yourself up and return to him, laying there still breathing heavily. The glint of the silver metal around his neck reflects on his chest with the rise and fall of each breath. You cuddle up next to him as he turns off his lamp and releases a relaxed sigh. As you both lay there in the darkness you whisper, “Jake?” 

“Yeah baby…” he replies.

“I love where you put the mirror.” you say.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

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[obetrolncocktails]

If this is it now | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 1

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: anger, breakup, sorrow, loneliness--basically everything that comes with a long distance break up.

Summary: It's not like him. It's not like him to not call, or to not text. But then again, after how little you spoke with him over the last few weeks, you were beginning to question if you really did know him.

The sun rose, spilling rays of crisp light upon your bed linens. You watched through squinted eyelids as tiny particles danced aimlessly in the light. To be so careless, drifting to the whims of the room’s draft–it was a peace that now only filled you with loneliness– it was beginning to consume you. Rolling over, you found untouched pillows and rested your head on the cool fabric, yet another indicator of the empty side of the bed. His impression wasn’t pressed into the sheets anymore and his scent no longer lingered about your home. It had been weeks since Josh had made the trip to London to see you. It was a strategic decision the two of you had made knowing that he would be swamped with tour dates and obligations before you both knew it. You knew that it was selfish to feel the way you did, but nothing helped to ease your sorrow.

Since the day he left, you could count the interactions between the two of you on your fingers, losing hope of hearing from him. So many calls went to voicemail, too many texts left unanswered or halted with short-changed responses that filled you with annoyance and longing for his attention. 

“Josh, are you happy?” You send the text message with no follow up. 

The early morning hours passed and you forgot that you had even sent it in the first place. You had moved from your bed to your couch, having trouble making yourself do anything of value. You spent most of the afternoon falling in and out of sleep, flipping through different shows to occupy you.  

“What do you mean, baby?”  You took a while to debate what to send as a response. 

“Nothing, I hope you’re having a good day.”  You withdrew completely. Today was your birthday–and from him? Nothing. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him, and in truth, you didn’t want to. You ached for his touch–anything that would remind you that he actually loved you and more importantly, that he wanted you, but he had forgotten about you. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Can I call you after rehearsal? Shouldn’t last too long tonight.” 

“I’m fine, Josh. I’m tired. Probably won’t be up much longer.”

“Josh? You never call me Josh–I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

You didn’t  respond. Instead, you turned the phone over and set it on the coffee table, rising from the depths of the couch that had been swallowing you, much like the sorrow that had taken over. You brought yourself to take a shower and get dressed, and it did make you feel better, even if it was in the most miniscule way.

You had never felt this disconnected from him. Dread began to leak into almost every moment of the day, tarnishing your mood about almost everything. It was noon in Nashville, the time difference separating you both by seven hours. You knew that his promise would be broken as soon as any good idea filled the rehearsal space. You’d be long forgotten by then. You lost hope of interaction by the time seven PM rolled around in Nashville, setting your phone to ‘do not disturb.’ Your eyes burned from staying up so late for his attention.

“Sorry, baby, Got caught up with the boys–on to something great.”

You left his message drifting unanswered, just like the particles you had watched earlier in the morning, except this time the action was filled with unease and brokenheartedness. You drowned yourself in the nearest shitty bottle of wine you could find, falling asleep halfway into the bottle. Your arms and legs splayed sloppily over the edge of the couch, your tv flashing images upon the pale walls of your living room. You woke up to find your carpeted floor stained dark red, the wine bottle having tipped over from your restless sleep. “Fuck!” You spat the words at yourself. You wobbled to the hallway, grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet and wetting it in the nearest sink before returning to the stain, dabbing at it the best you could. Just as you expected, the stain only feathered into a larger blob as you wiped, ruining the carpet further. “Goddamn it!” You shouted, flinging the dripping rag at the nearest wall, watching as crimson liquid spattered upon the surface before  dripping miserably all the way to the floor. 

Your phone rang just in time to pause your outburst. Josh’s contact picture popped up–it was  a photo of the two of you, him pulling you in from the side, kissing you on your cheek. His eyes pinched closed with a bright smile. The photo that filled you with butterflies now filled you with anger.  You both couldn’t have looked happier in that moment, and it was true. You remembered that day with a longing that tore you apart. 

“Hello,” You said, pulling the phone to your ear. Your voice was coated with grogginess and sleep.

“Hey–I know it’s about two o’clock your time, wanted to check in.” Two?! You pulled the phone from your ear, checking the time. 2:09 P.M. 

“Oh, uh. Wow, didn’t realize it was so late,” you responded, offering a half chuckle. You reached up with a free hand to absently scratch at your scalp. 

“Slept in, didn't you, sleepy head?” Josh’s tone was light. He seemed to be trying today. 

“Yeah, we’ll say that.” Your responses were short and they didn’t give Josh much room to respond, making conversation hard. In truth, you really didn’t care. You wanted him to feel the way that his lack of communication and care had made you feel. 

“So I wanted to say sorry about last night. We got caught up and I just didn’t want to reach out when I knew you’d be aslee–”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off promptly, knowing the script all too well. 

“Y/n,” he contested. 

“I can’t do this today, Josh. I just can’t.”

“You can’t talk to me?” He asked simply, the words setting you ablaze. 

“That’s fucking rich coming from you. You forgot my fucking birthday!” 

There was silence on his end and you were sure he was looking at the date. You waited for him. “Oh my god.” Another silence, then a drawn out sigh. “Y/n. I am so sorry, baby. I-....I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” His voice sputtered nervously, stopping and starting, finally giving up when he had nothing better to say.

“You don’t just fucking desert your girlfriend when you become busy, Josh. Do you realize how selfish that is? You’ve whittled me down to little more than a pen pal.” Both ends of the phone call remain silent for several excruciating seconds. “Even when you were here, you were distant. You couldn’t even focus when we were fucking–” You stopped yourself from drilling further. You had even hurt yourself. 

“I was jet lagged and stressed–dealing with tour preparation, execs breathing down my back. I didn’t mean to-” 

“Cut the bullshit, Josh,” You cut him off mid-sentence. “ Something has changed between us, and it’s fucking killing me. I just don’t know how much longer I can be strung along begging for the attention that you can’t give. Living halfway across the world doesn’t help.” 

“Y/N. Why are you doing this? I love you.” 

“I love you more than you could possibly understand, Josh–But loving me just isn’t enough anymore. I feel unbelievably lonely in this relationship.”

“Are we really doing this over a shitty phone call right now, Y/N? I can fix this. As soon as the tour is over I will come see you.”

“Josh, just stop. You won’t be able to see me until July. I don’t think I can pretend for that long.”

“Pretend to love me?” He asked, growing more and more upset. 

“Pretending to act like this relationship is going to work. The distance is hard enough, but with you touring and making the new album…there’s just no room for me.”

“Y/n, please don’t do this. Not like this.” He pleaded with you through the phone.

 “Goodbye Josh.” There was so much more that you wanted to say, but if you started, you’d never stop crying. It was the last bit of humility that you would keep. 

“Y/n…baby. Y/n? Y–” Your thumb hesitated over the button before you finally ended the call. Though the phone weighed only mere ounces, it felt like a bag of bricks, weighing you down into the floor. 

End of Part 1.

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[ts1989fanatic]

Taylor Swift's fans are renowned for their loyalty and dedication.

Known colloquially as "Swifties," they sell out stadiums in minutes; spend weeks creating intricate outfits that pay tribute to her albums; comb through her lyrics to find Easter eggs and secret messages.

Back in November, the fandom received national attention for taking action after Ticketmaster bungled the Eras Tour presale.

The backlash was so loud and so fervent that the Department of Justice launched an antitrust investigation into Ticketmaster's parent company. The power of Swifties became clearer than ever.

Indeed, the sheer passion of Swift's fans has helped make her the biggest pop star in the world — but that doesn't grant them absolute access to her life and personal space.

Recently, Swift obsessives have been exhibiting overzealous — and frankly concerning — behavior. Videos have circulated online that show swarms of people camping outside her home in New York City and Electric Lady Studios, where she's been spotted working in between tour dates. Other clips show fans chasing her car down the street.

It's one thing to wait for hours in the pouring rain to watch Swift deliver a spectacular concert. That's her job. It's another, more sinister thing to wait for hours on the sidewalk, just to film her car entering her home garage. That's her life.

Swift has been candid about fending off stalkers throughout her career, making this behavior particularly egregious for anyone who claims to care about her well-being.

"My fear of violence has continued into my personal life," she wrote for Elle in 2019. "I carry QuikClot army-grade bandage dressing, which is for gunshot or stab wounds. Websites and tabloids have taken it upon themselves to post every home address I've ever had online. You get enough stalkers trying to break into your house and you kind of start prepping for bad things."

This is not to say that Swift's most fervent fans are all stalkers, but it's easy to see how this behavior could be triggering for someone who's been stalked. And as Swift said in her "Miss Americana" documentary in 2020, "There's a difference between 'I really connect with your lyrics' and 'I'm going to break in.'" Some Swifties clearly need to be reminded of where that line is.

This is also not the first time Swifties have overstepped. Some fans have been known to harass members of the LGBTQ community for analyzing Swift's songs through a queer lens. Others have sent insults and death threats to music critics for less-than-glowing reviews of Swift's music.

Of course, this behavior isn't unique to Swifties. But Swift's lack of admonition is uniquely strange. She has marketed herself as someone who's not afraid to speak up to defend her values, someone who has explicitly condemned homophobes and bullies in her music.

Swift has also said she's proud of her affectionate relationship with fans. She has invited Swifties to her Nashville home for album listening parties; sent personalized notes to celebrate milestones; donated money for college tuitions; protected concertgoers from aggressive security guards.

Unfortunately, a healthy relationship cannot be sustained with affection alone, be it interpersonal or parasocial.

At the risk of sounding like a wannabe therapist, constructive feedback is essential for growth — and when someone you love disrespects your boundaries, it's not constructive to say silent.

This is something that Phoebe Bridgers, Swift's friend and collaborator, knows all too well.

Although Bridgers experiences fame on a vastly different level than Swift, she has also been subjected to abuse and entitlement at the hands of "people with my picture as their Twitter picture."

In a March interview with Them, Bridgers said she was "bullied" in the midst of a speculative frenzy about her dating life — while she was on the way to her father's funeral.

"I've had people take more than I'm giving, and I'm giving a lot," Bridgers recently told the Wall Street Journal. "I'm pretty fucking transparent, because I would value that in someone whose music I liked when I was a kid. Seeing any representation of any feeling and anything true was awesome to me. To be punished for that is so dark."

"There's a higher chance that you'll meet a fan that you hate than a fan that you love," she added. "You're way more likely to be confronted with someone who just violated your privacy."

If these quotes rub you the wrong way, you may be the problem.

Connecting to a person's music does not give you the right to violate her privacy, and Bridgers isn't afraid to draw that line. I wish more musicians would follow suit.

Ahead of Bridgers' final performance at the Eras Tour on Sunday, I hope Swift is able to absorb some of her bravery and wisdom. It's OK to criticize people for bad behavior — and the fans who stick around are the ones worth keeping.

ts1989fanatic

Even the media can get it right on occasion, the recent behaviour by some so called swifties is bordering on STALKING and needs to stop.

Unless we all want to go back to why she disappeared again.

[infragilehearts]

— whoa! VALERIE CHAMBERS just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for 1 YEAR, working as a PART TIME BARTENDER, PART TIME CHEF. that can’t be easy, especially at only 29 YEARS. some people say they can be a little bit SASSY and SNEAKY, but I know them to be COURAGEOUS and FRIENDLY. whatever. I guess I’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to THE BRONX! — (taylor, 25+, EST, they/them, none)

wanted connections | full navi | pinterest | musings blog | full bio -- the group

threads - thread tracker - visuals - musings - aesthetics - likes

— BASICS ☆

full name:;  valerie marianna isabelle chambers

nicknames:;  val

gender:;  born female

pronouns:;  she/her

sexual preference:;  bisexual

relationship role:;  easily submissive, sometimes dominates

birthdate:; november 10th 1994, aged twenty-nine years

birthplace:;  nashville, tennessee & hart, michigan

zodiac sign:;  scorpio

spouse / lover:;  none currently

— APPEARANCES ☆

face & voice claim:;  sofia carson

height:;  5′7″

eyes:;  has chestnut brown eyes – wears glasses at home and contacts when she’s out in the world

hair:;  naturally dark brown

body art:;  has a few tattoos and ear piercings as well as a nose piercing on the left side of her nose

other distinguishing features:;  has a scar on her inner right thigh and on the lower part of her stomach

fashion sense:;  classy, casual, comfy

body type:;  her weight/body type changes but she’s always healthy with the standard more straight (not so curvy) model body

— PERSONALITY ☆

traits:; funny, friendly, clumsy, out-going, sassy, sneaky, bright, courageous

fears:;  not being able to have a future with someone, love, being hurt by someone she trusts

hobbies:;  cooking, baking, reading, dancing, hanging out with friends

skills:;  singing, playing piano, writing poems, cooking, baking, bartending

quirks:;  clumsy, sassy, sometimes bites lip or nails

— FAMILY & CONNECTIONS ☆

mother:;  ramona marciella chambers

father:;  andrew rodrigo chambers

siblings:;  none

children:;  none yet, unsure if she wants any

pets:;  two dogs named snoopy and brownie

— FAVOURITES ☆

ice cream flavour:;  cookie dough & cookies and cream

food:;  shrimp, most pasta dishes, most mexican dishes, most sweets

time of the day / night:;  night

season:;  summer

holiday:;  halloween & christmas

animal:;  dogs, foxes & wolves

colour:;  purple, blue & black

scent:;  freshly baked goodies

musician/band:;  selena, avril lavigne, queen, green day

— OTHER ☆

occupation:;  part time bartender at retro & part time chef at diner

education:;  high school graduate, never did college but took culinary & mixology classes after graduating

bad habits:;  drinking, one some occasions experiments with weed

a cherished item:;  a black gem ring from her mother

random fun fact:;  she doesn’t always wear bras and underwear

random fun fact 2:;  loves having bangs but doesn’t always like the up keep

— BIOGRAPHY ☆

trigger warning:; none yet, will write soon

—- C H I L D H O O D  —-

[coming soon] 

—- BACKGROUND  —-

valerie was born an only child to ramona marciella chambers and andrew rodrigo chambers in nashville, tennessee til she was five years old in which then they moved to hart, michigan and this is where she grow up and lived out the rest of her life. in her teen years she has a history of heartbreaks, trying to find her perfect person. during this time she learned about her sexuality, however. this also lead her to falling into a partying time in her life. she still currently does this from time to time to unwind and just have a good time with friends or even just to feel herself. however, definitely not as much as she used to. valerie values her mum more than anything but she’s lost contact with her father since her mom and him divorced before the move to michigan so she has no connection to him but gets along fine.

once she finished school, her focus really became culinary and she taught herself some of her cooking and baking skills. she took culinary classes to further her learning and she managed to get her first job at a local restaurant. valerie was truly happy and felt in her element with her culinary skills. for a while she lived with her mum, up until her passing. this lead to her hiding in her work for a while and she took up mixology classes to mix as well as serve drinks at the restaurant as well sometimes.

as soon as she could afford it, valerie packed up her life and left michigan, moving out to new york and making herself at home in the bronx. it wasn't the most ideal at first, but she managed to get a couple jobs in the area for her skills. this easily helped her start to feel at home again.

—- C U R R E N T L Y  —-

valerie has managed to live her life rather well in town, even explores as much as she can (mostly of the bronx area) in her free time. she's put all her focus into her work still, but also enjoys meeting people and hanging out as well as reading and a few other hobbies. she tries not to think about her life back home or her mother often but on those hard days, she really keeps to herself or works even more than normal.

[ will try to update as time goes on ]

[singlethreadofgxld]

EDITING TO ADD: Several people have reached out! I’ve offered them to the first person who responded, but if that falls through, I’m going to offer them to people in the order they messaged me. Thank y’all for finding a good swiftie home for these tickets! 😭🫶🏻 I hope each and everyone of y’all are able to find tickets to the shows y’all want!

SWIFTIES! I HAVE THREE TICKETS FOR NASHVILLE NIGHT 2 TICKETS! I WANT TO SELL THEM TO A REAL SWIFTIE FOR FACE VALUE.

I ended up able to buy tickets for Nashville night 2 & 3 because of the added show. I got into the night 2 sale first, but wasn’t able to get the exact seats we wanted. I got into the night 3 sale after that and then I was able to get the seats my friends and I wanted.

SO! I have 3 tickets in section 237 of Nissan Stadium, Row S. PLEASE DM me if you want them and I will figure out how to sell them to you on ticketmaster! If you don’t want them, please reblog anyway so I can find someone who wants them!!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[BANKSY]

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 27, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

OCT 28, 2023

An article this morning jumped out at me. Catherine Rampell of the Washington Post noted that the U.S. economy “looks remarkably good.” A recent stunning jobs report, showing that the economy continues to add jobs at record rates—more than 13.9 million since President Joe Biden took office—along with yesterday’s stunning report that U.S. economic growth grew at an annual pace of 4.9% in the third quarter of this year, puts the U.S. economy at the forefront of most of the world. And inflation is back in the range that the Federal Reserve prefers—it’s at 2.4%, close to the Fed’s target of 2%.

The U.S. is outperforming forecasts made even before the pandemic began for where the economy would be now, even as other countries are worse off. 

And yet, Rampell notes, Americans are about as negative about the economy today as they were during the Great Recession after 2008, when mortgage foreclosures were forcing people out of their homes and unemployment rested at about 9%, more than twice what it is today. In contrast, consumers give high marks to the Trump years, when average growth before the pandemic was 2.5% and the U.S. added only about 6.4 million jobs.

There is a crucial divorce here between image and reality. Americans think our economy, currently the strongest in the world, is in poor shape. They mistakenly believe it was better under Trump.

That profound and measurable disjunction ought to make us sit up and take notice, especially as the Biden administration continues to try to make the economy responsive to ordinary Americans and the country continues to pay little attention. Today, for example, the White House announced an effort to turn the dual problems of empty office buildings and a shortage of affordable housing into a win-win. It announced a series of actions to convert vacant commercial properties to residential buildings. Their efforts are designed to create affordable, energy-efficient housing near public transportation and jobs.  

The importance of identifying the contrast between image and reality in today’s politics showed recently as the meticulous work of Nashville investigative reporter Phil Williams of Tennessee’s NewsChannel 5 appears to have had an important effect on the mayoral election in Franklin, Tennessee. 

While far-right Christian nationalist mayoral candidate Alderman Gabrielle Hanson promised she was “committed to restoring and upholding the wholesome values that have long been the foundation of our city’s identity,” Williams exposed to voters Hanson’s shady history. He showed that Hanson had lied about having multiracial supporters and her ties to white supremacists, highlighted her bizarre behavior, and noted her embrace of Christian nationalism. 

On Tuesday, voters overwhelmingly rejected Hanson and other far-right candidates. Hanson won just 20.6% of the vote to 79.4% for the incumbent mayor. Then, after losing, Hanson apparently had her husband drop off her computer and ID badge at City Hall, abandoning her term as alderman before its November 14th end. 

Such deep investigation stands out in an increasingly turbulent sea of disinformation. Shayan Sardarizadeh of the BBC explained to Hanaa’ Tameez of Neiman Journalism Lab that social media posters on platforms like TikTok, YouTube, or Twitter can make significant sums of money from “engagement farming.” Posting outrageous material that engages viewers pumps up a user’s brand, making them able to command high prices from marketers.  

Sardarizadeh notes that the Israel-Hamas war is a particularly attractive situation for engagement farmers, and rumors and fake videos are flying. 

But there are plenty of opportunities for disinformation at home, too, for political purposes. In Ohio, the Republican-controlled Ohio Senate is using its official government website to push what Associate Press legal and medical experts say is “false or misleading” information against the proposed constitutional amendment the state’s voters will consider in the November 7 election. Their inflammatory language warns, for example, that the measure will “legalize abortion on demand at any stage of pregnancy” and permit “the dismemberment of fully conscious children,” the rhetoric of anti-abortion activists.

Julie Carr Smyth and Christine Fernando of the Associated Press report that Republicans began their “On the Record” blog on the state Senate website after Ohio voters rejected their attempts to make it much harder to pass constitutional amendments. The Republicans bill the blog as an “online newsroom” where voters can find “the views the news excludes.” Republican Senate president Matt Huffman denied that the blog was a news service, but it sits under the “News” tab on the Senate’s website. 

“My [Republican] colleagues say that this is done because the mainstream media won’t print their stuff,” Democratic state senator Bill DeMora told the reporters. “But of course, the mainstream media won’t pick this up because it’s factually incorrect and basically lies.” 

But because the blog appears on an official government website, internet searches turn it up as a reliable source. Laura Manley, executive director of the Shorenstein Center on Media, Politics and Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School, told Smyth and Fernando: “It’s a really strategic way to make something appear to be neutral information and fact when that’s not the reality…. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Finally, after a two-day manhunt, law enforcement officers found Maine mass murder suspect Robert Card dead tonight from a self-inflicted gunshot. Reports suggest that Card had at least a recent history of mental illness and note that his social media accounts show a history of engagement with right-wing and Republican political content.

—

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

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[shefanispeculator]

2017 Blake resigns with Warner   NASHVILLE, Tenn. – (December 21, 2017) – Country music superstar and multimedia entertainer Blake Shelton has long called Warner Bros. / Warner Music Nashville his label home, and last night he inked a deal reaffirming the commitment. Their 17-year partnership has produced accomplishments ranging from 25 No. 1 singles to 10 Gold and Platinum-selling albums, in addition to seven GRAMMY nominations and five CMA Male Vocalist of the Year Award wins. Amongst these other career successes, Shelton’s 2017 Billboard Music Award for Top Country Artist underscores his preeminence in every realm – including album and digital song sales, streaming, radio airplay, touring and social engagement. One of the most visible and constant ambassadors of country music, Shelton has reinforced the genre’s value in front of more than 12 million viewers two nights a week for 13 consecutive seasons and counting as a coach on NBC’s The Voice.

“I remember my first trip to Nashville in 1994,” said Shelton. “I drove down Music Row and don’t know why, but when I passed the Warner Bros. building I said, ‘That’s the label I want to be on!’ Now, all these years later, I’m proud to have spent my entire recording career with such a great company. I look forward to more incredible years with my Warner family.”

The acclaimed recording artist celebrated his resigning yesterday night alongside WMN Chairman & CEO John Esposito, who added: “Blake Shelton is a cornerstone artist for Warner Music Nashville. Blake, Narvel Blackstock and the whole label team put a stake in the ground years ago to prove that Blake was going to do unprecedented things in this business and be the artist to help us bring Warner back to greatness. Blake indeed has and will continue to break new ground. I am thrilled beyond words, and there is no better Christmas present than Blake committing to Warner for many years to come. He is a brother, and I love him and his humanity!”

A staple in the format since his debut in 2001, Shelton’s recommitment demonstrates his unrelenting faithfulness to the country music community. This year showed a similar loyalty to his roots with the release of Texoma Shore. With its traditional-leaning sound and down-home lyrics, the brand new album is his sixth record to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard Top Country Albums chart and 11th all-genre Top 10. Lead single “I’ll Name The Dogs” topped the charts this week at country radio.

His third No. 1 single in 2017 (in addition to “A Guy With A Girl” and “Every Time I Hear That Song”), Shelton’s “I’ll Name The Dogs” wraps a year of unprecedented radio success. In the week following album launch in November, the hit-maker became the first artist in Country Aircheck / Mediabase history to have six songs chart simultaneously. Shelton further proved his continued traction at country radio this week by being named the No.1 most-played artist of 2017. Reigning on both the Billboard and Aircheck year-end airplay charts, the latter also placed “A Guy With A Girl” at No. 3 on its list of 2017’s Top 10 Songs. Shelton will bring these radio favorites and more to fans in 2018 on his headlining “Country Music Freaks” Tour alongside Brett Eldredge, Carly Pearce and special guest Trace Adkins (dates below).

ABOUT BLAKE SHELTON Country Music Association’s 2012 “Entertainer of the Year,” five-time Male Vocalist of the Year winner and GRAMMY nominee Blake Shelton continues to add to his superstar status. He just released his brand new album Texoma Shore, which became his sixth record to debut at No. 1 on the Billboard Top Country Albums chart and marked his 11th all-genre Top 10. Texoma Shore features his latest hit single “I’ll Name The Dogs,” a romantic tune that boasts over 30 million streams and recently became his 25th No. 1 single. In the week following album launch, Shelton became the first artist in Country Aircheck / Mediabase history to have six songs chart simultaneously. Texoma Shore follows 2016’s Gold-certified If I’m Honest, the best-selling country album release of the year, which spawned three chart-topping songs and earned him a No. 1 on both the Billboard Top Country Albums and the all-genre Top Album Sales charts.   A member of the Grand Ole Opry, Shelton has earned a host of awards throughout his career, which most recently include Top Country Artist at the Billboard Music Awards. In 2017 he became the first country artist to win Favorite Album at the People’s Choice Awards in addition to his win for Favorite Male Country Artist. He also took home the trophy for Favorite Country Male Artist at the American Music Awards as well as the first-ever Male Artist of the Year. As a coach for the Emmy Award-winning television show, The Voice, Shelton is a five-time champion, most recently with his contestant Sundance Head.

[aliypop]

That's Alright For Such A Night (Rewrite Chapter 9)

Word Count: 4,118

Writers Note: So far I'm enjoying rewriting this, and Now I'm adding and Rewriting my fanfic series Anyway you do into it to really solidify the timeline.

Warning: mostly fluff / Historic Language and Values/ Smut

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: During the Louisiana Hayride two breakout stars meet in a rush only to learn they've dealt their cards in the hands of fate.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Nashville, Tennessee, April 1960

"Damnit, Cece. You may be the sweetest thing I've ever met." he laughed as he kissed her hand, 

"Mr. Presley." Denise sighed, rubbing her temples, "M'am." he looked back at her, 

"If you'd let my artist work, that would be great." She glanced at him as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Tough crowd, huh?"

"Go, we'll talk about this when I get home." Cecelia smiled. 

"I ain't leavin yet..."

"El!" Cecelia squealed. 

"Not with a better kiss, baby." Cecelia giggled as she got on her tiptoes and kissed him,

 "Coulda asked me to lean over." he smirked, "Like a little teapot." She smirked back at him,

 "You're a kettle, honey. I'm a coffee pot." Elvis chuckled, kissing her hand and then her lips again.

" Mr. Presley!"

"I'm going, I'm going. Just had to say bye to my wife." 

Cecelia laughed as she watched him leave. Elvis Walked by Denise as he kissed her on the cheek, "Couldn't leave you out, mama." Denise playfully pushed him away as she blushed. 

"Now you get out of here!"

"Told you he's Charmin."Cecelia swooned. 

It was 8:30 p.m., and Elvis could hear the engine of Cecelia's pink Mustang pull to the front of the house. He knew she had to be tired of working all day in the studio, but he wanted to tell her about the movie and his idea to get hers done, 

"Hope I didn't miss dinner." he heard her voice from the front door as Vernon smiled, 

"You didn't miss much," Cecelia gave him a nod, 

"Great, I'm tired and starving." she smiled, "And I dearly missed my-" she ran into her husband's arms and kissed him all over his face,

 "Missed me, I see." Elvis winked as he dipped her and planted a playfully wet kiss on her lips.

"Always do."

 Vernon smiled, seeing the two lovers in each other's arms as he shook his head, reminding him of how he and Gladys used to be. 

"I'll let you two be."

"So, did you send the soundtrack off?" Elvis asked. He didn't mean to bug her about it. He was just excited for her.

"Mhmm, to Desilu studio's, which is always a dream to film at." she smiled. 

"Of course, you could always send it to Paramount." he hinted, "Since it's where we're going."

"We're..." she looked at him,

"Managed to pull some strings with The Colonel."

"I'm sure that was easy to do." She rolled her eyes, "But how'd you do it? How'd you snow him this time!" Sitting on the white couch in the living room.

"I told him you ain't going to be a distraction."

"That's all?" She laughed,

 "And you were there for business. So we wouldn't see each other none."

"Ah yes, there it is... The snow," she shook her head, 

"Don't give me that sad look."

"What sad look?"

"That one, doll, you know I'm gonna see ya." he kissed her forehead, 

"But..."

"Just trickin' him is all," he laughed. "Besides, your mama thought it was a hilarious idea."

"Of course she did..." 

"Baby..."

"El, it pains me that I have to hide our love. I can only kiss you when no one is around or here, or the studio, or my mother's mansion," she sighed, "I love you. And I'm not afraid to show it, even if The Colonel gets pissed he'll have to be madder than a viper about it." she then took a deep breath, "I'm your wife damnit and maybe one day the mother of your children too!" 

"Been bottling that up, huh," he looked at her as she nodded, 

"You know what, no more hiding it then." 

"You mean it..." 

"Anyone's got a problem with it, they can go through me."

"Elvis..."

"Nope, if it's botherin you that much, then to hell what everyone thinks." Elvis kissed her cheek,

"Elvis strikes again." She giggled,

"Damn right, he does."

Hollywood California. April 1960

"So I have good news..." Cecelia grinned, watching as the hair team did his hair,

 "What's the news, darlin," he asked, looking over his shoulder, 

"Well, the scripts greenlit and... the cast is getting in place and..." Elvis smiled at her as she kept rambling, 

"Who's playing the love interest." 

"Oh, you wouldn't know him," she smirked, 

"Tell me all about him."

"Well, he's charming. He's done five movies. He has a slew of records and appealing to the audience." She leaned over his shoulder, "Sounds like a catch," he smirked, 

"I picked him myself." She kissed his cheek, 

"Do I need to worry about this guy?" Elvis asked, leaning into her joke. 

"Not really," she kissed his cheek,

"So when do we start filming?"

"Well... next week, but I start getting fitted into my costume today." She smiled, 

"You'll have to show me." he looked at her lips, 

"Elvis... My boy, why aren't you in costume."

"The buzz kill rings." Cecelia sighed, pulling away from him.

"Stop by around lunch." he winked. The Colonel was still on and on yapping. As she giggled, swooning, 

"SHIT, I'm late!" 

Running across to Desilu studios, she had made it just in time for her fitting. Cecelia had feathers in her hair and a two-piece dress made of diamonds, which was supposed to go to Marilyn Monroe. 

"You look beautiful..." Cecelia nodded, looking at herself in the mirror, "It's the perfect dress for a gem like you." Lucile smiled, "Course, if I had your figure, I'd always dress like that." she joked with her cigarette in her mouth. 

"Let's see you walk in it..." she sauntered in it and gave it a turn, 

"You don't think it's too much?" Cecelia asked, 

"I'd say wear it around a bit, get used to it." Cecelia nodded as she took a deep breath. It was happening. Something she wrote was coming to life. Cecelia was walking towards the studio cafeteria. All eyes were on her as she glistened and glittered beyond the lights. She was like a seductive angel. But only one gentleman caught her eye. 

"You're drawing attention to yourself..." Midge whispered.

"So do Rita and Marilyn." She walked by as she got in line. Elvis had popped in as the women swooned and said hi, but his eyes caught onto the woman with every man at her feet. His heart skipped a beat the same way it did at the Hayride. As she turned around, he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. She was a knock out she was, 

"Cecelia..." she saw him, the uniform nearly sending her over the moon, reminding her of how he looked in the army,

 "Hello... Sergeant Tulsa."

"Costume fits u-u-uh nicely..." 

"So does yours..." she bit her lip, almost piercing it. Taking her by the hand, she could feel the sensation of the leather gloves. 

"We've got an hour to kill..."

"Then let's not waste it..." she smirked. Before she knew it, her back was against Elvis' dressing room, and her leg around his waist, 

"Tell me whatcha want baby,"

"You... " she pulled him by his tie. She kissed him deeply, licking his bottom lip as his mouth opened. She wanted to, no needed to taste him, and he needed the same. His hand found the zipper on her dress. 

"We got an hour go slow..." she moaned in his ear as she felt his tongue on her neck. 

"It's hard to when you're dressed like this..." nipping at her skin as he trailed his kisses lower towards her breast, giving each of her nipples attention, her head hitting against the wall already. 

"Fuck..." she gasped as he smirked, 

"You're gonna have to stay quiet, doll..." slipping his finger in her mouth as her pretty cherry lips sucked on them. Oh, how he wished she was sucking somewhere else. Cecelia was already on cloud nine. But she needed to feel him. Pulling away, she pushed him against the couch, pinning him down as she straddled him, undoing his belt buckle, finally getting to the main prize, 

"See someones eager..."

"You know what you in uniform does to me." she whispered in his ear, "Remind me." he laughed as she released him from his pants, her hands on his chest as Cecelia sank down on him, a shiver taking over her as Cecelia moaned, "Breathe darlin take it real slow." his hand on her cheek as she leaned into his touch, "Elvis~" she gasped, "Cock drunk already darlin." he chuckled thrusting up into her, his hands on her hips as she followed the rhythm of every pump. She whined as Cecelia arched her back. Falling into the pleasure, if Elvis hadn't known better, he had thought she'd had Betty Page beat to flexibility.

 "That's it, princess..." he grunted and groaned. She was in heaven, and so was he, "Hold on tight..." Picking her up, she was against the wall again, his hips sputtering faster into her. The two filling the room with skin slapping and moans, "Elvis fuck! Faster deeper!" clawing at his back. "Fuck Cece..." he growled in her ear, fulfilling her commands as he could feel it squeezing tighter around him. Elvis was getting lost in the pleasure, and so was she. Neither could care less about anything but each other and the moment. Her hands were in his hair as she tugged a few dark strands. Cecelia was right at her peak, and he was only a mile away, 

"Don't stop! Right there Fuck me!" It was as if lightning struck through him. His hips sputtered out of control, almost as if he were dancing, "Baby! Cece ..." he felt her kissing his neck as she bit his ear. Oh, she had messed up now. He was seeing stars, and so was she, still fucking her through her glass-shattering orgasm as her body finally fell limp against his own, 

"Did you..." 

"Mhmm..." her breathing was heavy and sporadic, "Did you..." she felt him pulling out as she felt empty again. She could feel some fluid running down her leg. Elvis took a wet towel, cleaning her up. Her legs were shaking like Bambi's as he laughed, 

"Was I too rough, honey...."

"You were perfect." she blushed, her head on his chest as she kissed his neck again,

 "Oops..." 

"What, darlin..."

"Someone's gonna need the hair and makeup team."

"Mr. Presley, we need you back on set!"

"Fuck..." he mumbled, "You stay here til I get back." he kissed her forehead, "It's all I can do." she chuckled. Fixing himself up, he walked out of his dressing room and back on set."Have you seen Cece..." Midge looked at him. She then smelled the perfume on his wrinkled costume. "You don't wanna go in there..." Elvis warned,

"Whys that Presley..." she smirked, "We're you two getting busy in there..." Midge looked at all the details as she laughed, and he blushed, 

"I knew I heard what I heard when I heard it..." 

"Don't tell the Colonel."

"I'm sure he knows loverboy." 

A few days had passed, and it was almost close to the wrapping of G.I. Blues. Cecelia had been in her dressing room getting ready to film all her solo scenes when standing by her doorway was, "Elvis... what are you doing here..." she chuckled as the hairstylist was doing her hair, "Wanted to see my favorite girl," he leaned in and kissed her as the stylist gasped, he then handed her a bouquet of pink roses, Elvis must have done something and she wanted to know what, "So I may have let it spill in an interview that we're married... and your mama won't stop callin about it, and Colonels pissed," he looked at her poker face, hoping she wasn't mad, 

"Well, you did the right thing," she smirked,

 "You're not mad..." 

"Nope..." she looked at him, 

"Cece..."

"El, I said I wanted everyone to know, and now they do. Although I doubt they'll believe it." she giggled, 

"So you're not mad?"

"Nope."  

"Promise."

"Promise." She kissed his hand. Cecelia grinned, holding the flowers in her hand. 

Later that night, Cecelia was in their California home on the phone, 

"Have you read the papers?"

"I have..." 

"And you're not going to debunk them."

"No," she sighed, "California's a bit different, " rolling her eyes as her mother was gritting her teeth, "Cecelia, just be careful I don't..."

"Don't want me hurt, don't worry, Elvis has already punched two men in my honor." 

"HE DID WHAT!"

"Oh, would you look at the time bedtime, Bye!" she hung up giggling,

 "So how'd the Colonel take it..." her eyes were trailing to a damp Elvis coming out of the shower, towel around his waist, her mouth wetter than her other lips,

 "Take what, angel?"

"Uh, the news?"She tried to focus as she watched him dry his hair off.

 "Darlin, it ain't polite to stare,"

"It is when it's a work of art." She pulled him by the towel as she laughed, 

"Can't get enough of me?" he laughed. Until he saw Cecelia upside down on the bed with her mouth wide open, 

"Doll..."

"You've been pleasing me. It's only fair I return the favor."Cecelia's voice dripped like honey, "Can you let me do that for you, sugar..." her southern accent oozed with seduction. Elvis could barely focus. The moonlight was glistening on her brown skin, and she sounded and looked so sweet he knew she deserved a taste, her lips wrapped around his length as she took all of him. She loved she could make him moan just from her lips alone. Elvis tugged at her hair. Setting the rhythm with each thrust in her mouth, he could see her eyes looking right at his as another guttural moan left his lips, 

He was in heaven from every lick, suck, and gag from his dear angel. 

"Fuck...You're too good to me, baby." he could feel himself twitching around her as she focused on the base of his pretty pink tip. Elvis was about to explode if she didn't stop, but he didn't want her to, 

"Just like that..." his hips moving faster. Ropes of cum were on her tongue as she looked at him. Completely drunk by his taste, Cecelia swallowed, "You're one naughty girl. You know that, right," Pulling out as she nodded at him, he kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally those lips he loved so much. 

"Now it's my turn."

"But El."

"Ah..." he was between her thighs. Elvis pulled the bottoms of her baby doll pajamas down. His teeth grazed the inside of her thighs as he licked and trailed his sweet kisses back up to her soaking-wet panties, "El!" she grabbed his hair as she felt his tongue lap at the spot where the stain was, "Vis..." she sighed as her eyelids fluttered. 

"There's plenty more baby..." He hadn't done much to her, and she was already getting breathy and blissed out. Oh, how his heart couldn't believe this amazing woman was his wife. Removing her panties, he slowly plunged two fingers into her soaking wet cavern. The sweet moans and juicy sounds she made were only driving him crazier. 

"Oh God..." she groaned as his tempo was faster, curling both fingers against her spot. His thumb was circling her clit, and his mouth was moving just as fast as his fingers. Cecelia was in pure bliss, heaven even, as she could feel her end coming soon. It was what the French called La Petite Mort, 

"Oh FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" she screamed,

"ElViS Oh God!! "she moaned. Elvis was eating as if he were starving, and he was hungry for her love, her affection, to please her, to show her he was hers and she, his own. If he couldn't tell she was a singer, he could by her moans from the E6 she was hitting just from his tongue and fingers alone, 

"Baby..."

Her legs were shaking again, and he was going back down to lick her clean. She was still sensitive, but Elvis knew she couldn't take anymore. After all, neither could he. The two were still tired from earlier that day on his break from set. 

"Was it too much..."

"P-Perfect." she looked at him as he cuddled her close to him. 

"Still on cloud nine."

"Mhmm..."

"Me too." he kissed her forehead. 

"Baby..." She took a deep breath,

" Hmmm, darlin?"

"Do you hear knocking..."

"Cecelia SHANEL VALMOS!!!" 

"Oh fuck me..."

"Would you like me to..."

"Considering that's my mother at the door, I don't think so," Cecelia said. How long had Denise even been in California? She wondered as she kept knocking on the door, 

"We need to talk. Now-"

Cecelia opened the door as Elvis put on his shirt, 

"Hey, mama..." the two said as Denise shook her head, 

"Did I catch you two at a bad time?"Denise asked as they both shook their heads, 

"Good, well, meeting living room now," Denise commanded as the two followed behind her. They'd all been sitting on the couch looking at each other until Denise slammed the picture on the table, 

"What's this about..."

"Well..." Elvis started,

"I told the press we were married, and they ran with it." Cecelia smiled, 

"No big deal."

"No big deal, my ass, soon they'll make rumors that you're pregnant!" 

Memphis, Tennessee, March 1961

"So tell us! Who are these cuties." Reporters flooding the steps of Graceland, Cecelia hadn't been in the limelight. And it wasn't because of the lack of free time from recording, but "This is Jesse Vernon Presley, and this is Elaine Marie Love Presley." the two said proudly, each holding a baby in their arm. On February 6th, 1961, Cecelia had given birth to twins, and Elvis was still mesmerized by them both. He was excited to see who they'd take after more or if they were their own little people and get in their own trouble to wreak havoc, 

        "So tell us, Elvis, any new music?"

                        "Elvis, when are you going back on tour!"

        "Elvis, how do you feel about the new generation of artists." 

"You know my wife here has been working on a few movies and albums and-

"Cecelia, do you plan to quit music and focus on the kids in total?."

Cecelia grumbled, "No, I plan to do both. My mother did both, and she raised me just fine." Cecelia began to grit her teeth as they kept pestering. Elvis could see how angry she was getting, "I think that's all the time we have."Elvis said as he helped Cecelia up. The two walked back into the house, and she took a deep breath. Elvis knew what that meant. She was going to blow her top, but that was until she looked into Jesse's eyes, 

"You okay, mama bear?"

"I'm fine, Papa Bear." She smiled as Elvis held Elaine. She was safe and warm in Elvis's arms before she threw up on his shoulder, 

"Lainie... That's the third time today." He sighed. Fatherhood was looking good on him. If Cecelia did say so herself, the way he wiped her mouth off and made funny-faced while doing so. Jesse, on the other hand, was fussy, which meant he was sleepy.  

"I'm gonna put him down for his nap."

"I'll come with you." Elaine was already asleep as Jesse was still crying, 

"There there, blue moon." she nuzzled his nose as Elvis kissed his forehead. His eyes were just about as blue as his daddy's. 

"Think he's hungry?" Elvis asked,

"No, Elaine cries when she's hungry, and Jesse grabs at me," Cecelia said, putting him in his crib as she rocked him slowly. Elvis did the same with Elaine. They both began to sing them a lullaby as the pair had officially dozed off to sleep.

"This Parenting thing can't be so bad, can it?"Elvis questioned.

"I don't think so. The twins are asleep. You're covered in baby spit-up, and I can barely fit my favorite dresses." Cecelia teared up. "I don't even feel like myself anymore..." Elvis had her in his arms as she continued to cry,

"Baby, you are the sexiest mama I ever seen," Elvis said, kissing her face. He was right, from the way her hips were a bit fuller, but she still had curves like a winding highway that he wanted on top of him right now. 

"You're just being nice." she sighed, 

"Honey..."

"Hmm..." 

"You're being hard on yourself again..." Elvis said, kissing her as they walked out of the nursery, 

"I know, baby..."

"You're more than what those fakes out there said to you," he hugged her, 

"We'll get through this crazy life together, I assure you." 

Las Vegas January 1973

"JESSE GIVE ME BACK MY GUITAR!" Elaine shouted from the top of her lungs, 

"MAKE ME!" He responded, standing on the hotel bed, dangling it over her head, "I'm telling Mama right now!" Elaine glared with the fury of her father as she marched out of the room and towards her parents. It was another year of the Vegas residency and another birthday spent in Vegas. But this year was different. It was the first time they bought the kids, and Cecelia already thought it was a bad idea. They could hear them arguing through the hotel walls, and neither wanted to leave the bordello dream bed as it was so cozy. 

"YOU WOULDN'T TELL MAMA!"

" I WOULD!" Elaine smirked, knocking on the door.

Elvis turned over to face Cecelia as she looked over at him, 

"Who's gonna settle it..." he asked, 

"I got it. You rest. You've been up all night."

"You sure? I mean, today is your birthday,"

"El, you'll make it up to me." She kissed him. Cecelia then walked towards the door, and she was greeted by Elaine and Jesse, who were arguing worse than their grandparents. 

"Can I help you, and one at a time, and if you even talk over each other, you both are being sent back to your room, and you will hash it out yourselves." 

"Jesse took my guitar and dangled it over my head!" 

"I did not!" he stuck his tongue out at his sister, Jesse was mischievous like his father and always had a prank up his sleeve, but he meant well, even if his sister didn't find it funny, 

"Did too!" 

"Did not!"

"Did too!" 

"YOUR DADDY IS TRYING TO SLEEP AND IF YOU WAKE HIM, THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY DO YOU HEAR ME!" Elvis said from the bed as they both straightened up. Elvis had now been standing behind Cecelia in his robe as she looked up at him, "Now what happened?"

"Well. Elaine was teasing me, and so I took her guitar."

"What did you say to him, Elaine?" Cecelia asked. Elaine had a sharp tongue like both her parents. It was something she was proud of him, 

"I told him he's about as dumb as a seal who thinks it's a dolphin." Elvis and Cecelia tried not to laugh,  

"I told her she's as cross-eyed as Gladly the cross-eyed grizzly bear."

"I'm not cross-eyed, you moron!"

Elvis and Cecelia couldn't contain their laughter as their children kept going. There was so much of them in their children, but also, there was so much love,

"You two apologize to each other." Elvis said, trying to catch his breath, "Lord have mercy." Elaine and Jesse glared at each other. Jesse's blue eyes were intense, like his father's, but not like Elaine's, who had brownish-green eyes that pooled up when she was angry. 

"I'm not apologizin to her."

"Jesse Vernon Presley... don't make me put grandma on the phone. That goes for you too. Elaine."Cecelia said, her hands on her hips. 

"But!"

"Ah. Ah, you two are the only things you've got in this world," the two rolled their eyes,

"Listen to your mama."

"Yes, daddy..." they mumbled,

"Your daddy and I didn't have anyone else in the world to talk to."

"What about aunt Midge and uncle Jerry?" Jesse asked.

"Yes, but no, what your mama means is, when we're old an grey and gone, you two will still be here through thick and thin."Elvis smiled,

"So it's important, you two stick together," Cecelia kissed both of their foreheads, "Now apologize..." 

"I'm sorry..." Jesse hugged his sister,

"I'm sorry too," Elaine smiled, 

"Good, now, why don't you two get dressed and..."

"Oh boy, it's Star Trek!" Jesse and Elaine flopped on the bed as Cecelia and Elvis laughed.

"Well there goes your birthday surprise..."

"We still got tonight." Cecelia smirked,

"YOU'RE STUPID!" Elaine shouted,

"YOU'RE A MORON!" Jesse said back.

"Definitely tonight." Elvis mumbled, rubbing his temples.

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

The END!

[zivakrealtygroup]

Are you looking to sell or refinance your house? Looking to increase the value of your house before an assessment is done? Here are some cool and easy tips that can help you to Increase Your Home Value.

[workscounselingcenter]

Pride Month: The Power of Community

Bigots will often say, “Why do they need a whole month to parade around their sexuality, etc.?” They fail to realize, however, that pride month is about so much more than sex or sexuality. It’s about authenticity. It’s also about honoring those who have passed due to LGBTQIA+ violence or during the HIV/AIDS epidemic, building community, and so much more.

Queer and queer-allied community is powerful, especially in a state like Tennessee. Here are some ways to build LGBTQIA+ community during and/or outside of pride month:

Go to Nashville Pride! The parade is fantastic and everyone is so kind. This year, we will have a booth at Nashville Pride, so please do come say hi! Pride will be June 22 & June 23, 2024!

Our friends to the south, the city of Franklin, are also having a pride festival! Last year, my colleagues and I had a booth there, and we will again this year. Franklin Pride will be June 1!

If you can and want to travel, visit other cities’ pride festivals!!

Attending drag shows are a fantastic way to build community. You can catch these at many places across the city.

Visit and engage with pro-LGBTQIA+ establishments. For instance, if you like yoga, go take a class at Shakti Power Yoga on Music Row! They are a lovely, pro-LGBTQIA+ yoga studio.

Utilize online methods of building queer community, such as Bumble-Bff! 7. Participate in LGBTQIA+ and LGBTQIA+-allied recreational sports leagues!

The Trevor Project’s 2023 National Survey tells us so much, including the importance of community. According to their findings, “LGBTQ young people who had access to affirming homes, schools, community events, and online spaces reported lower rates of attempting suicide compared to those who did not” (Trevor Project, 2023). Half of survey respondents reported having a supportive school environment, and the respondents who did reported lower levels rates of attempting suicide (Trevor Project, 2023).

What does this tell us? Community matters, especially when it comes to protecting the wellbeing of LGBTQIA+ youth. The city of Nashville has many ways to find queer community as we approach pride month. It’s vital that we celebrate pride month, now more than ever. Governor Lee and the supermajority can pass all of the hateful legislation they want to, but they cannot take away the freedom of assembly, freedom of expression, and freedom of speech that will take place at Nashville Pride.

As I mentioned at the top, pride month is also about honoring our queer ancestors. We have lost far too many to violence and the AIDS epidemic. This blog post is in loving memory of my mom’s dear friend, Mike, a gay man who died of AIDS during the epidemic. I never met Mike, as he passed before I was born, but my mother tells me he was a beloved human and talented speech pathologist. May he rest in peace, and may his memory be a blessing.

The well-being of thousands of Tennesseans is at stake here, and if you really value life like you say you do, work with us to make this state a place for everyone.

Contact us.

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WINDSOR ARCHER BROWNING

43. VETERINARIAN. WIFE. MOTHER

face claim: jennifer morrison full name: windsor archer browning nickname(s) / goes by: winnie, win, windy.  pronouns & gender: she/her,  cis woman sexuality: heterosexual birth date: may 26th, 1980 birth place: Nashville, TN.  arrival to merrock: 2002 (after college) housing: The Coast and Pier occupation: stay at home mom + part time large animal vet work place: Merrock Countryside family: theo browning (husband) + 2 children relationship status: married

triggering / sensitive content: affair tw

Windsor Archer is the daughter of big investment banker, William James Archer, from Nashville. She’s the daughter of an affair he had with his secretary when he was 35, and when her mother realized he wasn’t going to marry her after having his daughter because it’s not what he wanted, she left Windsor with him and never came back. It didn’t mean William never loved Winnie any less. 

William worked a lot, which in turn had Winnie raised by lots of maids and staff, but he still loved his daughter very much and everything he did, he did to give her the best life possible. He spent every second of the weekend with her, playing outside, going to her horse riding competitions and watching Disney movies together. With her dad being outside of the house until the very late hours of the night, Windsor turned to after school activities to keep herself interested. She’s always been very interested in animals and loved them as a child, keeping all sorts random pets at home and taking the stray ones she found on the street to the shelter. She’s always had a special bond with animals that couldn’t be explained, from the horses she rode and jumped on since she was old enough to hold onto reins, to the dogs and cats that came into her house uninvited and found a new home.

Windsor worked her fingers to the bone to get into college -not that her dad couldn’t have waved one finger and gotten her into any finance program she wished, but she wanted to make it by herself-, and she sent out tens of application letters. So when the letter came from Florida telling her that the University of Florida program of Veterinary Medicine would be delighted to have her, she couldn’t have jumped high enough. Moving to Florida was going to be a big jump in her life, she loved her dad and wanted nothing more than to be with him, but this was a change she wanted to do. Move away from the nest, create a life for herself. She was gonna miss her dad, he was her best friend, but this was her lifelong dream. A chance to study the every animal in the world? Hell yeah.

Moving to Florida was such breath of fresh air. Her father visited at least once a month whenever he could, and Winnie lived for those moments with him, but she’d definitely found herself and had broken out of her shell of being a little girl, transforming herself into a young woman.

While in Florida, one night at a bar, she met Theo. He looked like the guy every girl wanted to date, and she couldn’t be bothered at first to fight through the competition, figuring he could be a good friend and just that. He was so interesting, working towards becoming a firefighter, he had great morals and values, and wasn't bad looking either. She would've been happy with being just friends for longer, but one night, but after a few drinks and an even longer conversation, it clicked on her. She was in love with him. And nothing else, nobody else, would do. They lived together in Florida while they were both in college, and after they were done with their degrees, Theo wanted to return to Merrock. Winnie’s dad would’ve loved if she'd returned to Nashville, he’d already lined up a residency at a racetrack there, but Windsor wouldn't spend a day without Theo, so she said no. She would return to Merrock with him, and do her residence at the big animal hospital in Maine thirty minutes away. 

After she was done with residency, she started working at Harmony Ranch as their on-call veterinarian for five years, but that all stopped about when she got pregnant with Riley, and soon after him, Lily came along. With two kids, and Theo always out of the house with his job and training, she realized that working a high demand job wasn’t really in the cards for her, so she hung up her coat and dedicated herself to being a mom to her two children and all their pets. Now that the kids are older, she’s picking the old habit back up, offering to do emergency or last minute calls at the ranch or the animal sanctuary for no pay at all, only to be in contact with the animals and make sure she hasn’t lost her touch with healing. Both from Theo’s side of the family and her dad setting up a generous trust fund he still feeds daily for his grandkids, Winnie wouldn’t have to work if she didn’t want to. 

Aside from being a mom, Windsor likes painting, still enjoys horseback riding whenever she an, going to her kids soccer games and spending time with her family. 

[hologramcowboy]

https://youtu.be/kNF72dd69Zs

(It should take you right to the time stamp, but if not the story starts at 11:39)

So in the Gold panel at the most recent con in Nashville, Jensen told a story about Jared telling a pun about a kidnapping the day before and scaring Jensen because he thought there was a kidnapping at the kids’ school (Odette and the twins go to school together). On the surface it’s a cute story, but to me it just spoke to how uninvolved with his children Jensen is. In what world does a dad find out about an incident at school on a weekend from a friend and not the school itself the day of? Or from his wife, the primary parent to his children who he should be in contact with regularly because that’s normal for couples, regardless of whether they have children or not. Every con he reveals, accidentally or purposefully, how absent he is in his own family unit, how poorly he gets on with his wife. I feel bad for his children. I’m sure he loves them in his own way and they want for nothing when it comes to material items, but a present father figure is pretty priceless.

I'm not the least bit surprised, it's clear he is constantly away from home and, when he is home, he barely spends time with his children. You can tell by the comments he makes about them that his children are mostly strangers to him. So you can imagine what his relationship with his wife must be like. He barely sees her that's why he's yet to divorce her. He believes that's "his" normal and seems to not truly care about being in actual love with someone. He is constantly putting his career above his family so that shows us his main values center around success in his career and not around family centered values. My heart breaks for those children everytime I hear Jensen tell "stories" about them, both the Ackles treat those kids like image tokens and that is truly heartbreaking on so many levels.

[aalt-ctrl-del]

Don't listen to those gun nuts. None of them, and I mean absolutely none of them, understand statistics. They couldn't tell me the difference between a p-value and a z-value, let alone how to calculate either. They throw out stats they don't understand. Nothing you said was wrong. We are desperately in need of common sense gun reform, and the good news is we are working getting there. If you can, vote and encourage others to vote too. The right candidate is on your ballot, but they can't help usher in the gun reform without your support.

True.

They love to talk about their guns and how the guns will keep us safe. Then when you discuss the people that get shot up in places where we don't expect, like groceries stores, places where you don't expect confrontation likes clubs, they can't handle it.

This was like one of the first shots of the police I saw when we got the bodycam footage

Good officers put their lives on the line for the people. They go out there to serve in these sort of situations, recognizing they may not make it home. Unlike Uvalde, where the cops were armed to the teeth in tactical gear and armor, Nashville's enforcers went in like they just got called out of the street (an oversimplification and does not warrant the time it took to prep for this engagement, in less than 10 minutes).

But the shooter had AR high caliber weapons. People killing guns. I know gun phillics like to defend these light-weight but powerful rifles, so that they can manage pest animals like 'prairie' dogs, but the yield of these weapons decimates the body. Forensic Investigators need dental records on some of the victims to identify who was slain. They're torn to pieces.

And that is just the children. Adults are larger, more hardy in structure. But a good clear shot will splint the head and eviscerate everything atop the spinal cord. If the body doesn't go down first, which is what did happen to the shooter - cause Nashville did try to apprehend without putting the shooter down.

This pixel right here

A body. Understandably, it was blurred. The officers called this person, knowing they were close to the shooter. This was right after they pass the pictures on the wall with the children.

So there is this thing with gun ownership, as with dealing with any sort of weapon. You need to comprehend the responsibility and undertake an amount of respect for the weapon. This is not a prop, this is not a 'hobbyist' collectors item. This is a functioning tool with a history attached to it. No other asset can be owned, that has the sort of history a gun or sword, or whatever sort of weapon like a deactivated grenade might hold.

Guns are vastly different. They have a difficult and sordid history, and people need to understand that when they think they should own this weapon. Because this is a weapon with a purpose, and that is part of the ownership of this tool.

One of the aspects of the tool is understand what to use it for. And for whatever reason, the correlation between this tool and its intended result... should be scrubbed. The gun philics don't want to associate their collectors item with a weapon of terror or slaying children - which is what it is now. You try and describe to them what these weapons are meant to do, what the lack of gun reform and dismissal of improved legislator will do, and they want to spit 'statistics' about violence in 'the hood' the technical term for 'mass shootings', and all the good that guns do for people.

Which valid. People have been allowed the right to protect themselves from small time thieves and opportunistic predators (human, btw). People have defended their families, their friends, because a gun was involved. To be American is to have that right that is listed in the constitution, and we should be proud of that right.

At the same time, these gun philics are very proud to own AR and high caliber weapons, people killer guns. Weapons meant for the chaos and messiness of war, the battlefield, the "kill them before they kill you" situation.

It is the equivalent of owning a severed finger. Or the skullcap of a child. or collecting the molars of people from the grocery store. The jawbone of a grandmother picking peaches from the produce section.

There is a balance with rules and rights. I have these rights, and so do others in the same category. I acknowledge my rights can be misconstrued, violated by those with unethical agendas. The factor that I would like this right, can be abused by someone else, and there are consequences for that right, for this privilege.

Gun philics demand to have their right, but revoke wanting to contend with the consequences. Rather work to better improve this right and prevent mass shooting events, they bawl "MY RIGHTS ARE BEING INFRINGED ON!! YOU CAN'T HAVE ALL MY GUNS!"

Then go bury their guns in a bunker like a demented squirrel.

You say, "These are the people slain by a weapon meant to kill people. This is what having those rights has done, and if we don't work now to fix it, we can expect more of this."

Then they scream, "THIS IS LEFTIST PROPAGANDA! YOU'RE SWAYING PEOPLE TO YOUR IDEA OF THINKING."

Propaganda would entail, I have adjusted the thing or presented it in a fashion which misconstrues the truth of an event. Or, I have fixed in in a manner which hides some facet of the context of the situation.

The forensic investigators and morticians have gone onto the stand for the trial of these mass shooting events, and that has been called propaganda. Telling the truth and nothing but that ugly truth, has been labeled propaganda. How the police doing their job, happening to march by a dead body maimed by a mass shooter, is suddenly propaganda, is beyond morbid. That is a dead body, we are going to look at this person, they are no longer going to be with their family, they will no longer visit friends. They were killed in the hallway of an elementary school, a few feet from pictures of smiling children.

And people will be upset for pointing that out. "it's too soon to pass legislate on guns." "We can't pass reform or study the laws today".

We should be looking at the dead bodies. We should be looking at the faces of the law enforcement as they march into these situations, to DO THEIR JOB CORRECTLY AND WITHOUT HESITATION, and instead of praising them for the masterful job they did or saying they are heroes, do better to pass reform, so they are not going into these narrow hallways to hunt down an active shooter.

The fact of the matter is, we are making the streets unsafe for the police force who are doing their job. We've left schools vulnerable to attack by these people, because the ones who seek a weapon for killing people with intent to kill people, either seek our children or vulnerable citizens in a space that should be safe. There will be no "good people" with guns, because the "bad person" with the gun has the people killing rifle, and whoever is the good person with the gun is more likely to be carrying a pistol and not in the right stance or position to go Rambo like they envision them self doing in the astronomically low value situation of someone coming into their area to shoot up a cinema.

A last note, people don't really get how fortunate Nashville was, that the shooter confessed they were going to go out and shoot up a school. That the police got there and got inside, and that everything did go as it was meant to. But despite all that, we have casualties. It could have been worse, it could have been better, but the fact of it all is that it should not have happened in the first place.