#morgan wallens bar

[518td]

let’s go out 👅

[smallboyonherbike]

not the actual year end top 10 bc it's my poll and i only want to include songs i don't hate / aren't years old 😄

[opiote]

I BEEN DOIN GOOD SO GOOD I BEEN ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR!!!!!!!!

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 13/07/2024 (Eminem/Big Sean/BabyTron, Quavo/Lana Del Rey)

Sabrina may have outperformed Sabrina recently but thankfully, Sabrina has taken the throne off of Sabrina for a sixth week at #1 for Sabrina above Sabrina’s last hit, dropping to #2 thanks to a boost above Sabrina for Sabrina, leaving Sabrina below Sabrina. “Espresso” is at #1 and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

content warning: language, Eminem discourse

Rundown

And as always, we start our episode with the notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we bid adieu to… okay, sorry, “Gata Only” by FloyyMenor and Cris Mj went from #76 to #75 to #76 in a three-week span as if they know the arbitrary restrictions I place on this series and want to pressure me into changing them. If that’s the case, what’s “read the FAQ” in Spanish? Besides that, we say farewell to a mix of older tracks and stuffed EDM collabs, as our full lists consists of: “places to be” by Fred again.., Anderson .Paak and CHIKA (which of course deserved more than five weeks), “Addicted” by Zerb, the Chainsmokers and Ink, “Yellow” by Coldplay, “Without Me” by Eminem and finally, “Prada” by casso, RAYE and D-Block Europe, which feels like it’s been here forever.

As for our returns, we see the Euros boost another football anthem back on the charts, namely the #8-peaking “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. On the two non-consecutive weeks this song peaked, Mungo Jerry and T. Rex were #1 and that should give you enough context that I really don’t need to tell you it was 1971. Alongside it, “3 Lions” is up to #20 and “Mr. Brightside” is at #58 thanks to the band playing football matches at their shows in the lead-up to this track, but once again, I’ve talked about these football songs a while back. I can’t remember the episode but you can probably take an educated guess based on whatever football tournament was happening.

When it comes to notable gains, it’s a bit of an easier job, as there’s some straightforward pick-ups for “You & Me” by Disclosure featuring Eliza Doolittle at #66, “Miles on It” by Marshmello and Kane Brown at #60, “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #48, “Move” by Adam Port, Stryv and Malachiii at #46, Zach Bryan’s “Pink Skies” returning to the top 40 at #40 thanks to his new album but more on that later, “Kisses” by BL3SS, CamrinWatsin and bbyclose at #26, “Too Sweet” by Hozier at #13 and Kendrick Lamar returning to the top 10 at #9 with “Not Like Us”.

As for our top five, well, for our first full tracking week under a Labour government since 2010, we already know where Starmer’s cabinet stands on pop stars, with Chappell Roan’s “Good Luck, Babe!” at #5 swapping places with “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” by Billie Eilish at #4. One thing hasn’t changed, though, and that’s drinking habits, as Shaboozey’s “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” is steady at #3, and then of course, Sabrina: “Please Please Please” at #2 and “Espresso” at #1. Now for what should be an interesting and definitely varied set of new tracks.

New Entries

#73 - “28” - Zach Bryan

Produced by Zach Bryan

As I expected, I loved Zach Bryan’s newest album, The Great American Bar Scene, which released on July 4th - fittingly - and I delivered some longer thoughts in my listening log on RateYourMusic. The account name’s exclusivelytopostown if you wish to read any more, but to sum it up, it’s definitely more of a folk and heartland rock-influenced album, going from sounding like Springsteen to well, containing the Boss himself, and it fittingly has a more observational, on-the-road feel to it as we travel across America with Zach Bryan delivering relevant anecdotes surrounding his life that seem more distant than the self-titled. It’s still personal, it’s still got a warm, organic production, but there’s an undeniable swell to it all that makes the humble road trip feel a lot grander. I prefer the self-titled in terms of having more memorable, distinct songs but this is an excellent record in itself. Thankfully, one of my favourites was “28”, his only debut as the album bows in at #16 on the UK albums chart.

There are many topics that Bryan will delve into across the record but this one, in comparison, feels like a pretty straightforward love ballad, and a very sweet one at that. Bryan tells us stories about how he went to see her family on his 28th birthday and that was the first time his left felt full and that he was truly loved on his own birthday, having a family and home that he’s been searching for his entire life, caught in a place between home and somewhere distant and unfamiliar, but now he’s fell into what might be a new home for him, and the song celebrates how real that relationship feels. This is developed on in the second verse where Bryan finds himself in a very familiar lyrical space: the dive bar’s crowded with rich people, not at all like it was when he was younger, but the smoke seeping out is still the same, he’s still playing the guitar he was gifted at 14, and being with his new partner takes him back to that space he’s so familiar with. It’s a beautiful sentiment that the homes he created from a passage of specific, frequently recurring memories have been brought back to him by the way he feels with his partner. The organic recording with some distant guitar and an overwhelming bed of strings turns an intimate set of recollections to an honest-to-God ceremony and that little lyric change from “where your old man stayed” to “where your whole heart stayed” places a really neat little bow on everything. It may not be the deepest or most powerful cuts on the latest record, but it’s one that feels so universal without sacrificing the important details that make him such a loveable songwriter. It’s one of my favourite songs of the year, and the whole album’s worth checking out too.

#71 - “I Love You, I’m Sorry” - Gracie Abrams

Produced by Gracie Abrams and Aaron Dessner

Now we’re back in some territory that I’m less familiar with and also less appreciative to see on the charts, TayLorde Rodrigo… I mean, Gracie Abrams, daughter of J.J. This is another album cut from her breakout record that hit #1 a few weeks ago, with this being a sequel to another breakup track she released in 2020. I know I’ve often made comical comparisons to other artists when discussing Abrams’ particularly derivative style but I really liked “Risk” which is similarly plainly obvious on who it takes influence with so it really isn’t just that, and there’s some promise to that: it’s similarly structured to her “I miss you, I’m sorry” whilst taking a more wistful approach, a couple years later, on the breakup and acknowledging the weirdness of still being familiar to someone you slammed the door on despite loving, and being thankful that the ex-partner still keeps in touch, albeit the connection is dwindling. I was actually somewhat liking it, even if it borderlines on easy listening, until the bridge which seems to deflect some blame onto this partner for no reason in a really immature moment that feels out of place, and also has some really obvious takes from the Taylor department (no pun intended), even down to inflections and vocal delivery. The songwriting becomes basic and childish for what seems like a lashing out moment but doesn’t really need to serve that purpose in any way. The song is about frustration but a frustration that quietly bubbles down through life, why have that moment so far into the song? It just doesn’t work for me narratively even if the idea isn’t bad, and Dessner’s utterly unremarkable instrumental backing isn’t helping matters. It’s still okay, but with some very obvious flaws I can’t really get over.

#69 - “Bring Me Joy” - Rudimental and Karen Harding

Produced by Rudimental, Billen Ted and Slim Typical

I question who in Rudimental even contributes to these songs anymore. There are two other credited acts as producers here, and they are both DJ-producer duos who can do a perfectly good job by themselves or even together, but then add Rudimental, who are a trio and get top billing, and you’re telling me nine people produced this. You could argue that maybe one of them did and Rudimental is just the more recognisable name, but all three of the members are credited as writers, alongside salute who, if you don’t know, is also a DJ and producer, meaning 10 were involved in creating this song with Durham singer Karen Harding, who last appeared on the chart in 2015. Her debut single and biggest hit, “Say Something”, actually peaked at #7. The #1 was “Uptown Funk!”, of course. Maybe this new track will revive her hit-making career and you know what’s bizarre? How I can more obviously tell salute did work on this than any of the credited producers. Sure, it’s a drum and bass track, but it’s got a choir vocal, a gentler swell of pianos and the lead vocal filtered as an intro, it sounds more like it’s introducing a salute song than Rudimental’s until we get into the weirdly-mixed lead vocal and very unsubtle stutter that spirals into a frankly wank drum and bass loop. The song basically starts on 11 with all the details thanks to the nine people on the DAW, so any attempt at genuine bombast or relief in the drop feels like bashing in some horns to an already full orchestra. In fact, for what should be a rote, inoffensive track from an easily ignorable vocalist and completely competent producer teams, it’s surprisingly annoying with just how overly produced it is. The egregious implementation of that distorted male vocal clip is out of place, the effects added to Harding’s voice are grating and at times seemingly arbitrary, it’s just all a bit gross. I really like this genre and a lot of the time, will defend more mediocre drum and bass tunes because the drum patterns make me happy or the drop is exciting, but not even I can find much joy in this, which should be saying something.

#64 - “Apple” - Charli xcx

Produced by Charli xcx, A.G. Cook, George Daniel and Lotus IV

Once again, we go back to Charli’s BRAT, an album with more mainstream influence and longevity than I expected, as we get what is now our sixth debut from the record across multiple weeks. I believe this is what the gays call "being the moment." Charli has described this song as focusing on her very complicated relationship with her parents, using the “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” saying as its main conceit and going for a perhaps more familiar synthpop backing whilst filtering her vocals out to muffle her voice slightly, as if she’s becoming separate from her family as she finds escapism by travelling away from a family she’s constantly comparing herself to. The apple could “turn yellow or green”, accentuating both how unpredictable growing up could be and how that connection could either still work into old age or rot over time, with the third verse having her dissect the apple, splitting what traits of her that she doesn’t appreciate between her parents. It’s a clever and really open concept for the song, and whilst I’m a sucker for honest detail, the analogy is more telling depending on how you interpret it than perhaps a more down to reality vent about what is probably a feeling that couldn’t be understood by an audience that’s not specifically her. With this, I still feel the escapism of the airport but also the disappointment when that turns into a stuttering, dark clog instead of a beautiful swell in that bridge where she promises, of course, that she’s going to “drive all night”, aimlessly, realising that even if she makes her branch of the tree, she can’t escape from her family as it’s part of her. It’s not my favourite mix on the album, it can feel a bit flat and rushed sometimes, but the instrumental outro with the mantra of “do you” really places into perspective her question of asking where you even go to feel like you’re not alone, because forming a yes-or-no question out of that forces you, and her, to reckon with the idea that you don’t actually go anywhere. You’re still you, and your experiences don’t take you elsewhere, they add patches of detail to your own person. And if I’m getting philosophical, that means the song’s good or I’m insane. Probably both, and I don’t need to tell you this, but it’s definitely worth checking out even if it’s not the most sonically distinct piece on the album - for a more revealing track, it doesn’t need to be.

#62 - “Lies Lies Lies” - Morgan Wallen

Produced by Joey Moi

Well, well, look who else released country music on the 4th of July, with a special live YouTube performance video to boot which I didn’t mention in the review but is also how “28” was premiered. Even for Morgan Wallen here, the songwriting is a bit dire, which is a shame because there’s a darker hinge to the guitars here that should lead to the forestry atmosphere the smokier sound and the cool whistling should succeed at conveying. Yet the chorus is so basic and pissy, as is the rest of this breakup song, delivered in a way that doesn’t justify any of the bitterness in the lyrics or the darker sound. He kind of just delivers it like “Last Night”, which also had its toxic relationship - where the woman is mostly blamed, but at least in this one he ended things (despite his persistence that he must be the one to do so). The difference is that “Last Night” is almost sing-songy, it’s a pop song more than anything and embraces it by going for trap drums and plastic silliness instead of going deeper into country cred for what is little more than an aesthetic for something that doesn’t pull on many of its songwriting tropes. It just ends up sounding ugly and flat for no purpose when a perfectly serviceable Maroon 5 song is hidden under there, and ends up looking pretty bad for Morgan Wallen. If your country song released on a patriotic day as what should surely be a gift for your fans given its lack of connection to an existing album and no reason to start another cycle is this ashamed of being a pop song, ridden in so much interpersonal hatred that’s still vague enough to consider itself universal, largely because you didn’t write one word of it, I would be reconsidering why I made country music in the first place. Or maybe that’s just how you celebrate the founding of your great country: singing about your ex-girlfriend’s lies and deceit, alcohol addiction and hating yourself. Hell, is that saying more about Morgan or the States?

#59 - “you look like you love me” - Ella Langley featuring Riley Green

Produced by Will Bundy

Thankfully, for a week weirdly full of country songs for the UK charts, we actually have more good than bad, with - interestingly - two relative newcomers in Ella Langley, who released her first record in 2023, and Riley Green who has had much success as a writer (hence his credit on this song) but not as much in his solo career until 2019 onwards. This duet tells the story of a lonely Ella Langley meeting passionately with a lover at a bar: “you look like you love me” seems like a very forward line for a one-night stand so whilst the life after this hook-up isn’t referenced and their drunkenness is emphasised throughout, there’s definitely still some reminiscing about this rendezvous. Langley uses a conversational delivery in the verses that feels very much like a traditional story-telling country songs, the kind that my dad used to like, but returns to an undeniable sing-a-long hook every time and it just feels like magic. Despite what could be a pretty chintzy instrumental considering the piano and acoustic pick-up but it just immerses you further in the story, with the awkward dead spaces in Riley Green’s verse that make it clear this isn’t as smooth of a hook-up as she remembers, the emphasis on little clothing details like boots and Green’s cowboy hat, the fact that she goes “alright now!” before the hoedown instrumental break, it’s all quite comical in its own cutesy way that I find really endearing. Vintage, sure, and perhaps a story that’s less believable to have happened in this day and age, but it doesn’t need to be to still be a fun little story delivered really excellently. I will say that Langley is clearly much more of a presence but thematically that makes a lot of sense, and it is refreshing to see a woman be the most prominent element of the highest debuting country song this week (outside of, well, we’ll get to it), that has a separate woman credited as a co-writer. It’s a cute, heartwarming little song that I think even those who write off country music on the charts will enjoy a fair bit.

#56 - “Pink Lemonade (Str8 Reload)” - LeoStayTrill and Mr. Reload It

Produced by Xeretto and VG$ Midnight

Whilst this is “Pink Lemonade (Str8 Reload)” by LeoStayTrill and Mr. Reload It. LeoStayTrill is a rapper from South London whilst Mr. Reload It is… not the producer or vocalist so who is Mr. Reload It? It took me little time to gather through social media that Mr. Reload It, real name Alex, is a content creator on TikTok who runs a show called Str8 Reload wherein rappers come in and freestyle, and the song had already finished without me realising I was really playing it by the time I had written all that out. LeoStayTrill appears to be a content creator on his own, and I skimmed through his TikToks that have nothing to do with the song but are featured with the sound in the background and hashtags proclaiming it’s the song of the summer. He appears to be a young guy still in education - sixth form maybe? - so I can’t really heavily criticise what is a pretty generic Tion Wayne-esque drill song with bad mixing, nothing flexes and a type beat as the instrumental. I was scanning through so many of his TikToks finding some extra context for his viral hit, but it seems like just shilling for it consistently will give you enough plays with a big following, and there are definitely some very catchy parts of his verses - ironically, all outside of the chorus - that I can understand the virality. One interesting thing I picked up on was that he was defiantly explaining to his followers a word that they had gotten wrong when reciting the lyrics, and jokingly claimed that he wished to delete the song because of this mondegreen until he brought out the original project file for the song to prove this. Nearly every single one of his TikToks had this song or its shitty Jersey club remix in the background, it was maddening. Wish you the best, man.

#32 - “Tough” - Quavo and Lana Del Rey

Produced by Cirkut and watt

If anyone was going to team these two disparate artists up, it was probably Andrew Watt, though the two appear to be friendly which makes sense given Lana’s affinity for hip hop, which is seldom implemented in her music but I enjoy when it is as it ends up surprisingly smooth, especially in cloud rap and trap territory. “Summer Bummer” with A$AP Rocky and Playboi Carti is one of my favourites from her. The conceit of this collab is somewhat comical: a country-influenced song where they both try and prove themselves as “tough” in different ways, with Lana using western cowboy imagery and Quavo harkening back to his days living impoverished in Atlanta, but together, they’re beautiful. It’s very cliché and silly but I can actually connect with that as just a matter of setting the stage for this upcoming Lana country album: suspension of disbelief is important in both country and rap, and especially pop, so I like when artists play around with unfitting narratives. Lana’s vocals are in their typical wispy rasp over the twiddling folksy guitars but Quavo comes in referencing the trap beat that drives into the song he just hopped on, and whilst I did laugh the first time, he adds a bit more emotive rasp to his voice that really works, especially in balance with the more melodic flows he’s able to temper the aggressive delivery with. I also like his informing of the posturing with what he’s genuinely been through, and those two different ideas of what “tough” is between them makes their surprisingly well-done harmonising very compelling. In fact, Lana adds more to Quavo’s posturing in her verse with Huncho himself prompting her lyrics in a cute back-and-forth that makes me believe these guys are actually dating, even though if that was the case, there may not be a mutual depth to how they feel about each other here. That bridge still has a lot of great swell and deviates from what could easily be a tedious novelty if not split apart by a gorgeous interlude that sounds perfect for walking down the aisle. I’m very surprised by the chemistry here, but the dialogue in the outro, whilst obviously corny, sounds like movie dialogue from a dated film, and the way you hear him pasing her the lighter and doing a typical Migos ad-lib injects a lot of Quavo’s personality into a Lana-led song. One of my favourite details is the crack in Lana’s voice where she admits for as much as Lana appreciates the grit and roughness of Mr. Quavious thanks to his upbringing, it’s that same upbringing that makes him tell her some truths a woman like Lana may not want to hear, and I find that a really subtle but effective way of painting the lovestruck soulmates with troubling, nuanced dots. I figured something like this, especially with Quavo releasing more singles than months of the year currently, would be a rushed, comical slap-dash collab but there is a lot more thought into this duet than I expected from even Lana who never really shined outside of her introspection that much. Brilliant song.

#29 - “Tobey” - Eminem featuring Big Sean and BabyTron

Produced by marvy ayy, John Nocito, Carlton McDowell, Daniyel, Eminem and Cole Bennett

As I said with the Zach Bryan review, full thoughts on the latest Eminem comeback, The Death of Slim Shady (Coup de Grace) are on my RateYourMusic page, and thankfully, this song kind of has no relevance to the existing plotline of that album. It’s always an unnecessary stress when a song hits the top 75 and I have to either explain away the conceits of a narrative- or theme-based record that I already wrote some thoughts down on, or end up diving in headfirst to a song from an album I haven’t gotten around to hearing so I can review the one song, but ending up a bit headless thanks to my lack of context. This is a weird case because it’s a pre-album single that was released in the midweek and despite the album having a clear plot and theme you can see even in its lead single, this song has nothing to do with it and this time, it’s on purpose? “Tobey” is one of a few songs on the back-end that show Eminem is still hungry without the Slim Shady persona, and this particular track is him stepping bar-for-bar with a newer cat in Big Sean and so new a cat he may as well be a kitty, BabyTron, of the Detroit ShittyBoyz scam-rap collective, known for his semi-witty punchlines and tight flows. That works a lot better for me when he has an actual groove, especially the constant punchiness of a Detroit trap track but here, we have a beat that I thought was interesting at first and becomes increasingly odd. It makes sense to me for a beat to have no steady percussion line and instead be full of cinematic strings and thwooping, bass-heavy movie trailer sounds - it’s Eminem, after all, I guess he’s catching up to his Christian stan NF - but it just never drops after all the build-up, and that piano line that is also very explicitly Detroit is a tedious loop that never changes but feeds tension into the beat without ever finding build-up, despite obvious lay-ups for that to happen. The verses transition not through smooth sequencing of instruments but through a cloudy void of blurry sound effects, as if the song was made for the music video and nothing else. There’s electric guitars added into the mix because, it’s either Em himself or his main man Luis Resto who are obsessed with adding those to the back of the beat for no reason, there are hi-hats during BabyTron’s verse that just skitter out of existence, and a mix of guitars with cavernous drums and warping synths during the latter two verses from Sean and Em that just drown out the two rappers without ever landing them on a true groove, which only really Eminem can play with in an interesting way. I know it’s Eminem so the beat should not be the focus but this is a bizarre, borderline just experimental beat that sounds kind of terrible most of the time but has so many fascinating bad decisions and moving parts that it’s hard to ignore.

Now for the rappers themselves, as you’d probably expect me to discuss more given again, it’s Eminem, he’s the only person with an interesting concept or flow here. He’s bitter and desperate to prove he’s in top fives - not that he should care but I’m not angry that he does, he’s a lyrical rapper from the 90s, caring about being the best is kind of his job - but unlike Kamikaze, he’s not lashing out at his own fans, he’s lashing out at so-called critics, including Melle Mel, who he very reasonably stamps out for the reason that whilst people prompted him not to respond to the man because he’s a pioneer - a grandmaster, if you will - of the genre, Eminem’s cemented his place just as much as he has and it would be a fair competition between legends. A weird beat always brings out awkward deliveries in Em, and he’s surprisingly not going for the easier, fast-paced deadpan talking both BabyTron and to a lesser extent, Sean, go for here, instead being all over the beat like he has eight legs spread out saying a different bar. It’s a cool approach that means he’s not always perfectly on beat but the beat’s weird, so let him be too, I actually find it much more compelling than BabyTron, who sounds like a bored child lost in the supermarket, even if there are some quotable lines and Detroit references that add a little more spice. Big Sean is selling his anger and hunger much more convincingly, even when faced against this Lovecraftian monster of a beat, and whilst I’m not necessarily invested in Sean because… of course not, his bars hit, his rhyme schemes are solid and he sounds on point the whole time, it’s a focused verse that really balances out Em’s verse. BabyTron is completely lost to that dynamic so the fact that he originated the main conceit of the song, the utterly stupid idea that since Tobey Maguire became Spider-Man after being bitten by a spider, BabyTron and Big Sean must have been bitten by a goats because they’re GOATs, and Eminem must have been the goat / GOAT that bit them. Yeah, there’s a reason why the song’s namesake didn’t deserve being brought up until the last minute. I know this was a hefty review for a pretty middling debut that won’t last, but this really feels like a can of worms hidden on the back-half of an album completely irrelevant to it, even though it was already released as a single and music video. Fascinating little track, honestly. I’m kind of glad we end the week with that nonsense.

Conclusion

Well, it was a big debut week for country or country-adjacent tracks, and this rings well in our conclusion, as Best of the Week obviously goes to Zach Bryan for “28” whilst we have surprisingly close Honourable Mentions for the two duets: “you look like you love me” by Ella Langley and Riley Green and “Tough” with Quavo and Lana Del Rey. As for the worst, that also represents country as Morgan Wallen takes it handedly for the regretful “Lies Lies Lies”, whilst I suppose “Bring Me Joy” by Rudimental and Karen Harding ends up as the Dishonourable Mention. Whatever happens next week, apart from Eminem, I hope there’s not too much to write about because it’ll be a busy Friday for me. Knowing the charts, I won’t get that peace and Peppa fucking Pig will debut a couple songs. Regardless, thank you for reading, long live Cola Boyy, and I’ll see you next week.

[movedtoazrahel]

this is my last upcoming weekend that i'll be free for like...three/four weeks straight lmao. cause the 27th i've got the kenny chesney concert @ orange beach. and then the following weekend is the gulf coast jam. and the weekend after that i'm going sail fishing in the gulf.

[calkale]

i hate when an artist im known for hating has a few good songs

[djrobblog]

Mariah, Morgan, Lil Nas X all try to end Shaboozey’s push towards history.  Only one may succeed.

Mariah Carey vs. Shaboozey: Can Christmas Cheer End the Boozy Reign at No. 1?

(November 17, 2024).  It’s that time of year again when holiday cheer fills the air and nicely decorated homes begin to line neighborhood streets.  Salvation Army bells are jingling and jolly old Santas are trying to find work in the ever dwindling number of shopping malls across America. Most importantly, Christmas Queen Mariah Carey has declared “it’s time,” which can only mean one thing: the…

[allylikethecat]

mahogany 🤎🤎❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

AHHHH Thank you kind anon for sending me a color from the The Colors of the Moots ask game list!! You are now my favorite person and have made my entire night thank you so much 🥰 if anyone else wants to make me the happiest person ever and send a color, or reblog it themselves the list can be found HERE. Also all I could think when seeing this one is that line from the Hunger Games where Effie is like “That is mahogany!" lol

Mahogany - let's go on a late night drive together and listen to one of your playlists.

Yes! Let's! However please just be warned that I am very similar to Fictional!Matty in the sense that I get horrifically carsick so I need to be the one to drive... but also I'm not the best driver and I have astigmatism so I see extra bad at night... but we'll be fine I promise I've only hit one decorative rock ever and also I drive a Toyota SUV so we'll be fine 🫡 my only other concern is that you won't like my current playlist very much.... haha

Thank you so much for sending me this ask!! I love these games SO MUCH! I hope you are having the BEST Monday and that you have a wonderful rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[batarangsoundsdumb]

they are so self aware it's both sad and funny. they've got a song out that's 'whiskey ruined my life' with banger lyrics like 'my ex won't let me see my kids/i dont know who i am without alcohol anymore' and then i see these bitches on a podcast like 'yeah i start every morning with a zyn and a whiskey shot'

country artists who should clearly be going to therapy putting out an album: whiskey song, beer song, 'i wish i was never born' song, hot chicks song, whiskey song, poorly disguised cocaine reference song ft. equally depressed country guy, 'why did she break up with me' song

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷 I just saw @auteurdelabre Trope Off challenge, so I’m tagging this as a meet cute for that!

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys. 

   You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there. 

   When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years. 

   Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

   Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

   Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

   You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 

   He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room. 

   Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

   You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

   And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

   Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

   “You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel. 

   “Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol. 

   “Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

   Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

   Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love. 

   Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

   Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

   It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch. 

   He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

   After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies. 

   Right to you.

—

   Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you. 

   Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you. 

   You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.  

   This is a good sign.

   When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body. 

   He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

   You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

   It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

  “Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.  

   “Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

   “‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

   Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

   Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

   He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

   “My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

   “Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face. 

   God, he’s so handsome.

   “Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

   He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

   “Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question. 

   He just asked you to dance.

   “Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

   “You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

   “Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

   “Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him. 

   “Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

   “Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

   “Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it. 

   Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

   He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

   The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly. 

   The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet. 

   You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

   “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

   “And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you. 

   “Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

   “Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

   “The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

   “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” 

   “Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh. 

   “I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

   “Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love. 

   “And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman. 

   He’s fucking perfect. 

   He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

   “So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

   “Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

   “Me?” you ask, taken aback. 

   “Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

   “There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

   “Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

   “Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

   “That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

   “No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

   “S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

   “I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

   “No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

   “Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

   “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

   “Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

   “Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

   You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

   He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

   “If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

   He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

   “I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

   You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

   He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

   Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?” 

   “Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

   “You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

   “Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

   You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

   He’s perfect. 

   “So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

   “I’m a vet assistant.”

   “Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips. 

   “Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

   He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him. 

   “So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

   “Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

   “My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now. 

   “Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms. 

   “Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage. 

   He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

   Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too. 

   “You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

   You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.” 

   “You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

   “You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue. 

   He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

   “Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

   “S’right. My cowgirl.”

   My cowgirl. 

   Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin. 

   As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings. 

   You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him. 

   “Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into  a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

   Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

   He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy. 

   Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

   Lovely lady May.

   His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too. 

   As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere. 

   His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

   He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you. 

   But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May. 

   His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

   One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

   “Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

   “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

   “And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

   “I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

   You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

   He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame. 

   His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue. 

   And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

   Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

   He’s all you know now. 

   You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

   He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

   And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

   He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could. 

   After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own. 

   You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common. 

   It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you. 

   He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

   “So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight. 

   He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart. 

   “Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls. 

   “That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

   “Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

   “All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

   “All yours,” you confirm.

   He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole. 

   This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away. 

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

[518td]

Morgan Wallens Bar 🤘🏽

[justwhisperingfantasies]

daemonium amor

A/n :A drabble for🎉 @rubyvhs 500 song challenge celebration 🎉

430ish words

Warnings- Angst, Couple fighting,

His eyes rose from the book as the clacking of her heeled boots on the tile caught his attention. His gazed traveled up as she passed him, feeling a prickle of excitement as he took in those skinny jeans hugging her curves, that silky black tank cut low enough to show off just enough, her curls bouncing with every step.

A wave of nausea made its way from the pit his stomach, when she picked up her leather jacket and swung it around her. He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his whiskey. “Let me guess.” He sneered.

She paused just before the entrance to the war room. “You’re seriously mad right now?” He stayed silent, prompting her to spin around. “How did you think this was going to be?”

His jaw clenched, as he felt the anger stir within him.

She slowly made her way over to him. “Did you think I would just settle down and be the perfect little housewife?” she mocked, running her fingers through his hair.

He scoffed, “Didn’t expect you to keep making deals.” He shook away her fingers and stood up, turning to face her.

“You knew what I was going into this.” she closed the space between them, gliding her hands up his chest making his face twist in pain.

“Don’t!”  He pushed her hands away and stomped over to the bar cart.

“Dean, why did you start this if you couldn’t handle.”

“Like I have a choice.” he shouted, cutting off her question.

“And you think I do?” she retorted.

She sighed, the clanking started behind him again, quieter this time, her strides hesitant as she made her way to him. He let out a deep breath, attempting to let go of the frustration that bubbled within him, as her arms wrapped around him from behind. He turned around, breaking her hold.

He grasped her hand and brought it gently to his lips. “Stay.”

“Dean…”

His fingers slid to the nape of her neck as he gently pressed his lips against her forehead.

“We will figure it out. There must be something.”

“I gotta go.” Every muscle in his body tensed at her words. She stepped back, leaving his arms longing for her as they dropped to his side. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t bother.”

She nodded and the clacking started again, with every step his anger intensified.

The bunker door slammed shut and his fury boiled over, sending the chair crashing against the cement wall, shattering it into fragments.

Tag List

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[madhatterbri]

I Had Some Help | D.P.

Summary: Y/N wakes up next to Damian Priest and he reminds her he isn't the only one that helped get them in bed.

Author's Note: I love song fic requests because there are so many ways a person can interpret the song. ❤️

Requested by: @new-zealand-chic

Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @smallestsnarkestgirl @brideofinfamy @magicalbuttertarts

"Oh, no, no, no, princesa. I had some help," Damian told the woman in his bed. She had a sheet covering her body as if he hadn't seen all of it the night before. Y/N opened her mouth yet closed it. She didn't remember what exactly happened last night. Embarrassed, she asked him to remind her. A smile popped in his mind as he reminisced.

They were the last two at the hotel bar. He was celebrating another victory against his former best friend, Finn Balor. Damian could see the girl from across the bar. She giggled and waved at him. He smiled politely and waved back. The Archer of Infamy didn't think anything else of the matter until she sat next to him.

He struck up friendly conversations with her. Mostly because he was in a good mood and the adult beverages were kicking in. Also, she was pretty cute. They started to flirt with each other. One thing led to another, and they kissed.

They continued with physical intimacy. Hands and lips rarely left the other. She was fun to be around. The liquor really loosened Y/N up, and she ended up having the same sense of humor as her. They lost track of time, and the bartender informed them the bar was closed.

"I think I should help you to you room," Damian chuckled when they walked into the elevator. They both reached to pick the same number.

"Looks like you can," she giggled. Their lips locked again. Damian couldn't quite remember the parts from the elevator to the room. He only remembered when they made it to his room.

"I was thinking we could both stay here to help with our hangovers," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N remained in place, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He kissed the side of her neck. She sighed and moved her head to the side.

His fingers laced hers as he led Y/N to his bed. She sat on his bed. He kissed her lips. "So perfect,"

She blushed.

"You are cute when you blush,” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His lips were taunting as they moved down to graze the column of her throat. She felt the sharpness of his teeth slide over her skin, and the breath she didn’t know she was holding exhaled in a long, needy moan.

Her eyes rolled when his calloused palms slid beneath her dress, straight to her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart for him. Y/N grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, crashing her lips with his to give him the answer.

He hastily pulled her dress up to bunch around her waist. He seemed to lack patience, and she didn’t attest. Y/N worked on his belt, hands fumbling to get it undone, and he looked down at the struggle with an amused smirk before he stepped back to do it himself.

“Eager?” He smirks. She pulled him back and worked on the buttons of his shirt, but her fingers halted, and her mind spiraled into a blurred haze when she felt him push into her, bottoming out in one swift motion. Grabbing onto his shoulders, she looked up and found that infamous smirk dripping in arrogance.

“Now who’s eager?” Y/N quirked a brow. All she received was a twitch of the corner of Damian's mouth before he wrapped his hands beneath her thighs and hiked them up, holding them firmly at his sides. His hips snapped, the force unforgiving.

With every thrust, the bed hit the wall, the bangs echoing throughout the bedroom. Y/N's head fell back as he rocked into you, two buttons of his shirt letting a sliver of tanned skin and pieces of his tattoos peeking through. He drew his lip beneath his teeth as he picked up the pace. Sweat beads formed at his temple, sliding down to his jaw as he stared directly into Y/N's eyes, unable to look away when she was taking him so well.

“Taking me so well,” he breathily rasped as he kissed her. Her mouth opened, but no words flew past them. Her mind scrambled, and her body set ablaze. It’s a wonder she could even keep her eyes on him.

“You feel so good," she breathlessly moaned, cupping his jaw and swiping her thumb over his bottom lip before she leaned forward and pressed hers to him. He picked up the pace, his thrusts gaining momentum, so much so that Y/N couldn’t hold the kiss. He smirked against her lips and leaned back up, grabbing her leg and hiking her ankle up to his shoulder. He placed a kiss on her inner calf before he leaned forward again, his lips latching to your neck.

Y/N's knee brushed her cheek as he rocked into her. The new angle made her feel him so much deeper that she couldn’t contain the incomprehensible sounds spewing from her lips. She arched her hips to match his thrusts. She clenched around him every time he pulled back, just to draw him right back in.

“Do that again.” He grunted against her neck. She kept arching her hips, lifting them off the bed every time he thrust back into her.

“Shit, just like that - right there.” His deep voice slightly trembled. He was losing his composure, and she knew it. She clenched him as tight as she could just to hear the curses he let out against her shoulder.

“I’m so close,” she managed to break out, her hips ferociously raising to chase after that high that was so close she could taste it. He wordlessly brought a hand down between their slick bodies and started working his thumb on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Y/N's eyes rolled back, his name flew past her lips, and hers rolled off his tongue twice. Her body jolted with the last three thrusts before she felt herself succumb completely. She held onto him for dear life as he rocked her through the high, slowing the thrusts significantly to make sure she rode it out as long as she could. He pulled back up and locked his lips with hers just as his high took hold.

His hips stuttered, then stilled, and she took every last bit he had to offer. Two more breathy kisses, and he pulled back, a lazy smirk and droopy eyes to match on his face. He looked at her with adoration.

“I guess you did have a little help," she whispered sheepishly. Y/N slid out of the bed to gather her clothes.

"You don't have to just leave. I'd like to get to know you. Want to do brunch?"

[mrsoulstice]

🤠Oh my, Good lord🤠

Shaboozey's “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” surpasses Morgan Wallen's “Last Night” to become the #1 biggest country chart hit of the 2020s decade globally

[spnbabe67]

The Simple Act of Breaking Hearts

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings:��This is pure angst (fucking made me cry writing this), Hurt/No Comfort, Slapping, Cursing, Dean is a belligerent drunk, implications of cheating, implications of child death (nothing graphic)

Summary: After a hunt involving multiple casualties, Dean goes missing. When Tori finds him, words are exchanged and ties are cut. When Dean comes to the following morning, he is forced to face his actions.

Word Count: 1694

Authors Notes: This was inspired by the songs Last Night by Morgan Wallen and Something In the Orange by Zach Bryan

Let me know if y'all want a part two

It had been a hard hunt. None of them had realized that the nest of vamps was working with a demon, and by the time they figured it out, 3 small children were dead and two more, Tori and Sam had sent to the hospital in critical condition. Like always, Dean had taken their deaths the hardest, not to mention Tori herself had a nasty black eye and a gash slicing across her bicep. Despite her protests that she was fine, Dean still insisted on doing the stitches himself. After he'd completed the last stitch, Dean had fled her room. That was two hours ago, and Tori hadn't seen him since. Well, that was until she found him in some rundown tavern just outside Lebanon city limits.

The first thing Tori noticed as she set foot into the bar was the blasting music, followed by the stench of body odor mingling with cheap alcohol. It was nearly enough to make her vomit, and definitely, enough to trigger an ache at the base of her skull from all her senses being assaulted at once. Tori swallowed hard and made her way, weaving through the throng of bodies. It wasn't hard to find Dean, she'd know him anywhere. The hunter she'd lived with, whose clothes she mixed in with hers, the hunter who'd just a week ago shared her bed.  But what she wasn't expecting, was the scantily clad blonde practically curled up in his lap, the two sequestered away in a booth near the back. Tori felt ice flood her veins, making her shiver despite the overwhelming heat in the bar. She licked her lips, huffing an irritated sigh as she walked up to the table.

"Mind if I join you." Tori bit out, ire practically leaking from her body.

If Dean was surprised to see her, then he didn't show it as he spoke. "Actually, I think we do." 

The girl on his lap looked up at Tori with a heavy-lidded gaze from where she had been nuzzling at Deans neck. It took years of masking and self control to keep the rage bubbling up in check and not drag the woman by her bottle blonde hair and throw her to the ground.

"Well to fucking bad, Dean." Tori pulled her eyes away from where the girl was sucking another dark mark against Dean's tanned skin, adding to the myriad of them already littering his skin. "Tell your," Tori ran her tongue over her teeth, "Friend, to go get us another round of drinks."

Tori, pulled a few bills from her pocket, slamming them hard enough onto the table to rattle the empty tumblers and cast a few glances their way. One sharp look from Tori had the onlookers quickly returning to their conversations. The blonde looked at Dean and he leaned in whispering in her ear, nipping at the skin below it before pulling away. The woman crawled over Dean to snatch the bills from the table, sauntering up to the bar.

"What are you doing here, Tori." Dean slurred, knocking back what was left of his drink before slinging an arm over the back of the booth. 

"I'm bringing you home, Dean. We were fucking worried." Tori started, curling her hands into fists to keep the tears that threatened to well up at bay. "Sam was worried. I was worried."

"Yeah, well, I'm fine." Dean snapped back, words sharp as a blade. "You can go tattle to Sam and tell him I'm fine. Peachy even."

"Dean. I love you, and I will not let you drink yourself to death."

Dean chuckled darkly, the sound roiling some uneasy part in Tori's stomach. "Yeah, well the feelin' ain't mutual sweetheart."

And like that, the bottom of Tori's heart fell straight into her stomach. She took a shuddering breath, shaking her head. "You don't mean that."

"I do." Dean shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "What're you  gonna do about it? Cry?"

Tori blinked, eyes blurry with tears. How could he be so fucking cruel? It was sheer will now keeping her from breaking down completely, and even that was beginning to slowly crumble.

"Fuck you, Winchester." Tori spat, clenching her fists so hard she barely registered the blood trickling from where her nails had bit through the flesh of her palms. "You're drunk."

Dean got up from the table, legs unsteady enough for him to place a hand on the table to prevent himself from falling. Tori reached out, but he slapped her hand away. He took a step forward, their chests millimeters from touching. She could smell the alcohol on his breath invading her nose and into her lungs to the point Tori wondered if she could get drunk if she breathed deep enough. 

"And you're a nothing but a fucking slut. But you know what?" Dean gripped her chin, making her gaze shift from where she had been staring a hole into his chest to meet his. "In the morning I'll be sober, and you'll still be a pathetic whore who sucks the life out of people."

Tori's hand made contact with Dean's face before she had time to think. Her eyes were drawn to the lines of red dripping down his face from where the impact of her nails had sliced into his face, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I wish I'd never met you." Tori snarled, ripping Dean's hand from her face before he spun on her heel and disappeared back into the wave of patrons with no look back.

The first thing Dean registered when he woke up the next morning, was the pounding in his head. It was a herculean task for him to crack his eyes open. All he could remember was leaving the bunker, images of the dead on a reel in his mind, driving to a bar. Flashes kept coming in and out, drinking at a bar, Tori being there, but most too fast for him to comprehend. At least not while he was this hung over. Dean rubbed a fist against his eyes before blinking them open. It was much to his confusion when he was met with the sight of a naked woman sharing his bed. A naked woman that was very much not Tori, and in a bed that was very much not his room at the bunker. A sinking feeling started to nag at the back of his mind. He sat up, not caring if he woke the blonde woman in the bed, surveying the dingy motel room. If the sun peeking through the cracks in the yellowed blinds had indication, there were several hours between the present and the last sober memory he could recall.

Dean slipped out of the bed, frowning at his own nakedness before slipping himself back into the jeans that were discarded on the floor. He closed the bathroom door behind him before walking to the sink. He cursed under his breath as he beheld the blue and black mottling the left side of his face along with the two or three small cuts on his cheekbone. He ran the water in the sink cold before splashing it onto his face. The icy water was enough to send a shock through his system and the dam broke. Everything came flooding back like the water tumbling from the tap. Getting rip roaring drunk, making out with the blonde in the bathroom, Tori showing up, his downright vile words, her slapping him before disappearing as quickly as she came, tumbling through the motel room with the woman in the bed. 

"Fuck." Dean whispered, before turning the water off and stumbling back into the room, hastily pulling his shirt on. He didn't take the time to tie his boots before running out of the motel room.

Dean was sure he'd broken a significant number of driving laws getting back to the bunker, not bothering to lock Baby before making his way into the bunker. The silence he'd grown to love about he bunker was now eerie without the sound of Tori's laughter, the music she'd blare while doing practically anything. His heart sunk as he approached his room, the door left cracked open. He slowly pushed it the rest of the way. Just days before he'd helped Tori move her stuff into his room. But now, every trace of her was gone. The bed was made, with every piece of clothing she had borrowed from him folded neatly on her side. A quick check in the dresser revealed that her clothes, along with the ones in the closet, were gone.

Dean's eyes slid to the desk, where Tori's sketchbook and pencils had taken up residence. Those were gone too. And in their stead, was a single folded piece of notebook paper addressed to him and a set of key. One was a copy of the key to the Bunker he had made for Tori when she officially moved into the bunker years ago, and the other was the key to the car she'd fixed up in her time here, the car Dean had given to her for her birthday last year. Dean took the note with a gentleness you'd think he held a bomb, not a piece of paper. He slumped down onto his bed, and with a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, opened it and began reading the note written in Tori's familiar, elegant scrawl.

Dean,

By the time you read this, I'll be long gone. Don't bother asking Sam where I went, he got his own note, but nothing regarding my whereabouts. The keys to the bunker and to the car are on your desk. I took nothing I didn't come here with, or bought on my own. 

I'm not sure if I'm to thank you or curse you for the memories over the years. Those aren't so easily washed away as it was to wash the clothes I stole from you. I owe you no debts, and you owe me nothing in return. I wish you no ill will, only the best, which is what you deserve

Don't bother coming to look for me. I've disappeared once, I know how to do it again. 

Love,

Tori