#pie in the sky predictions

[douwatahima]

just so we're clear i do understand how ironic it is that i made that last post given that i've been consistently clowning over wanting a trailer. what can i say, logically and emotionally i am at very different places wrt season 2 lmao.

[loveshotzz]

bartender!eddie x fem!reader Eddie’s night.

🎵my man gives real love that’s why I call him killer, he’s not a ‘wham! bam! thank you ma’am!’ he’s a thriller.🎵

summary: After being stood up on a blind date, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with keeps you company.

word count: 12.6k

warnings: 90’s AU / 18 + no minors! /eddie is in his early 30’s, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi public smut (p in v), cream pie, dirty talk.

authors note: my love letter to the 90’s 💕after one month of brain storming and three weeks of writing here’s part one of Whatta Man! Eddie’s night. (This is a singular one shot. Steve’s night is part two, can you find the easter eggs for his night 😉)Thank you to my very talented friends who always brain storm with me and share ideas. This fun lil AU wouldn’t have happened with you. ily 💗 edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

You didn’t want to go on this date. Not when your roommate set you up, and you certainly didn’t want to go when he picked The Foxy Lounge. But when Weather Man Mike predicted the first warm day after three months of bitter winter you’d take any excuse to wear your favorite dress. 

You’d been here before, always stumbling in after a night out with friends because they were the only 4am place in town. Those late nights turned to early mornings were more of a thing of the past now so when you got to the familiar chipped red door you didn’t recognize the bouncer standing outside. He has a head of honey colored hair that’s just long enough to run his fingers through. His toned frame sits pretty wrapped in a tight black tee and long legs covered in dark wash jeans tight enough for you to really have to focus on keeping  your eyes on his face. A freckle covered neck leads to a strong jaw and a chiseled nose. Leaning against the brick wall with his boots crossed at the ankles a toothpick twirls between his straight teeth.

The platform of your sneakers hitting the pavement as you come to a stop and the jingle of your power beads alerts him of your presence, hazel eyes going round like the moon in the sky. Straightening his posture he snatches the tooth pick out of his mouth, stuffing it in his back pocket. You swear you see a Tamagotchi tucked away as he clears his throat with a puff of his chest.

“I.D.?” 

Your lips twitch, the forced deep baritone in his voice isn’t fooling you, and you wonder if it fooled anyone when the signature beep of a Tomogatchi pet needing to be fed goes off in his back pocket. He coughs to try to cover the noise while you quickly pull what he needs out of your cross body. Holding it out for him to examine you look up with a glossed smile matching the one in the picture. Narrowing his eyes, you catch a glimmer of playfulness when he clicks on his flashlight. 

Examining it like it could be a fake, you bite back a giggle while he turns it around giving it one more once over before handing it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Funny, we have the same birthday.” His voice comes out normal this time, soft and friendly just like you thought.

“Twins!”

A genuine smile lights up his face like the sign above your head, his boyish features coming out despite the stubble on his chin.

“Might as well call us the Olsen’s.” Throwing you a wink he pulls the gold handle to open the door for you. The sounds of Return of the Mack break through the hums of the street behind you. “Have fun tonight honey, be safe. If anyone bothers you, just come grab me okay? I’m steve.”

Your cheeks heat up at the endearment and you have to remind yourself that you’re here for a date. You catch a hint of his cologne when your shoulder brushes against his chest on your way in, the expensive scent making you dizzy when it hits your senses.

“I will, thanks Steve,”your words are shy when they come out, making his lips twitch in response. Nodding his head, you catch the tinge of pink on his skin before he closes the door with a small wave.

It's even louder inside with the drunk conversations battling for dominance against the music. Tugging nervously at the bottom of your dress you look around the bar for the vague description of this guy Craig your friend gave you. 

You scan the crowd a few times before your eyes catch the big brown ones of the bartender. The stool in front of him freeing itself at the same time your eyes connect, the corners of his plush lips pull up as he beckons you over with two heavily ringed fingers. The unruly dark auburn curls that hit just below his shoulders catch the low light behind the bar, the yellow glow softening up all his edges. 

Rocking back on your heels you pull the strap of your cross body closer, doing your best to collect yourself before you push through the crowd accepting his invitation. His smile widens, pulling up his stubble covered cheeks to reveal a set of perfect white teeth to you. The one you give him in return comes out a little shy as you plop down on the ripped vinyl that matches the red of the door.

Ink litters his arms disappearing under the frayed ends of his sleeves letting you know there was more under the tight fit of his worn faded black Metallica shirt. The two rips near the collar give you a glimpse of the chain wrapped around his neck. The scruff lining his jaw adds a few years from afar but from this close he looks your age. The silver hoop in his nose catches against the bright lighting under the bar like the rings adoring his fingers. Pulling out two empty shot glasses with a twirl he quickly fills them up with Jameson.

“This one’s on the house sweetheat, it’ll help make your date cuter.”  He winks with a sly grin, your stomach flutters with his full attention on you like this.

The glass is heavy in your grasp as you stare at the dark liquid with a faint grimace. His low chuckle catches your attention before the pop and hiss of the soda fills your ears. As if reading your mind he slides over a coke, letting you keep your pride by not having to ask for a chaser.

“How do you know I’m here for a date?” Raising a questioning brow, the sides of your lips twitch as you struggle to hold a straight face. “A girl can’t come to the bar alone on a Friday night?”

The chocolate in his eyes lights up at your playful banter, slinging a white towel over his shoulder he leans in, forearms pressing hard against the counter as he invades your space. The spice of his cologne and the burn of cigarette smoke joins with him and you find yourself sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you telling me you’re available then?” Dropping his voice low enough to feel between your legs, you wished more than anything you had a different answer to give him.

The heaviness of his gaze has your cheeks warming, the intensity of the eye contact forcing your gaze away for a second as you clear your throat. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear you muster enough courage to meet his eyes again. 

“N-no unfortunately, you were right.” Exaggerating a heavy sigh, his confident demeanor never wavers despite his confirmed suspicions.

“Unfortunately is right, huh?” Winking, he pushes back leaving only the lingering scent of his cologne raising his shot in an offering of cheers. “To what could have been, baby.” 

A giggle bubbles past your lips when his fingers brush against yours meeting in the middle with a clink. Downing his shot like a professional, he’s left to watch the way you struggle with yours. Amusement is evident on his face while he watches the way your throat stays unwilling to open. Holding the alcohol in your mouth longer than anyone would want, it finally gives in letting the bitter liquid go down with a bite. Pushing the can of coke towards you with his knuckles, his laugh booms loud from his chest as you search for reprieve in the sweetness with desperation.

Chugging with abandon, you forget your surroundings for a second before your eyes meet his over the rim of the can and it’s almost enough to have you snort the rest of it all over yourself. 

Coming up for air you grumble a half assed “shut up” doing your best to try and fight the smile begging to spread across your lips as you wipe them with the back of your hand.

“Not a whiskey girl I take it?” Punctuating the ‘t’ harder than normal, his teasing falls on deaf ears when you get distracted at the way his thick fingers wrap around the shot glasses.

“Not a shot girl in general, I’d rather not taste the alcohol if I can help it.” Shrugging, you trace invisible patterns on the sticky quartz of the bar top with french tipped nails silently reminding yourself for the second time tonight you’re here for a date.

“So how’d you two meet?” He raises his voice so it comes out sickly sweet while a shaker and a lemon appears in his hands. Setting them down on top of the worn jagermeister logo that covers the drink mat he starts rolling the fruit against his palm.

“We haven’t met yet actually, a friend set us up.” 

Eddie’s movements freeze for a second, eyebrows furrowing together in a look of confusion as if that was the craziest thing that anyone had ever told him. He grabs the bottle of simple syrup adding more to what looked like it was going to be a sweet drink before he answers.

“Someone like you shouldn’t need to be set up, sweetheart.” He looks up at you from under the hood of his lashes quickly picking up on the effect he has on you.

He twirls another empty glass onto the counter top before he smashes the lid of the shaker on, not giving you a chance to respond he starts shaking it louder than you know is necessary. The bats tattooed on his arm dance across the muscles with the flex of every flick of his wrist.

“Really? Laying it on thick, huh?” Raising your voice enough to know he could hear you, he taunts you by cupping his free hand over his ear to make a show of pretending he can’t, mouthing a ‘sorry’ with a smirk. The laugh he earns from when he finally relents is the prettiest sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“Well I hope this ‘friend’ has a good vetting process. No less than three interviews or no dice.” He pours your drink with panache, like he’s putting on a show for you, like you’re sure he does with all the other girls.

Grabbing a straw he plugs one end with his index finger before he dips it into the slightly lighter liquid. The heat between your legs becomes almost unbearable when his lips wrap around the end tasting his creation with a low groan, his pink tongue pokes out to collect the sweetness left behind.

“I think, I think you’re gonna like this one. It’s an Eddie Munson original, I’m calling it "Wasting Love.” The roll of your eyes makes him bark out another laugh. The signs of the smoke you smell on him are more noticeable in this one’s rumble.

“I wonder what could have inspired it?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you knew you shouldn’t be flirting with him while you waited for Craig, but you can’t help yourself. Besides, he was already ten minutes late.

“I think you know what inspired it sweetheart, I can tell you’re not just some pretty face.” Dimples poking through his cheeks, he finally takes notice of the glares from the customers filling up the bar. Everyone’s patience starting to wear thin while they waited for whatever this was to be over. 

“I gotta stop ignoring all the other people in here real quick, but I’ll be back for your review.” He throws you another wink and it has you shifting in your seat as he starts to walk away.

“Wait! I never opened a tab!” Calling after him as you reach for your purse, he tuts loudly, turning around to face you, continuing his path walking backwards. 

“You shouldn’t be paying for a thing tonight, gorgeous.” He waves his hand dismissively before his back is to you again giving his undivided attention to the bearded man who looked ready to murder the carefree metal head if he didn’t get his Bud Light in the next five seconds.

Trying not to get too caught up in someone that wasn’t your date you timidly bring the straw to your lips. Humming appreciatively when the sweetness hits your tastebuds you’re pleasantly surprised at how much you actually like it. Feeling bold enough to take a bigger gulp, you look around for Craig again. So lost in the little bubble you had been in with Eddie you didn’t realize how much more the bar had filled up since you arrived. A new kind of rowdy energy in the air — the low murmurs of conversation get loud enough to drown out Semi- Charmed Kinda Life.

Glancing down at your pink swatch watch, your date was now twenty minutes late. Turning around to check and make sure the lavender cross body you told him to look for was visible, you crane your neck around looking one last time. It’s easy to shrug off the sinking feeling of rejection when you turn back around to watch Eddie in his natural habitat. 

He moves behind the bar like he’s been doing it his whole life, like everything was muscle memory.  As if he could feel you staring he catches your gaze throwing you a smirk before he tosses a bottle of tequila in the air catching it with ease. Pouring it into four lined up shot glasses, the group of girls in front of him celebrating what looked like a bachelorette party with all their multi-colored hats and boas squealed with drunk delight. Your eyes hit the back of your skull in a hard roll when one of them bats their eyelashes at him with a hand on his arm.

Sucking down the rest of your drink, the slurping once you hit the ice is loud enough to annoy the guy next to you who shoots you a warning look over his shoulder. Mouthing an apology you push your empty glass away looking around the bar one more time. The guilt of flirting with Eddie starts to disappear when you look at your watch again and start coming to terms you were actually being stood up. Searching for his doe eyes again, your heart sinks when you find him this time.

Dimples in his cheeks again, he’s practically beaming at her. Their body language telling you this isn’t their first time meeting and how animated he is when he talks to her is like he’s known her for years. Gesturing wildly with his hands while she nods enthusiastically, something he says has her throwing her head back with a laugh loud enough you can hear it over the music. You huff through your nose, the sting of rejection sneaking its way back in. The reminder that he was just doing his job and you were here for a date, one that never showed up, slaps you right in the face.

Averting your gaze to spare whatever confidence you have left, your eyes find the bouncer at the front door. Inside the bar now with a hard glare set on his handsome face. His arms sit folded across his broad chest while his jaw clenches at the same time as the muscles in his shoulders flex. Steve looks pissed.

Interest piqued, you follow his line of sight despite it going in the direction of the bar you were trying to avoid. Somehow not surprised when your eyes land on her again, you notice Eddie has already busied himself with someone else. With his back towards both of you he fills two pints with Blue Moon, the uncomfortable look on her face couldn’t be missed. The greasy blonde hair on the man that was clearly invading her personal space told you he’d been drinking all day. The grimace on her pretty face says she could smell it on his breath too.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when you see him grab onto her arm while trying to whisper in her ear. You feel yourself ready to stand up and help when she pushes him away, with the way the veins in her neck were flexing whatever she was saying to him wasn't nice. Shoving her hand in his face she storms towards the front door where Steve is waiting, looking seconds away from killing the man who followed her path out of the bar with a leer.

The scowl on her face softens instantly when she’s met with Steve opening the door, the glare on his face being replaced with a deep flush when you catch a “Thanks, Stevie” fall appreciatively from her lips.

SMACK

Jumping at the sound of metal hitting wood, Eddie’s dimples show themselves only this time they are for you as he leans forward on his arms again, eyes flicking towards the spot next to you. He pulls himself even closer when he notices no one new occupying the stool, making you search for friction with the fat of your thighs. 

“Penny for your thoughts, beautiful?” Flashing you his perfect teeth for the second time tonight the bruise to your ego already starts to disappear.

“I drank it without gagging, didn’t I?” Crossing your arms on top of the bar it's your turn to lean into his space and you swear you hear his breath hitch at your new boldness.

Licking his lips, your eyes greedily follow the path of his tongue. His smile stretches across his face even more when he notices, making no effort to move- unwilling to back down from the silent standoff you’ve challenged him too.

“‘I’ll have you know I take that as a very high compliment coming from you.” His breath fans across your cheeks from this close, mint and whiskey hitting your nose when he huffs a laugh. “Where’s Prince Charming?”

“Turns out there was no Prince, just an ugly old toad.” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you look up at him through half lidded eyes, “Good thing I didn’t kiss him, huh?”

A low rumble shakes in his chest as he dares to lean in even closer, the tips of your noses almost brushing while the bubble you’d lost yourselves in reappears.

“Yeah baby, you can’t give those out to just anybody, they gotta be for someone special.” His voice is low, dripping with the kind of want you’d never had directed at you before. His eyes take in every inch of your face from this close while you try to keep up with his smooth tongue.

“Got anyone in mind, Eddie?” Doing your best to match his tone, his brows pinch together at the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth taking one last look at your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah, I know a guy actually. He’s a bartender with a great head of hair.” Wiggling his eyebrows when you snort, the front door swings open, breaking you two apart as the girl from before commands the room like a record scratch, silencing the bar for the first time all night.

“Eddie! It’s bad, Steve needs you!” The sheer panic in her voice is enough for the jealous monster inside you to stay at bay as Eddie pushes back on his heels.

An irritated sigh escapes him while he mutters ‘not a-fucking-gain’ under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before his eyes find yours. You jump a little when he grabs your hands, the warmth of his palms enveloping yours while he gives you a pleading look.

“Don’t - I mean, please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back, I need to go save my buddy’s ass again. But I promise I’ll be right back, this conversation is too important to leave unfinished.” He flashes you that million dollar smile like chaos isn’t ensuing outside and all you can do is nod, signaling that you’ll stay put.

Hopping over the bar his loose fitting combat boots squeak over the counter top, the black jeans that were hidden from your sight somehow fit him even better than his shirt. Your gaze is shamelessly hungry as it follows him until he’s out the door. The scuffle outside leaking through the music with a blur of bodies outside. 

Too focused on the glimpse of Eddie’s towering frame stepping between the two guys to break up the fight, you don’t notice the person who walks through the unattended door until it shuts behind him with a thud. Ready to glare at whoever it is your eyes widen when you meet the ones belonging to who you can only assume is Craig. The burnt auburn hair he sports and the way he zero’s in on your purse confirms your suspicions. This was Craig, you're incredibly late and not even remotely as attractive as the bartender, date.

“Shit, shit, shit.” No matter how quickly you averted your stare, you knew it was too late, he saw you. Panic sets in while your brain goes a mile a minute trying to think a way out of this.

Looking around the bar for some sort of escape, the thought of ducking into the bathroom sounds like a winner but then the image of Eddie coming back and seeing you gone seeps into the forefront of your mind making you quickly toss that idea out the window. Turning to the people on either side of you who are too lost in their own conversations to notice your dilemma, you try to decide which one you could interrupt the most naturally. 

The couple on your right looks like they’re on a date going really well and the one on your left seems like two friends catching up. The tap on your shoulder is enough for you to make a split second decision, clearing your throat you spare the newly blossoming romance next you from your desperate antics, choosing to interrupt the friends who are reconnecting with a loud fake laugh.

“That’s when she told me- um excuse me do I know you?” Gruff and confused, the man closest to you looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads. First your loud slurping and now this? This plan was never going to work from the get-go.

Another persistent tap on your shoulder has you grasping for straws. You open your mouth to try to sell whatever this was one last time. 

“Umm excuse me?”  Craig’s voice comes out loud enough to cut you off and for the poor guy next to you to give you the final cold shoulder. Unable to ignore him any longer, you force yourself to turn around and face him head on. Kind of. 

Channeling your inner Alicia Silverstone you try to give him the best Clueless look you can muster and he returns it with an even more confused expression, clearing his throat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Craig, Ariana’s friend. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you?” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his tan slacks, the maroon sweater he wears fits loosely over his thin frame, dirty black chucks on his feet, his look screams ‘I listen to Nirvana’.

“Umm, I think you have the wrong person? I wasn’t supposed to be meeting anyone here tonight.” It’s not believable in the slightest when the words leave your mouth, your less than confident delivery giving you away. The look on his face lets you know you’ve definitely been made

“Are you sure? I was told to look for the girl with a lavender purse.”  As if to prove his point he points to the exact one he’s talking about slung across your shoulder. He scoffs when you keep up with your charade, “I know I’m late but this is ridiculous.”

“A lot of girls have purple bags, Craig.” His name comes out dripping in venom, the need to get rid of him before Eddie’s return throwing any logic out the window. You needed to believe your own lie.

The sudden harshness has him raising his hands in defense, backing down a little under the daggers of your glare.

“Whoa, chill out, my bad. You just match the exact description I was given, that's all.”

Clenching your jaw in frustration because he just won’t give up, you try to hold your composure while your eyes flick towards the door in anticipation for his return.

“Well you’ve told me you were late twice already so she probably just left. Rude of you to keep her waiting honestly.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you know that he’s aware of exactly what you are doing but you don’t care anymore.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happened, and not her being bitter I’m one measly hour late.” The way his words clip signal the rejection sinking in, a glare setting firm on his face.

It’s the stare down of the century before Eddie comes barging through the entrance with a loud huff and a clap of his hands. Cheeks red from yelling and hair slightly more wild than before. He checks to make sure you’re still exactly where he left you before he glances over to Craig for a split second not registering who he is. Hopping over the bar with another skid of his boots, he still manages to give you a lopsided grin when he gets to the other side. Hitting the top of the bar in a series of beats - he’s a ball of energy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting sweetheart, Steve’s lucky the girl he took a knuckle sandwich for has a first aid kit. Rick keeps saying he’s gonna get one but I have yet to see it. Want another cocktail?” Talking a mile a minute with the leftover adrenaline from the fight, he still doesn’t notice the way Craig watches the two of you until he catches how awkward you’re being. Eddie’s face hardens, the softness he was giving you disappearing. “Something I can help you with buddy?”

You don’t even have to look at Craig to know he’s puffing out his chest with a point of his chin addressing Eddie.

“Actually pal, maybe you can.” His tone makes Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, a tested smile spreading over his lips while he lets Craig continue. “I was supposed to meet someone here for a blind date, I was told to look for a girl with a lavender purse exactly like this one. You haven't seen another girl with this exact same bag have you?” 

Eddie’s wide eyes meet yours, amusement filling the specks of golden brown as he picks up on exactly what’s happening. The corners of his lips twitch before he nods his head licking his bottom lip holding your gaze long enough to make you squirm before bringing his attention back to Craig with a low whistle.

“Oh yeah, I remember that hottie, man. It’s a shame you were late, she took off with this dude she met waiting for you. She didn’t stand a chance, though, honestly. I know the guy, he’s too smooth for his own good. Pretty good looking too. Can’t be leaving your girl unattended around him. Probably wouldn’t have worked out between you two anyway.” Eddie catches the roll of your eyes at his self indulgent story as you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to hide your face splitting grin.

“Why don’t you walk away with some dignity. What’s that saying? There’s always more fish in the sea or some shit.” Eddie adds more salt to the wound, finally breaking Craig enough to give up.

“Whatever you say man, this bar is fuckin’ lame anyway. Who wants to drink to Third Eye Blind.” Grumbling his insults as he slinks away, he takes one last look at you and Eddie before his final exit with a flip of his middle finger.

Eddie’s stare is hot on your face, while you bashfully avoid his gaze keeping your eyes lingering on the door. When you finally dare to meet his eyes the shit eating grin on his face makes you groan, the buzz of your drink pulling a giggle out of you. 

“Eddie, don’t —“

“Well, well, aren’t you just a little heartbreaker, huh?” His teasing only makes your cheeks grow hotter as you try to hide your face from his view.

“Don’t you need to go attend to all the customers you left?” Your words come out muffled from behind your hands as you slowly pull them down just enough to uncover the fake glare you were sending his way.

“I’ve got my favorite one right here.” Voice dropping low with a smirk, he was right, you didn’t stand a chance.

“I haven’t paid for a single thing, you refused my money if you remember.” Bringing your hands down to fully come out of hiding, he bites his bottom lip when he can take in your features again.

“It’s no good here, baby, I could actually get arrested if I take it and then how would I be able to take you out to get pancakes after my shift if I’m behind bars?” Bringing his hands together in mock shackles and a pout, the chain wrapped around his wrist catches your eyes for the first time.

“You’re takin’ me to get pancakes?” Flirting like a love sick teenager, you even start to kick your feet under the bar.

“It’s the least I can do since you’re my fill in bouncer for the rest of the night.” Smirking, he nods his head to the man at the opposite end of the bar flagging him down with a twenty dollar bill. His eyes sparkling with something new now that he had you.

“Me? A Bouncer? I’m not intimidating in the slightest!” Your cheeks hurt from how hard you smile at his retreating form, the game of ‘playing hard to get’ becoming a thing of the past now.

“Sorry, you owe me, heartbreaker.” He shrugs like it’s out of his control before flashing you the same lopsided grin leaving you a mess of nerves from getting to spend the night with him.

The hours till close go by faster than you anticipate with Eddie topping off your drink any time you ask, the buzz from the alcohol is just enough to handle the growing intensity of his flirting. Now that the only obstacle in the way of each other was time, he was relentless.

Enjoying the game of chicken the two of you had started unconsciously playing, you stop noticing the clock. Every six customers earns you five —sometimes ten minutes of his time and he makes sure to use every second of those breaks as an excuse to lean in close, whispering in your ear, holding your face close every time you talk. He was getting off on the way he could make you shift in your seat and hide your bottom lip between your teeth when he got close enough for his lips to brush against your ear. Your fingers find excuses to wrap around his wrist when he invades your space, playing with his chain, you keep him close making sure to tilt your head just enough for him to catch a glimpse down your neck into the low cut of your dress.

The small hand on the clock above the door hits the three and it’s not until his breaks start getting longer and your touches are able to get a little bolder that you notice the murmur of voices over the music disappears. The few stranglers left sipping their last drinks of the evening are paying the two of you no mind despite the way he’s tucking your hair out of his way to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his nose.

The realization that you’re finally about to be alone with him brings your nerves to a head and the need to check yourself over in the bathroom mirror becomes urgent. The flick of his tongue along your earlobe distracts you for a second as your head nudges against his when it tickles making a giggle slip past your lips.

“I gotta go to the bathroom, Eddie.” You inhale the scent of pine lingering in his shampoo, giving him one last nudge with your nose before hopping off the stool. He gives you his best puppy eyes as you get up to leave, pushing out his bottom lip when you tug your dress down.

“Please, I’ll be like three minutes.” You roll your eyes at him but the smile that lights up your face tells him you’re eating it up.

“I’ll be counting every second you're gone, baby.” Holding his hands over his heart for dramatic effect the man at the end of the bar snorts loudly ruining the moment. He earns an annoyed glare from the bartender, “Better hurry up and finish that shit old man, it’s closing time.” 

You hear him grunt in response to Eddie’s rude reminder before disappearing into the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. Stickers and writing with permanent marker cover every inch of the dark crimson walls. The doors of the black stalls barely hang from their hinges, dents from many reckless drunk nights at The Foxy Lounge punch random spots into the metal. The bottom of your sneakers stick to the floor with every step to the mirror where more stickers and black scribbles line the surface including a girl named Leigh’s phone number with the note ‘for a good time call’ attached at the end leaving just enough room to see your face.

The space buns on top of your head are messy from Eddie nuzzling his beard into your hair all night. You try to salvage what was left of them by tightening the knots a little more before deciding it's a lost cause. He was probably just going to mess them up more anyway. The thought of Eddie’s hands being free to touch you in every way you’ve wanted all night has you taking a deep breath while you hold your own eyes in the mirror.

“It���s happening, you’re gonna have sex with him. You’re gonna fuck the super hot bartender who flirts like it’s his second language tonight and you’re gonna be confident about it okay? You hear me?” Pointing to yourself in the mirror, the determination in your stare is enough for your tipsy pep talk to work its magic.

Taking one last look at yourself with a nod of your head you pull open the bathroom door ready to take on the rest of the night. Only to stop in your tracks when you notice the stool that was occupied is now empty and every inch of Eddie is also in full view from where he stands in front of the jukebox. Your eyes are insatiable taking in his tall frame like this for the first time all night. 

You notice the giant chain that hangs from his belt loop this time, and there’s even more rips in his jeans than before giving you a peek at the pale skin hidden underneath. His shoulder blades move under the thin fabric of his shirt when he clicks his choice on the machine. Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer spills out from the speakers of the bar as he turns on his heels, the smirk that plays on his lips dares you to catch the hint with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Very subtle.” Crossing your arms as if to act immune to his charms, you know he sees right through your facade but he plays along anyway raising his big hands up in the air in mock surrender.

“It’s just one of my favorite songs, I don’t know what kinda ideas you got going on in that pretty little head of yours.” He takes a few more steps towards you slowly closing the gap, daring to be closer to you than he had been all night without a wooden bar separating you.

“Interesting, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Sixpence fan.” Raising your eyebrow, you have to look up at him when he finally takes the last few steps to stand in front of you. 

“Why? Cause I’m such a tough guy?” His grin grows wider when he looks down at you catching the roll of your eyes while you uncross your arms opening your body up to him with a laugh. 

“I can’t stand you.” Your swat is flirtatious with your palm hitting his chest. He’s quick to catch it, using your hand as leverage to pull you closer, biting back his groan when a breathy gasp slips past your lips when he tucks you into chest. First your giggle and now this? He just knew you were going to sound so pretty falling apart for him.

“I think Craig would call that bluff sweetheart.” He gives you a minute to let his words sink in, throwing his head back with a loud laugh when you huff at him embarrassed. “I’m teasing, I’m teasing. He needed to be dumped, a girl like you deserves someone that's gonna show up when they’re supposed to.”

The sweetness of his words has you melt against him, the playful pull from before surrendering to his touch and you swear there’s hearts in your eyes from the way he looks down at you after saying something like that. 

“Thanks for tonight Eddie,” your voice is small when it comes out laced with adoration, and it’s his turn to get bashful making your favorite dimples come out again.

“No problem sweetheart, honestly it’s my fuckin’ lucky night.” Pulling your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss to the skin stretched over them before letting your hand drop, noting the disappointment on your face that you’re quick to cover up. 

“Wanna get some fresh air while I smoke before I close this place down?” 

——

Eddie somehow looks even better under the twinkling stars and pink fluorescent lights of The Foxy Lounge sign. The low hum of the electricity filling your ears as you lean against the brick of the building. His eyes are brighter out here, catching them with your own when he looks at you over the end of his cigarette.

He winks when you meet his pointed gaze, the flame of his lighter casting shadows that dance across the strong lines of his jaw, the orange glow highlighting the stubble that covers it. Batting your lashes at him, you push your hips off the wall playfully while he keeps his eyes on you through his entire first drag, only breaking contact for the split second he needs to blow the smoke he inhaled away from you. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” His words come out like a warning before he takes another hit.

“How am I looking at you Eddie?” Biting your lip to hide your smile, you make sure to say his name extra sweet just how you figured out he likes. He shakes his head with a low chuckle blowing more smoke into the clear night sky. 

Despite only taking two drags, he flicks the barely smoked cigarette to the side before closing the distance with a few steps leaving him crowding you against the building. Your chest brushes against his with every shallow breath. Getting lost in the darkening amber inside his eyes, the calloused tips of his fingers catch against the soft skin of your chin. The pad of his thumb pulling the velvet of your bottom lip from between your teeth.

“Like you want me to kiss you.”

Ducking his head down he nudges your nose with his, the heat of his breath fanning against your open mouth. His eyes go from yours back down to your glossed lips silently begging for your permission.

“I think it was you that was hinting at kissing me earlier.” Pushing up on your tiptoes, you smile against him when your lips just barely touch. 

“Oh? You think that’s what I was doing hmm?” Asking the question he already knows the answer to, his tongue licks against your top lip as your hands find the material of his shirt, fisting as much of it as you can before yanking him down to collect his lips with an eager mouth, giving up winning whatever game this was. 

You swallow his moan when your tongues meet in the middle battling for dominance, teeth scraping, you taste the few puffs of tobacco still lingering on his taste buds as his muscle massages against yours. Sliding his knee between your thighs, he smiles smug into the kiss when your hips search for friction against the denim.

He breaks away from your mouth long enough to start trailing wet kisses down your jaw, the rough hair on his chin rubbing your skin raw as he starts nipping and sucking bruises along your neck. Biting hard enough at your pulse point to have to soothe it with his tongue after the mewls he pulls from you are enough to drive him insane.

Your fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, giving his roots a pull while you turn your head, opening more of yourself to him. Taking your silent invitation he nips at the dip of your collar bone before lifting his head to press his forehead to yours. 

“I gotta close up baby, but then…”rubbing his hands up your curves with a low groan he squeezes at the plush of your hips before finishing his sentence, “I think I promised you pancakes.”

Nodding your head because words are stuck at the tip of your tongue, he grabs your cheeks with a strong grip, smushing your lips together before stealing one last kiss.

——-

Eddie doesn’t give you the attention you’ve grown accustomed to all night when he starts the process of actually cleaning the bar. Your body still buzzes like a live wire from the drinks and the kiss outside. He’d been counting his tips with his back to you for the last ten minutes and you were growing impatient for more of him. You needed it. 

Counting the last bill he finally turns around and your thighs press together when you get to see his face again. Shifting in your seat when his eyes barely meet yours, he makes his way to the other end of the bar. Pushing yourself up to lean forward with puckered lips, he ignores your advances passing by without so much as a glance in your direction. Huffing when you plop back in your seat, he flips the knob starting to wash his hands in the mini sink with his back to you again. Your foot taps against the metal of the stool as you watch him grab the scratched up red bucket hanging below and a fresh rag quickly replacing his hands with it to fill up.

You wonder if he can feel your stare when he adds the soap, taking his time while he spins the rag in the steaming water, he starts ringing it out. Arms flexing and suds spilling over his knuckles, you were gonna lose your mind if you didn’t get your hands on him soon. 

He makes big swipes as he starts working his way towards you, keeping his eyes so focused on his task you’d think you were invisible if it wasn’t for the smirk that was getting impossible for him to hide. It only grows bigger when he stops in front of you, adding a low hum to his charade purposely wiping around the outline of your hands that were splayed out on the counter ready to push yourself up again. 

“Eddie - c’mon!”  

You’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t for the laugh that falls easy from his chest when he finally looks at you. His face softens and his eyes darken when he catches your angry pout, your fingers are quick to find his free ones making him tsk at you but he doesn’t pull away.

“My hands are wet baby.” He knew you didn’t care and the teeth showing in his wide grin told you he didn’t either.

Giving into your persistence like it hasn’t been a fight to keep his hands to himself this whole time, he leans forward brushing his nose with yours before nudging it against your cheek so your lips just barely touch. When you go to close the space he pulls back just enough to tease, a small whine escaping you at his games.

“What’s got you so needy, huh?” His words are whispered as he presses with the slightest pressure before pulling back again. “I didn’t kiss you good enough outside, you need more?”

“Please.” Your cheeks burn when you hear how your voice sounds, but his grip on your fingers tighten and a low moan breaks through his front at how desperate you sound just for a kiss.

“Gotta give my girl what she needs.” Your brain gets stuck on the words ‘my girl’ taking you a minute to realize he was finally giving you what you want.

It’s slower than outside, he’s taking his time with you this time. Untangling his fingers from yours, his hand comes up to wrap around the side of your neck. The water feels good on your skin as the pad of his thumb starts rubbing soft lines under your jaw while his tongue swipes at your bottom lip looking for more. You don’t give into his advances on purpose, keeping your mouth closed to get him back for all his teasing you feel his smile grow against your own.

Expecting him to stop and surrender, he only doubles down. Catching your top lip with his bottom, he pulls away just enough for you to open your eyes. God, you wished you kept them closed. The brightness from outside had turned them into nothing but black leaving no trace of the specks of brown from before. The knowledge that he was just as affected by all of this as you sends you reeling. Toes curling inside your sneakers.

“Whining over here for me to give you what you want, and here I am baby, and you’re playing hard to get.” Nipping at your bottom lip he meets your heavy lidded gaze again, “Gonna let me give you what you want?”

He barely lets you finish nodding before he’s on you, the hunger from outside coming back as he leans over the bar to deepen the kiss like you’d been begging him for. Opening your mouth for him without hesitation when he asks for permission again your tongues meet lazily, exploring each other like you didn’t get a chance to before. Pushing up again eager to get more of him he pulls back leaving you breathless with spit slick lips.

Despite the way his chest heaves trying to catch his breath, he does his best to play it cool, smirking when you have no shame chasing for more.

“I gotta finish closing up.” He gives you one more chaste kiss before he starts wiping the rest of the counter down. 

Jutting out your bottom lip into a pout, he laughs, throwing out a ‘you’ll survive five minutes baby.’

You leave him alone doing your best not to distract him, despite how much your fingers itch to have him close again. Grabbing the money from the register and the receipts for the night he disappears back into what you could only assume was Rick’s office. When he pops back out he looks a little more relaxed.

“Just gotta wipe the bottles down and then I’m getting the prettiest girl the best pancakes in town.” Clapping his hands together with a rub of his palms, he grabs another rag.

You were starting to hate pancakes. Not that you didn’t want them, you just wanted him more.

“Hey Eddie?” Trying to hide your ulterior motives in the sweetness of your voice, his eyes meet yours almost instantly and they narrow just as quick.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Setting the rag down he leans forward with his palms on the bar he gives you his undivided attention. An intimidation tactic. Unable to help yourself, your eyes trace up the ink covering his arms.

“Teach me how to make that drink?” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you see something flash across his face, fingertips digging into the countertop after the question leaves your mouth.

“Wasting Love?” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it that now, would you?” Laying it on thick, a slow smile spreads across his face. He saw what you were doing and he was going to fall into your trap willingly.

“Why don’t you come back here then, we’ll make our own.” His voice comes out low, his pupils taking over all the brown, pretty white teeth baring themselves at you.

His gaze is predatory when he watches you jump from the stool, the exaggerated sway of your hips keeps his eyes trained on the curve of your waist as you make your way into his space for the first time all night. Leaning against the back counter, his legs are spread wide leaving little to the imagination on how worked up you had him. His eyebrows raise when he sees the automatic press of your thighs at the sight. It wasn’t fair, you were trying to seduce him, not the other way around. He wasn’t even trying.

As if on cue the jukebox that had been left to play all night clicks, Ginuwine’s Pony pouring out of the speakers as he licks his lips unashamed at the way he’s drinking all of you in like this.

“Gonna teach me how to make something sweet, Eddie?” Trailing a finger along the bar while you close the distance, you drag out the ‘e’ at the end of his name just enough to get him to groan.

His hands grab your waist squeezing just hard enough to feel his strength before using it to pull you flush against him. The material of your dress doing nothing to hide how hard he is pressed into your ass. His lips trace the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath tickling your neck as you push back into him searching for more. The stubble on his face rubs rough against the soft skin of your cheek as he punctuates each word with a roll of his hips.

“The sweetest, baby.” 

You bite back your moan when his nose trails up your neck, his lips just barely grazing the warmth of your flesh before they settle back against your ear. You hold onto the wood of the bar in front of you when he hums low, feeling it deep in your core. His calloused fingers start a path up the bare skin of your thigh hiking up your dress when they catch the hem.

“Tell me,” your eyes close when his nose is pressed to your temple as he speaks, “Do you like cherries, baby?” His tongue catches your earlobe sucking it into his mouth, grazing it between his teeth when he lets it back out.

Your knees almost buckle at how good everything feels, the slow rock of his hips never stopping as he plucks at the lace trim of your underwear. 

“Y- yeah, I love cherries,” you whimper when his palms lay flat on the outside of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin when he squeezes at the fat working his way back up.

“Of course you do, pretty.” His thumbs hook the sides of your underwear, “You’re just so sweet all the time, huh?” Despite the need for friction, you spread your legs for him wondering if he can hear the way your lips pull apart sticky, arousal coating the inside of your thighs.

He chuckles soft in your ear praising you with a ‘so sweet’ before giving them a tug, letting the red lace fall to the floor. Keeping his hands on your hips, he presses himself against you hard enough to have the heels of your sneakers pick up off the ground. A low ‘fuck’ slipping out from under his breath when you whine a little.

“Red lace? Was Kurt gonna get lucky or was this just a ploy to get me all along, sweetheart?” Your cheeks burn at his question, his low chuckle tickling your ear when he hears you huff out an annoyed breath. “‘Cause if that’s the case all you would’ve had to do is walk through that door on any given night.”

He grinds himself against you one more time, but you can really feel him this time and it makes your legs shake.

“Are we gonna make this drink or do you wanna keep talking about Craig?”  The shake of your voice doesn’t go unnoticed despite trying to be sharp with him but the grip on your waist still tightens at the mention of the other man’s name

“Sure we can, if that’s really what you wanna do.” His words taunt you but with one hand holding you against him the other flips a clean cocktail glass onto the bar top with ease, like he wasn’t rock hard digging into your back.

Reaching around, his hand trails up the front of your thigh sending goosebumps across your heated skin. A shiver runs down your spine when he dares to dip between your legs inching his way towards where you want him most.

“We better not mix liquors so why don’t you be a good girl and grab the whiskey for me.” His lips brush against your ear with every word, his hand never faltering on their path even when his fingertips meet your slick folds. Feather light, he traces along your slit, not daring to break the barrier yet. Brain hazy with want you don’t even comprehend what bottle you reach for, blindly grabbing for whatever was in front of you.

“That is tequila, sweetheart. Tsk, tsk, tsk are you even listening to what I’m saying? Or are you too…” Before he finishes his sentence he pushes his index finger past your entrance, your warm walls wrapping tight around his digit, “…distracted?”

Your head lulls back against his chest, your eyes closing when he pushes two knuckles deeper. Your needy whimper makes him kick up again making you grind your ass against him in response. Licking your lips, you try to collect yourself only chasing for more of his finger once. 

“N-no, I can do it.”  Determined to prove him wrong, you focus just long enough to grab the Jameson bottle, “What’s next?”

He hums in approval while his smile grows against your skin. Deciding to indulge in your stubborn game still, he curves his finger enough just to make you gasp his name.

“Are we keeping this simple, or do you want something a little more—” Adding a second finger, you stretch easily for him now, dripping down his hand, “Complicated?” 

You shudder, a moan slipping past your lips while your grip on the bottle tightens so much you're scared it’ll shatter. Fuck, you gotta keep it …

“S- simple - oh.” His thumb finds your clit applying just enough pressure to have your mouth fall open and your brows to knit together, and just as quick as he’s there, he’s gone. 

Pulling himself free, he tries his best to ignore the way your pussy tries to suck him back in, your body begging him for more. You whimper at the loss, your eyes opening to remind you where you are.

“I’m gonna need both hands to do this, baby.” His fingers shine with your slick when he wiggles them for show, stepping back just enough for you to see the grin on his face but not enough to get out of your personal space. 

Grabbing his wrist, his eyes go dark when he realizes what you’re about to do. Gaze turning half lidded when your mouth opens, huffing out a deep breath when your tongue flattens against the pads of the two fingers that were just buried inside of you. Wrapping your lips around them, your arousal is tangy sweet hitting your taste buds.

Hollowing your cheeks as you suck them clean, you watch the confidence drain from his face, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the sight. The blunt ends of his nails dig through the soft material of your dress and he starts rutting into you with a little more force when you slide your tongue between each knuckle.

“Jesus christ,” his voice is strangled, words coming out through gritted teeth when you let him go with a loud pop.

“Now you can use both hands,” you say innocently, like you didn’t just suck them clean. You let his fingers tug at your bottom lip before dropping his wrist.

He fists a handful of your dress, a low growl rumbling from his chest getting a taste of his own medicine. Licking his lips, his eyes narrow at you before his teeth start to show, mischievous in the low light.

“Well if we want this drink cold, we need to fill this shaker with ice.” Just like the glass, he flips it on the counter one hand never leaving your waist despite his claim. 

Pressing his lips to your ear again, he makes sure to let his breath linger a little before he talks, enjoying the goosebumps that appear from such a simple touch.

“Fill it up for me, baby?” Your thighs clench at the deep rasp in his voice, both of his hands finding a home spread out on your thighs.

Nodding your head you slide open the silver metal door of the ice chest below you, bending over more than you needed to to scoop it up into the shaker. He groans loud when you press into him like this, his fingers making quick work to flip the back of your dress up. 

“Look at you, so fucking messy for me and I’ve barely touched you.” Grabbing a handful of your ass, he ruts into you, the rough denim hitting your clit in a way that has you moaning his name.

He laughs quietly at your neediness flipping your dress back down when you straighten out. Chests heaving in time with the other, neither one of you was ready to back down. Not yet.

“Might need to unzip those pants.” Looking over your shoulder at him you fake a pout, “Feeling a little strained back there handsome.”

Smugness dripping from the smile on your face, he raises his eyebrows at you in a challenge. 

“Since you wanted something simple sweetheart, we just need two more things.” One hand snakes its way back between your legs, squeezing at the inside of your thigh before he lets you go for the first time since you set foot behind the bar.

Craning your neck so you could follow him, you find him bent down grabbing lemon juice from the mini fridge under the shorter back counter. Shutting the door with his foot when he stands up, he throws a wink your way when he grabs the simple syrup.

Setting the bottles in front of you he steals a quick kiss that leaves you wanting more before he grabs the small tub of cherries from the fridge he forgot his first go around.

“Okay, so you’re gonna grab the Jameson, and I want you to pour it out to the count of three for me then cut it off.” He returns to his place behind you, his large hand swallowing yours when it shadows your movements.

Your pour is shaky when he counts low in your ear, nuzzling his nose in your hair calling you a good girl after each successful addition to the simple concoction.

“Alright, now you’re gonna shake it as hard as you can angel.” His hands squeeze your hips for encouragement.

Doing as he says he pulls you against him even harder when your arms start to go wild. Your chest bounces with each movement making you giggle and you almost don’t hear the hitch in his breath at the sight. 

He helps you by putting the strainer over the rim of the glass when you’re ready to pour. Mumbling soft words of praise while he nibbles at your ear lobe. The drink is much lighter than the one you had all night, the dark orange turning lemon as the white foam fizzed on top.

“I think I could take your job.” You smirk reaching for the cherries to top it all off. 

“You think you could take my job?” He snorts incredulous, watching you unwrap the plastic wrap from the small tub dropping three cherries into the already very sweet cocktail.

“Absolutely.” Grinning while ignoring his stare you reach for another cherry, “No doubt in my mind.” You grab the fruit between your teeth, finally meeting his eyes as you pull the stem, relishing in the burst of sugar and grenadine that erupts against your tongue.

“Tough luck princess, unless you know how to tie that cherry stem in a knot with your teeth, no bar in this town is gonna touch you.” Grabbing his own cherry, he dangles it in front of your frowning mouth for you to bite. Obliging him with it bumps your bottom lip you tug gently, taking the fruit before chewing slowly while he sucks the stem once before it disappears in his mouth.

“I’m calling your bluff now. No one knows how to actually do that.” Daring him to prove you wrong he mutters a ‘watch me’ between his working teeth.

You don’t lose focus on the way his hand on your waist starts to wander, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the fat of your thigh while his tongue ties the stem like it’s easy. Jaw flexing with each twist of his tongue before he pushes it out to show you, a pleased look on his face when the small knot in the middle comes out perfectly placed. 

Swiping it off his tongue with the fingers that were inside you minutes ago, you wonder if he can still taste you when he sets it next to your drink satisfied by the way your jaw drops.

“How do you think I got this job? I’m more than just a cute face.” The touch of his hands grows bolder when they start working their way up your dress, a thickness in the air that wasn’t there before filling your lungs.

“That’s quite the skill set you have there Mr. Munson,” your giggle is breathless, your eyes going from his down to his lips as you try to play it off.  

“I can do more than that with my tongue sweetheart, if you wanna find out.” His nose nudges against yours, the smirk on his face making you sweat when his fingers trace up your wet folds again.

Surrendering instantly, you forget all about the drink the two of you made nodding without hesitation the desperation for him all night finally taking over.

“Yeah?” His voice breaks when his thick fingers push into your entrance again feeling just how worked up all his teasing had you.

“Please - Eddie,” the pad of his thumb finds your clit again making you beg, “Fuck.”

“Asking me so sweet, how could I say no to you?” Murmuring against your lips, he finally gives in and kisses you. Wet and sloppy he only does it long enough to take your breath away before dropping to his knees.

His big hands on your hips angle you to face forward, flipping your dress up over your ass again. The air of the bar is still hot against your folds, arousal dripping down your thighs, you’re fully exposed to him now. You hear him suck the skin of his teeth at the sight, a ringed hand coming down just hard enough on your right cheek to make it jiggle before both hands palm the fat.

“I can’t believe you were gonna let anybody else but me have this pussy. Should be a punishable offense.” Pulling your cheeks apart to expose more of you to his hungry eyes, he pushes at the small of your back signaling for you to bend over more for him.

He moans loud enough to make you jump when you listen to his command, even you can hear the sound of your lips pulling apart for him. 

“All this for me, baby, fuck, you spoil me.” He wastes no time burying his face between your folds, his talented tongue collecting your juices before finding your clit. The rough hair on his chin rubbing your sensitive skin raw as he shakes his head from side to side. 

Squeezing your ass to pull you closer to his face when you try to run away, he sucks your bundle of nerves harder when he gets you back to where he wants you, dipping his nose into your entrance every time.

He does the motions he would do when he ties the cherry stem into a knot against your clit, a strangled moan ripping from your throat when he does it again.

Your hands find purchase on the top of the bar, eyes closed tight while you see white behind your lids. Your nails dig into the wood when his tongue flattens, the lewd squelching of your arousal filling your ears when he pushes his face so deep between your legs you aren’t sure if he can even breathe. The moan that rumbles through his chest and vibrates to your core tells you he doesn’t care. Wrapping his lips tight around your clit he sucks even harder, not caring when your legs start to shake from overstimulation. 

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m gonna - fuck!” His name comes out long and drawn out when you fall apart on his tongue. Relentless, his teasing never stops, his hands holding you up while your body starts to shake. Humming low in satisfaction against your cunt.

“I n- need, I need…” willing your eyes to open, your vision’s blurry from how hard he made you cum. Pulling away with a loud smack of his lips, he palms your ass cheeks before craning his neck to try and get a good look at you.

“What do you need, baby?” He nips at the curve of your right cheek before pressing his face to it, dazed from getting what he’s wanted all night completely content.

“I just, I just need you to fuck me,” you don’t recognize the choke in your voice when you whine for him. Whine for more.

“Jesus christ.” His words tickle against your skin when he groans, kneading the soft flesh of your ass one more time before standing up. 

His hands are on your hips before you can fully register the change in position, spinning you around and lifting you up he sets you on top of the counter behind the bar. The one where drinks aren’t served and the one that’s low enough for Eddie to slot himself perfectly between your legs. 

Eyes blown black while his beard and nose ring shine with your slick, his lips part - swollen and pink from pulling your first orgasm out of you. Bangs clinging to his forehead, his hair is a wild mess on top of his head from your hands. The confident air about him is gone, replaced with nothing but the need to have you. Snapping out of your daze, you’re quick to find the metal of his belt buckle.

His forehead presses to yours, while he watches the way your dainty fingers work the leather out through the loop. The white tips of your nails catch his eye when you undo the button of his jeans and his cock twitches at the thought of them pumping him for all he’s worth.

He hisses when you push the denim down his hips, his hard dick springing out to smack against his shirt that you immediately wish wasn’t there. Precum leaks from the angry looking pink tip while your hands fist the hem of the worn cotton, silently begging him to get rid of it. The big vein that follows the curve of his length makes your mouth water as he obliges your pleas, ripping his shirt off and throwing it somewhere you’d have to find later. 

You’re able to really take all of him in like this, his chest is heaving covered with just as many tattoos as the rest of him, the silver chain you’d peeped earlier hanging right in the dip between his pecs. Your eyes follow the dark patch of hair that leads to his cock, long with the kind of girth that you know is going to be a stretch, a strangled whine bubbles out of you at the sight while your thighs spread begging for him.

“God, I want you so bad,” you whine wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him even closer giving into your animalistic instincts. 

“I know baby, me fuckin’ too.” He pumps his cock a few times groaning loud, squeezing hard at the base before pressing the head between your dripping lips. Mesmerized at how they wrap around his tip, his precum mixes messy with your arousal making lewd noises as he sweeps it through your folds.

Body shaking every time he hits your clit, you finally hook your ankles growing impatient when he teases your entrance.

“Fuck. Me.” You get out through gritted teeth, the lopsided grin he’d been giving you all night turns cocky when he pushes the tip in, your head lulls back at the invasion, the silk of your walls desperate to start sucking him deeper.

“Not so sweet now are you, huh?” Pushing himself all the way in, his rough thatch of pubic hair hits your clit when he bottoms out. His confidence falters for a second when a deep moan rips through his chest at the feeling. “So fuckin’ tight baby - shit.”

Your nails dig half crescent moons into his inked skin while you adjust to his size, his nose skimming against your cheek while he whispers how good you take him when your walls start to milk him, your body letting him know it was okay to finally move.

“Feel so good, Eddie, fuck - so good.” Your hips start a slow rock, feeling every ridge and curve of him. Your dress sits rucked up at your waist giving a perfect view of the way you take him, and it’s even better than what his imagination had come up with all night. 

He lets you use him for a minute, big hands resting on your waist — content with just watching the way you coat his cock with everything you have left over for him from the first time he made you cum. 

“That feels good, huh?” Cooing at the way your brows knit together and your mouth falls open, he picks up the pace, taking control. 

Pulling you all the way to the edge, his strokes get deeper, the tip of him hitting the spot that you know Craig would have never found. He pulls his cock out half way, relishing how your velvet walls try to keep him in place, he holds his composure before pushing back in, filling you to the brim. Addicted to the way it makes you gasp his name and arch your back, your body asks him for more when you’re too cock drunk to get the words out.

The straps of your dress start slipping down your shoulders with every thrust, your breasts bouncing just begging for his attention. His cock twitches inside you, it's almost too much. Greedy for more despite fighting the urge to cum, he tugs the front of your dress down to reveal a matching bra to the panties on the floor. Hips stuttering for a moment he growls at the reminder of your date before tugging the lace down, your nipple pebbling instantly for him before he takes it in the heat of his mouth. 

Pushing yourself closer, needing more, your hands find their way to bury themselves in his curls, holding him close. You needed him close. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bud and it makes you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Your hips finding a way to match his strokes, reigniting the flames deep in your gut. God, he was gonna make you cum again.

He grunts around your breast, spit dripping down your soft skin from his ministrations while the snap of his hips start to get harsher and you know he’s nearing his end. He lets your nipple go with a loud pop before his hand comes up to grip your chin, his lips finding yours in a frantic mess of teeth and battling tongues.

The wood creaks underneath you from the force of his thrusts and the bounce of your ass to meet them. Mouths tangled, you swallow each other's ragged breaths, both of you desperately searching for your end when his fingers find your clit. Rubbing circles with just enough pressure to have your body start to shake against his, he nips at your bottom lip grunting when he feels the way it makes you flutter around him.

“Come on baby, give me another one. Be my sweet girl again and tell me how good I make you cum.” His fingers slip against your clit, fingers wet from how worked up he had you but his words are enough to have your world stop for a second.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Ed-“ Going blind behind your closed eyes he coaxes your second orgasm out of you with a silent scream falling onto his turned up lips. Proud of his work, his hips start picking up their pace inching closer to his own release he’d been fighting off since going down on you. 

“God, - fuck I’m close - where d-do you-?” Sweat drips down his forehead while he struggles to find his words, his impending orgasm making him short circuit.

“Inside, shit - please, I need it, Eddie.” Still needy and barely coming down, your legs around his waist tighten their hold, locking him in place while you use the last of your strength to help get him there. 

“Whatever you’re doing - holy shit , Jesus - I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” His hips press hard against yours when his cock twitches, spilling warm inside your greedy walls that don’t stop asking him for more. His face hides in your neck, the heat of his breath fanning against your sweat kissed skin while his body shakes with his release.

The roll of your hips never stops, just slowing enough to make him shiver after he starts softening, spent inside of you. You know there’s a mess starting to drip but neither one of you has the energy to move just yet. His lips start leaving small kisses along your neck, nose nudging against the space behind your ear and you can feel his smile against your cheek before he finally lifts his head up. The brown in his eyes return to a warm auburn like before when they meet yours.

“Rick is gonna fucking kill me if he ever finds out what happened on this counter tonight.” Rolling your eyes, you snort at his joke before shoving against his chest.

“You’re telling me you don’t fuck all your cute customers behind the bar, Eddie?” Batting your lashes at him, he squeezes your hips with a smirk. 

“Only, the really, really cute ones. I take them to get pancakes at IHOP around the corner, too.” Something shifts in his eyes and you think for a second you might see self doubt in them for the first time all night, “That is, if they still want to.”

“Well lucky for you, I only let bartender’s from The Foxy Lounge take me out.” Nudging your nose against his, your smile touches his lips.

“Sweetheart, you know I’m the only bartender here right?” Grinning like someone who just won the lottery, he quickly gets rid of the space between you, kissing you like it too.

---

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[reasonsforhope]

Countries That Generate 100% Renewable Energy Electricity

Pictured: Hydropower is the most widely used source of renewable energy-generated electricity. This dam is located near Polson, Montana.

Is 100% Renewable Resource-Generated Electricity Possible?

"With concerns growing regarding burning fossil fuels and their connection to global warming, a great debate is occurring regarding the feasibility of producing electricity entirely from non-carbon emitting green renewable energy sources such as geothermal, hydroelectric, wind, and solar. Skeptics and naysayers claim that achieving such a goal is impractical, would destroy the economy, and is in the realm of pie-in-the-sky thinking.

But is it actually impractical and unattainable? The answer is clearly "no" since there are already several countries that generate 100% of the electricity they use from renewable sources of energy. There are also many other countries that obtain over 90% of the electricity they use from renewable energy sources. Despite the negative rhetoric by some, there’s nothing impractical about using renewable energy to generate electricity on a grand scale.

The Countries Leading the Way to a 100% Renewable Energy Electricity Future

The following is a list of countries that are leading the world into the new frontier of economies that run their electrical grids either entirely or nearly entirely on renewable energy per a 2018 report by the International Renewable Energy Association (IREA) and the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA) statistics. This list and the percentages are subject to change over time, but it provides a good snapshot of just how practical renewable energy currently is for electricity generation.

Iceland obtains 100% of the electricity it needs from renewable energy sources. Iceland is somewhat unique since volcanic activity on the island provides a significant geothermal energy source that is utilized to provide approximately one-quarter of the country’s electricity. The remaining three quarters are provided by hydro-power.

Paraguay obtains 100% of the electricity it uses from renewable sources. Huge hydropower dams provide all of Paraguay's electricity needs, as well as supply neighboring Argentina and Brazil with electricity.

Costa Rica is another country leading the way towards 100% renewable-produced electricity. During 2018, Costa Rica met all of its electricity needs using renewable energy sources such as hydro-power, geothermal, biomass, wind, and solar for 300 days in a row.

Ethiopia, Kenya, Namibia, Norway, Tajikistan, and Uruguay are countries currently generating greater than 90% of the electricity they use from renewable energy sources. Some of these countries are working towards running their electric networks entirely from renewable energy.

Some things stand out from the list of countries leading the way in electricity generated from renewable energy.

They are relatively small countries.

They have abundant renewable natural resources, particularly abundant water resources available to generate hydro-power.

The list includes both wealthy developed and poor developing countries.

The fact that both developed wealthy countries and poor developing countries are leaders in renewable energy-produced electricity indicates that the cost of constructing renewable energy resources is not a limiting factor. In fact, developing countries can justify the capital cost of building renewable energy sources of electricity due to the fact that the operating costs are relatively low and predictable (not subject to commodity price swings), and renewable energy allows a country to be self-sufficient in meeting its electricity needs.

Large Developed Countries Can Also Produce 100% Of Their Electricity From Renewable Energy

Critics and naysayers might say that while these achievements by small countries are impressive, implementing renewable energy on a large scale is impractical for larger developed countries. But is it really impractical?

Cost and technological barriers are not what they once were for renewable energy. In fact, costs for renewable energy continue to decline year after year, and renewable energy technologies continue to develop and become more efficient. Many countries have not even come close to tapping their renewable energy potential or even tried some of the technologies available, such as electricity generated by wave or tidal power. Additionally, the argument that renewable energy is only useful when it is being generated is becoming irrelevant since large utility-scale batteries are now available that have the capability to store electricity generated by renewable energy and allow it to be used when needed.

Clearly, the answer is yes. Large developed countries can produce 100% of the electricity they need from renewable sources. It is only a matter of the will and investment at this point to make the changeover from fossil fuel-generated electricity to renewable energy electricity generation. The technical barriers are not as great as naysayers claim, as proven by smaller countries that have already reached the 100% threshold. Moving towards 100% renewable energy sources of electricity will become easier over time as wind, solar, and other renewables become more efficient and large utility-scale battery storage technologies become capable of storing larger quantities of energy for use when needed.

Pictured: Researchers lay out a plan for nearly 140 countries that could be powered 100 percent by renewable energy by 2050. spectrum.ieee.org

The City of Los Angeles Leads the Way in the U.S. With Inexpensive Solar

Various forms of renewable energy have experienced significant cost reductions to a point at which they are competitive and, in some cases, cheaper than traditional electrical energy sources such as coal, oil, and natural gas. This cost reduction trend will accelerate the change over to renewable sources of electricity. For example, the City of Los Angeles signed a deal in July 2019 for a large solar electricity array that will provide 7% of the city's electricity by 2025 at only two cents per kilowatt-hour (kWh). This is far cheaper than fossil fuel-derived electricity.

In addition to being cost-competitive, the practicality and reliability of renewable energy are poised to make major advances as large utility-scale battery technologies are rolled out that can be used to capture renewable energy when it is created, so the electricity can be used at a later time when needed. The Los Angeles solar array project includes utility-scale battery backup at a cost of 1.3 cents per kWh, so the electricity generated by the sun will be available even when the sun is not shining.

Los Angeles has a goal of achieving 100% renewable electricity generation by 2050. This solar contract is a big step toward achieving their goal."

-via TurboFuture, February 21, 2023

[blueberryarchive]

𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

୨ৎpairing: cowboy!jm x reader x preacher!jk

୨ৎword count: 5k

୨ৎgenre: smut, horror, angst

୨ৎtw: dead dove do not eat, mentions of death and gruesome details (human and animal), blood, mentions of arms and physical violence, cursing, smut (blood drinking and playing, period sex, rope play, degrading, dub-con, groping, penetration)

An Ewe and the Captive Bolt (a serie)

Today was his birthday, and for the first time in 28 years, the sky looked like a sheet full of spots. He felt ever since he saw Sirius and Canopus in the sky as two little white suns the night before, that this year was going to be different.

What Park didn't know was that what would be different was the pain he felt on the left side of his arm and his chest. The hot, thick blood soaked his shoulder and eye until it covered his eyelashes. The battered hat clutched in both dusty hands as he entered Carmen's diner, a child's shame on his tight lips.

The poor girl behind the counter dropped the key lime pie from her hands, creating even more noise in the place (which Jimin didn't appreciate being in such a state).

"Christ." She murmured, still static.

"Be a doll and bring me a glass of water, would ya'?" Jimin crawled to one of the seats, grunting as he felt his muscles burn.

The girl approached with a small towel and a terrified look.

"Never seen blood before?"

"No, sir." Her brown eyes were like two walnuts bouncing between Jimin's face and arms. She was adorable, her face round and her hair so curly that she reminded him of his sheep. If she hadn't been the sheriff's daughter, he said to himself every time he saw her.

"Are you hurt, sir? I can call my daddy and-"

"No need for that, sweetheart." He raised his hand. The last thing he needed was to have Montrell in his affairs. "It ain't my blood, it's my horse's"

Apparently, that seemed to affect the young woman more. Jimin was a little offended by her reaction.

"Why don't you bring me a piece of that delicious key lime pie you had in hand and two coffees."

There were more questions in her curved eyebrows, but she just nodded and walked away. Park took off his shirt, leaving a tank top underneath it, with the handkerchief that he kept in his jeans, he began to wet his hands and his face.

His fingers were still shaking from the adrenaline. The shrill sound of the car's tires driving away, the heated laughter cloistered behind the smoked windows, the last sharp sigh of his horse before Jimin ended his suffering. He had to find the bastards who ran over his horse. FH-6077, he read the plate in the distance before crossing the curve, and his brain couldn't stop humming the six digits like a prayer.

The sudden hand on his shoulder calmed the waters, the undoubtable smell of myrrh and tobacco from his companion.

"Happy birthday, buddy." His voice was gentle. If Jungkook ever went above a couple of those decibels, Jimin assumed he was going to die. Even seeing Park's bloody hat on the table and Park's bloodstained boots, he didn't flinch to ask.

Perhaps it was his ecclesiastical nature that gave him the confidence that at one time or another, others would fill the silence with their confessions. But Jimin could see in the father's noble eyes the desperation for an explanation.

"Sure." That was all he said. The girl approached the table with the pie and the coffee.

"Goodnight, Father John." She smiled widely.

"Night, Billie. How's your dad?"

"He really liked your mass today. I did too, I really liked the reading." Jimin noticed how the corners of Billie's lips twitched, contorting herself to try to look prettier for Father John. So obvious and adorable, but of course, Jeon would give nothing more than a shrug and the most predictable questions.

The difference is that Jungkook could fuck the sheriff's daughter. What father didn't want his daughter to be in the sacred hands of Father John?

Father Jeon (or John due to the Americanization of Jungkook's family) was tall, wide like a log, and robust like an unhorned bull. Attractive in every sense, but bland, shy until it hurts.

"'M glad, tell him I will visit Missus Davis next week."

"Do you have a smoke? I'm dying in here."

They both looked at Jimin who was just smiling with his mouth smeared with whipped cream.

"You can't smoke here, sir."

Jimin winked at her, grabbing the white stick that Jungkook handed him as he also sat down to end the unbearable flirting.

"I know, pumpkin. It'll be a quick one, I promise."

The girl didn't say anything else, and she walked away. Disappointment in her walnut eyes.

"I'll marry her in two months." Said Jungkook.

Jimin frowned. Jungkook curled his fingers, pointing for his friend to come closer and light the tip of the tobacco.

"Marry her? You can barely tolerate the poor girl."

"I love her." The father stated as he nodded slowly while he drank his coffee. "She's a good girl, I think she likes me, too."

"Are ya sure?" Jimin joked.

"Where's that bad hoss you've been riding since last month?"

Jimin's blood warmed again, the drags on his cigarette even longer.

"Fuckin' punks ran over 'im and broke his ribs. Had to do it." He pointed to the gun under his hat. The bloody clothes reminded him how clumsy he sure looked trying to pamper a horse that was already three steps away.

FH-6077.

"I'll find them tomorrow."

"I'll help you."

"What are you gonna do?"

They both looked at each other, the watery, electric current between them. Ideas undulated and braided between their cruel smiles.

"Haven't changed a bit, church boy." Smoke weaved into Jimin's blonde hair, his devilish smile vaporizing memories of his teenage pranks.

Jungkook drank the last of his coffee, his face falling back into the same bitter sadness that every father held as if he carried the weight of all the souls and sins of Rivermouth on his back. The silence was long afterward, the black night extended to the mountains, to the sky, to Park's own reflection in the glass. The round face with pronounced lips and rude, detailed eyes, sweet when they feel like it. The spitting image of his mother.

"I have some hippies coming to the ranch tomorrow."

Jungkook nodded, the pressure in the handle increasing, the clack of the cup being clenched by his teeth in a sip. Jimin knew he shouldn't have mentioned the hippies, but it was that ecclesiastical power. He knew that Jungkook hated the smell of pot, the long hair, and the colorful t-shirts, which reminded him of his father, previous father John.

God knows what Jungkook had to witness, the carbonic stench that emanated from that charred skeleton. The tongue pressed between two pieces of blackish board that used to be teeth. The fetid fat that ripped and curdled in the organs. There was not a day in which the poor man did not think about that before going to sleep and found himself face to face with the featureless face of his father, with the incinerated bowls pointed at the eyes of his son. Sitting in the chair under the cross that has sat on that wall since Jungkook's birth.

And Jungkook cried. He would close his eyes and every night, he would grab the skull and make it crunch under his thick hands. The body did not defend itself, it let its boy vent as if he were a sacred entity and knew that at the same time, the next day and every other day, he would appear again in that chair, and Jungkook would never be able to exhaust his anger against him.

"I have to go." It was the only thing he said leaving a ten dollar bill in the table. Park understood. "Go fetch a new hat from my house tomorrow, it's about time you threw that shit in the river."

"Hey."

Jungkook turned around. Jimin stopped smiling.

"Take it home in the morning, I'll make you breakfast before the rodeo."

Jeon looked at the floor with uneasy eyes.

"We'll see."

As he left the diner, the fresh wind conquered the father's soul. Nostalgia washed away his stony face and for the first time in years, he wanted to be a child again. Disappear with Jimin and sleep in the old hayfields of the abandoned Hillside.

He put on his black hat and started walking down the dark street, both hands in his pockets.

Today the smell of boiling fat was stronger than ever, the ghost of his father floated in the swirls of Rivermouth dust and, with it, the remains of the children who were later taken from that same cabin.

The white lace curtains let in the yellowish light of the first rays. The unmade bed, the smell of pine in the sheets.

In one corner of the bed, Park was dressing for the day, the muscles in his shoulder had swollen with the hours and makeshift cloths covered the open, bloody sores. Every so often, he hissed and swore under his breath.

The coffee began to gurgle in the kitchen as he finished putting on his boots, it was barely 6:30, but he already had the eggs frying and the beans hot in the pot. It seemed strange to him that his companion was not already sitting next to the window, Bible open and the first cigarette of the morning in his hand.

He turned off the stove just in time and poured himself a cup. Today he felt more domestic than ever, he had spent the night fixing every detail in the ranch, from the dust on his late mother's china to the rifles displayed in the hallway. To be frank, he spent the entire night cleaning every corner, maybe detailing every object in every room so that at the end of the weekend nothing would be missing, or the crash made him remember how little he's done in 28 damn years.

A porcelain jewelry box his mother had placed in one of the rooms was covered in a thin layer of gray dust; it was his mother's favorite piece. He hadn't opened it since the last time he stole a couple of pearls to buy his first rifle, the red stained his face with shame, and the only thing he could do as an apology was turn the house over with his own handkerchief and clean even the windows. He was surprised that the smell of lye and soap hadn't killed him.

Hearing one of his sheep bleating, he opened the window and decided to lower his chivalry a bit and smoke his first cigarette before Jungkook arrived. In the distance, he could see one of his ewes, fat and terribly woolly, walking slowly towards the barn. She was pregnant and Jimin knew that there were maybe 24 hours left, her skin was bulging, and her bleating was painful and whiny, she couldn't take it anymore.

The curtain caressed Jimin's face with the wind that was beginning to warm up, he took a drag of the cigarette and turned his body towards the kitchen. He felt a strange itch in his chest, the kind that bothers him when he senses a spirit floating near him. The greenish branches and the smell of sausages were mixed up with the subtle gallop of a skinny horse and the unexpected smell of myrrh.

He walked to the front door and opened it to find Jeon's promised hat. He sighed as he saw that not only was it one of his black deathly-looking hats, but he had also planted him at breakfast, sure to go see the grandmother of his very unexpected but predictable fiancée.

Long story short, Jimin had to eat four cowboys' breakfast and the whole pot of coffee, and the hat he would wear to the rodeo today didn't match his outfit at all. Dozing was the only thing he could do after loosening the buckle on his belt and putting the hat on his face.

The leather furniture was sinking under his body, the soft song of the river in the distance, and the birds pecking at his roof took him back to his childhood. Sleeping wherever he wanted without any purpose. He dreamed of the gallops of his first horse: Champ, a Tennesee Walking that had belonged to his grandfather, black as coal, glistening in the sun of his student days and running like a devil in a hurry. He dreamed that he was in public showing the animal to auction it.

"How do you encourage a horse to move forward, Sage?" A woman in the audience shouted.

"I don't know, kick his ass or something." Heavenly laughter coaxed him out of his lethargy.

His body sat on the furniture before he knew it, sweat covering his back, veins marked on the left side of his face. He ran with the unconscious weight of his body to the window, pushing the curtain aside with his finger until he saw the circular corral where his star horse, Arrow, was located, with a stranger on his back.

His fingers reached for the rifle lying on the rocking chair.

The blonde girl staggered on top of the animal while her thin fingers held his hair tightly. The horse's sleepy eyes moved from side to side, snorting as he searched for direction.

"Come on, horsie!" The girl snapped her teeth and laughed as the horse curved to one side. "Are you seeing, Hunter? It's moving."

Hunter was smiling foolishly, lying on the grass, his thin, wavy hair fluttering around his ears like a delicate flower. The dark glasses covered his wounded deer's eyes.

"You're such a cowgirl, my love." His voice was sarcastic.

And with a shot into the air, silence muted nature. He silenced the current, the clucking of the chickens that fluttered in the distance. Hunter, Sage, and Blondie turned to the cowboy who walked slowly across the grass towards them. A whistle from the stranger caused Arrow to raise his front paws until Blondie fell with a screech to the hard ground.

"Kitty!"

"Woah, cowboy." Jimin's silky voice approached, placing the buttplate of his rifle on his shoulder, aiming directly between Hunter's eyebrows. "Move slowly, ya wouldn't want to scare an alarmed man any further, now would ya?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

Blondie or Kitty or whatever her name was, rolled her red eyes.

"What the hell are you doing on my ranch?"

"Let's go, Hunter. I'm not going to talk to cornman." Sage was the tallest of them all, her shorts squeezed her thighs until they were overflowing, and her hair was long like a beach princess.

"Watch your fucking language around me, missy." Gritted Jimin removing the safety on the rifle.

"Sage, for once do you want to shut the fuck up."

Hunter raised his hands, sweat beginning to gather on his wrinkled forehead. His eyes shone as he heard the heels slowly approaching behind Jimin.

"Love." He exhaled.

"Is this part of southern charm, Mr. Park?" Coquettish, the dying accent of someone who once lived in these parts, daring, too much for her own good. But still, he lowered the gun, spitting on the ground.

When he turned around it was as if a pink burst of glitter and vanilla had slapped him from the stupor of sleep. The glasses were square and large, they covered almost her entire face, that was the first thing Jimin saw.

"Ma'am, are these your friends?"

"We are your visitors, cornman." Jimin ignored the Californian's irritating nasal whine as the sweet girl in front of him approached little by little with a smile. He felt the itch again, the one that senses a spirit floating nearby, this spirit was the nebulous memory of your face.

"Could you speak again, ma'am?"

"Sorry?" You laughed, and it was like birds were chirping in your throat. "You're Ari's son, right? I really liked the jams your grandmother used to make."

And oh, it couldn't be more obvious. It couldn't be more evident, not even because God had exploded your name in the sky. It was the stunning makeup and hair wax, it was the sequined heels and Patsy Cline songs reverberating from the old speakers. It was your name in the newspaper almost every week.

It was your sailor costume, the jam falling from your humiliated face, it was Jimin's hand caressing the bulge in his jeans that same night on top of the hay, imagining how you ate the strawberry jam that his mother made.

Now you called yourself Love, the name was as obvious as you were. Of course, your hippie name is Love.

"Miss Peaches '57." His voice was soft and trembling. Your eyes opened in surprise.

"Gods, I didn't even remember that title." You put your hand on your mouth, dressed as a Hollywood girl but your loving manners were indelible.

"Excuse me, where are my manners? Jimin Park." He raised his hand for you to place in yours, light and trusting. A chaste kiss to the back of your hand without stopping to see your eyes behind the orange glasses.

"You can call me Love."

"A sight to sore eyes, Love."

"Always." You responded. Jimin swallowed hard, trying to hide that nostalgic smile, 'pure in every way. With that same smile, he invited the four to go through their rooms, the tension subsiding fluidly with each laugh that came from your blessed lips.

It was as if you said one thing and the sun came a little closer, deorbiting out to your echoes, warming the room and Jimin's cheeks.

"Can you help me look for my suitcases?" You touched the shoulder of the cowboy who agreed and guided you to the front door. Like the good boy his mother raised, he opened the door for you, and outside stood a Packard Caribbean: long, yellow, and sleek as a sunflower.

"Nice ride."

"Thank you, it's from Hunter's dad. He gave it to him for his birthday. Isn't it a beauty?"

"Beautiful." His nose scrunched watching your stomach bulge down your cute little top, hard nipples contouring the pink fabric. You still were just good enough to eat.

Examining the car little by little, a detail began to emerge in his memory. Among them, glowing in the heat of that morning were the six digits from the night before: FH-6077.

When it came to religion Jimin didn't have many opinions.

As a kid his mother went to church every Sunday and took him. He saw the statues of Jesus suffering with indifferent eyes, he made his first communion only because they promised to give him a sip of wine with the host, he listened to the stories of death and plagues as if they were cartoons. 

God was a very complicated being, the more he thought about him, the heavier his body became.

To his surprise, God was nothing more than a sham, a wall between you and him. The host, that time Jungkook's father offered him, tasted like nothing and the wine went down his young throat tasteless.

"Body of Christ." You said, the music playing crisply on the record player Hunter had brought. The guitars repeated the same riff over and over, he hated it.

Jimin stuck his tongue out where you placed a small square of magazine paper no bigger than a fingernail. Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, his knees throbbing as he knelt in front of you, your thumb brushing against his lips before sealing them.

"Amen," he sighed.

The host that you offered to his mortal body was as tasteless as the first, but only Jimin knew the euphoria that, like a hurricane's wind, announced the sweet path that awaited the cowboy.

Jimin was not a man who smoked more than five cigarettes a day, seven if it was a bad day. But your siren song in his ear convinced him to drown his morals in your dark waters, your hands took both sides of his tanned face and you threw him without warning to your sanctuary, towards the steepest rocks, to your glorious eyes. And damn, Park could drink the water from your pupils and die of poisoning.

"I missed you so much, I didn't know it until the moment I saw you." His lips said before thinking about it, narrow pupils lying on the grass next to you. You just laughed, it was the only thing you did and he just admired it.

At one point around noon, Jimin took the steering wheel of the Packard. Hunter, Sage, and Kitty were talking about a record, making strange sounds and asking the opinion of Jimin who was driving down the dusty road, making the engine roar so that you would scream next to him.

"Slow down!" You asked. He went faster, he didn't care.

The purring of the car made Jimin's body pulse, his mouth was dry, his arm no longer hurt, and his lips prayed the license plate of the car, over and over again.

I'm going to find it, he told himself. And when I find him I'm going to make them suffer, as the tips of the horse's bones pierced its dark fur, neighing over his own stupid words trying to calm the wounded animal.

Faster, find it.

Like oil, the green branches of summer became watery and greasy in his vision, and the dust was stalactites that bathed the car in yellow.

"Good luck, cowboy." Kitty approached Jimin, somehow he had made it to the rodeo. The horns announced his name on all four corners and people shouted his last name like the idol he was.

Sage and Kitty kissed his cheeks before he climbed on top of Arrow, the weight of his body creating echoes every time he moved.

There was no one in that audience who saw Jimin on his horse who was not surprised by the agility with which the rope rose above his head and created fluid circles to catch the rough calf that writhed with the knot in its thick neck.

Jungkook saw from a distance how the cowboy's smile was so bright, how he rejoiced at the applause and the roses that were thrown at him. His movements were vehement, fiery, and impulsive like a devil without fear of death.

The hat Jungkook had given him had a small, withered pink carnation on it. He stood up as quickly as he could at the end of the show, but before he could talk to him he only saw Arrow galloping thunderously in the distance, one girl was wearing the gifted hat, she grabbed Jimin's waist and with the other, she gave whiskey to the cowboy. The copper thread falls to his chest and settles on his strap.

"The sight of him today was incredible, I had never seen 'im like that." Billie smiled behind Jungkook, her cheeks red, eyes covered with a fine lust that she probably didn't even recognize.

The firmament rose high above his eyes, there was no star that Jimin didn't feel the overwhelming sound of fire burning in his ears. His body was sweating on the grass, and the smell of nicotine was strong after smoking two cigarettes to settle his reverberating body. The high had passed and his body was a used towel.

He doesn't remember much of what happened, but the remnants of the hallucinogen's burn made him understand that he had the damn time of his life. A laugh left his lips, embarrassed by how easy it was to convince him to do that stupid thing. What Jungkook told him was true: you haven't changed at all, cowboy.

"How's my favorite rodeo king?" The angel landed above his head, you were wearing his hat and a flowered dress.

"Roughened up, I guess." Just like after a good fuck.

"Don't get hooked or you'll end up like Hunter." You combed your hair as you walked around him. "He can't last a day without it or else he starts hitting Kitty."

"Why don't you report it?" Jimin stood following your steps. After looking around him for a few seconds, he realized that he was in the rodeo arena, darkness bathed the stadium. The blue moon showed your silhouette walking over the horseshoe tracks.

"Because Kitty doesn't want to, they are going to get married in a few months. He promised to stop doing drugs when they did. It wouldn't be good for a kid."

There was a lightness in the promises the Californians made to others, they nodded seriously, but you could see the consequences in their evasive gaze.

Jimin nodded.

"Are you always so quiet?"

He nodded again, and they both laughed.

"'M better when I'm not ten feet deep in an LSD hangover, I can assure that."

"Yes, but..." Your silhouette approached his body, and you carried the energy of ten bulls on you. Your immortal look, you haven't changed anything. "I asked if you're always this quiet."

Jimin inhaled as he understood your question.

"When I'm in the stadium I'm more vocal." He again evaded the answer you were looking for so much. His chest beat boldly like the time he saw you covered in strawberries and sugar.

"You were a star this afternoon, your eyes were shining."

"Always."

You raised your eyebrow and scoffed. "Sure thing, sir."

Blood surged to Park's neck, his eyelids drooping, his pride tainting his flirtation. Enough of the games.

"Run." He murmured, saliva pooling in his throat.

You frowned with your typical smile.

"What?"

"I asked you to run." His body suddenly lunged and you became alarmed, raising your hands. "As fast and as far from this stadium as you can."

His pupils didn't move, his soft smile was confident. Your skin grew cold with each step, at first slow and suspicious, the darkness of the large arena was intimidating because it felt like you were not moving forward.

You heard how an object created hollow, sharp sounds in the air. It was his lasso.

"No." You muttered, running even faster.

And swoosh, you fell to the ground. The rope squeezed your neck, leaving your body in mid-air, your tongue came out and your eyes bulged from the sudden lack of air; the hat fell away from you. Your body was no longer yours, your stupid fingers tried to loosen the knot, but it was too late.

The boots approached, collecting the rope that was left over around his arm. The silhouette became part of your blurred vision.

"Stand up."

"I. Can't." Your lips emulated as you writhed like a worm in the dust.

"Lemme' help ya'." Jimin snatched the rope for you to stand up, your knees moved up to him where his fingers loosened the knot a little. "Breathe, little girl. We don't want an accident."

Saliva came out of your mouth in streams and fell to the floor. Jimin grabbed your chin and wiped it.

"Don't make a mess now."

"I'm sorry, sir." And now you sounded as helpless and stupid as Hunter did this morning. It was adorable.

You were afraid to look up, your eyes trained on the hat a few meters away from both of you.

"Tell me, pumpkin. How can two ugly sons of bitches like your parents have such a beautiful girl?" He laughed, dragging the rope to where his hat was, you walked behind him with careless steps. With a couple of blows, he blew the dust off his hat and looked at you again, searching for an answer you didn't even know how to articulate or if you should.

His hand wrapped the rope around his fingers until he had you as close as possible, the smell of tobacco hammered your temples, and your eyelids wrinkled to try to wake up. 

Great was the surprise when you felt a pair of dry lips resting on yours, his tongue daringly passed over your lips so that you would open, his moans softening your fear.

His saliva was bitter and lovely, his tongue running flat across the outside of your mouth until it reached your chin and the tip of your nose.

"Let's see, open your mouth, sugar. Don't be shy."

You obeyed as the knot tightened around your neck, moaning as his lips sucked on the tip of your tongue and bit your bottom lip.

"God have mercy." He sighed, squeezing your chin with his hand. "How can you taste so damn sweet."

You moaned as you felt his teeth nibble gently at your neck, his fingers piling the fabric of your dress around his fingers.

“Mm,” you squealed, walking away even when it didn’t suit you. "Can't."

"It's a good thing I didn't ask." Jimin brought you closer, caressing your neck again.

"I'm on my days." Shame sealing your thoughts, in your eyes the hope that just the thought of seeing the blood would disgust him.

Jimin raised his eyebrows and slowly kissed you again, this time with the softness of an apology.

"A cowboy doesn't mind a little dirt." He murmured, touching the soaked towel that covered your underwear, two fingers pushed aside and the burning of your pussy collided with his cold fingers drawing a moan from your hurt throat.

"A good cowboy loves to get dirty." He smiled, removing the two soaked fingers from the red viscosity to put it in his mouth with a frown on his eyebrows. "Mm." He grunted, swallowing slowly.

You were speechless, stupefied. Who was this demon?

"Have you ever ridden a bull before?" His blood-tainted lips said, the idea shocking your senses.

You denied it, and God knows that was the stupidest answer you could give.

The animal began to make a mechanical noise beneath both of them, the leather surface pressed your thighs against the mechanical bull that began to move slowly.

Jimin's bestial eyes did not take off from you, the last of the bottle of whiskey went down his throat in long gulps and pushed the glass into the distance causing a roar.

Your legs were above his defined thighs, the bleeding wound between your legs dirtying his jeans but the cowboy didn't seem to mind. The dress already forgotten outside the stadium playing area.

"We'll go slowly because it's your first time on top." His consideration was so minimal, considering the situation. But you were a woman whose details annihilated your logic.

To the front and sides and then a gentle turn, this is how the animal began. Jimin moved his center with the animal, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your pussy.

One of his hands approached the dripping hole and with four fingers collected the blood until it painted his hand.

“Ah,” he requested, sticking his tongue out and you followed suit. His fingers got smeared on his tongue and cheeks until they reached his neck. With his tongue he passed over his lips, like wine he drank you, like sweet he possessed you and rejoiced.

His tongue entered your space again, the strange and bitter taste of your own blood while with his fingers he removed the zipper of his jeans until he showed that he was not wearing underwear underneath him, his tall and throbbing cock moved under his fist.

"Climb on, doll. You're wet enough for me." He laughed taking your body to sit on top of him. You hugged him as tight as you could as the mechanical animal began to move faster.

"We're going to fall." You whimpered. "Hurts".

"Shh, shh. Let me medicate you, it'll stop hurtin' when I dick you properly." One spank and his fingers squeezed the skin of your ass tightly. "You just have to move with me."

To the front, to the sides, two turns. You just had to keep your legs elevated a little, Jimin's cock sliding smoothly in and out with each movement.

"Now you're getting it. Fuck." Jimin hissed, squeezing your waist with his forearm. "You're quite the cowgirl, Love."

You moaned, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes absorbed every curve, from your breasts to your red-painted thighs. You were an angel, a myth that devours men. Your songs of pleasure echoing on the aluzinc walls.

The animal began to attack, abrupt and deeper.

"Does it hurt?" You asked between moans, watching the fabrics covering Jimin's arm begin to dye again. Jimin denied, cuntdrunk.

You removed the knot of cloth from the wound on Jimin's arm, running your thin fingers over the bleeding muscle. Park hissed, and the walls of your pussy tightened.

More, you wanted more.

Your lips sucked on the sores until you felt the metallic taste in your throat, Jimin pressed your body against yours. One turn, two forwards, three up. Your poor body trembled with the desire for the game to end but your pussy still wanted your walls to expand until Jimin's cock was molded inside you forever.

"If I knew you were such a slut." Park grabbed your hair to pull you away from his arm.

"If I knew cowboys fucked so well." The bloody smile of both of you was devilishly erotic.

The bull stopped suddenly, you looked at the man standing on the other side of you, rifle in hand, hot tears burning his cheeks.

"Jungkook? Jeon!" It was the last thing you heard before you fell face first onto the inflated floor, blood flowing warm and your eyelids falling softly.

[respectthepetty]

Rose's Day of Asks - the sequel

Hello dear Petty. So I'm sure this is gonna sound like a silly question but it did occur to me so I'm asking it anyway even if I make a fool of myself. Are there are colour combos that just wouldn't work for a ql couple? Or would take an extra amount of effort to make a relationship work, so to speak?

Rose💛

I LOVE YOUR ASKS! They always make my brain spin in the best ways! But, as usual, instead of answering your question about color combos that don't work, I'm going to answer about the most difficult color to be in a relationship with because there is only one:

Brown Boys/Brown Beauties

Everything that makes a Brown Boy/Brown Beauty great is the same exact stuff that makes them so fucking awful.

Brown (and dark oranges) represent the earth, so Earth signs in astrology (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) and Brown Boys/Brown Beauties share a lot of qualities with the earth, like being grounded and dependable, but it also means they are stubborn and predictable.

They are hard-workers, and it can become their priority over everything else. They are comforting, but only when they deem the issue isn't trivial because they are practical and conservative in ways that make sense to them.

So that's why even in his heartbreak, Tae in The Trainee didn't waste his meal reservation and invited Pah and Pie in Mee's place. He is practical. Money can't go to waste.

And that's why he ignored his girlfriend because work was more important.

We saw the same issue with Shin Da On in Light On Me as he gave everything to student council but put his love life on the back burner.

They are always so concerned with working and being practical, that they are often difficult to love because there is no room for spontaneity or whimsy, and they just don't see the point in all the theatrics like Ter in Wandee Goodday.

And because they are stubborn, they think what they do is right, no matter how wrong it might be like Phupha in The Promise!

So they go really well with Blue Boys since they are just a more elite and self-sacrificing version of them like Achi and Karan in the Thai version of Cherry Magic.

But we often see them paired with someone more playful and childish like a Purple Person like Kongkwan and Fon in Secret Crush on You.

Or a Pink Person.

Or even someone who is sky/sun-coded to counteract their earth-coding.

They are loyal, smart, and hard-working, which is why they are good partners.

But frustrating as hell because they abide by some ridiculous code based on self-imposed reasons that ONLY MAKES SENSE TO THEM!

And it's just not the boys who do this. The Brown Beauties are exactly the same level of stubborn and hard-working, but we don't see them as often in QLs.

But we see them in straight romances.

And they are usually paired with a Black Brooder.

(In any version)

So it takes an extra effort to love them because they aren't great at first impressions and can come across as a stick-in-the-mud, but once won over, there is nobody who will work harder to maintain a relationship.

[hellofanidea]

7 or 145 for the three word prompts for crankbucky?

7) "Try to eat", CrankBucky, tw for post-Stalag recovery including disordered eating and mental health issues

"Try to eat."

It comes out more like an order than Bucky intends, and Crank gives him the usual dry look he gets in response to that tone now they're not in uniform. Not full time at least; Crank an honorably discharged civilian, and Bucky on medical leave for the foreseeable future, to recover weight and muscle and sanity.

"I'm good," Crank insists, and cradles his cup of coffee like somebody's coming to steal it. He no longer takes it black, at least, gave into Bucky's cajoling to add cream and sugar for some imagined benefit.

He's not good. Last night was the roughest either of them have been for a while, which is saying something. Crank had ended up sleeping on the porch after waking up clawing at Bucky's weight on top of him.

Sleeping. Hah. As if either of them slept any more. Bucky couldn't close his eyes if he didn't know exactly where Crank was, if he wasn't directly in eye-line when he woke. Crank could sleep anywhere but woke at the slightest sound, disoriented and trapped in memories of cramped concrete rooms and barbed wire, gasping for air and the sight of the sky.

"You didn't eat dinner yesterday," Bucky reminds him.

They had gone to the diner in town, an increasingly safe bet to get food into both of them, especially since the waitress always slid them extras and a slice of whatever pie was on offer.

Since you're a friend of Charlie's, the older woman had said the first time and then, when Crank had gone to the restroom, it's nice to know he has people looking out for him after all that nastiness.

Halfway through what Bucky thought was a perfectly good chicken parm Crank had gone pale, put down his cutlery, and pushed his plate over to Bucky's side of the table. At first Bucky had ribbed him for being full from just a few bites, but then Crank was vigorously shaking his head, hands white knuckle on the table, mouth a thin, nauseated line.

Bucky had finished both of their plates to ward off the guilty fear that came from wasting food, then hustled Crank out of the door. He wasn't sick, but looked it the whole way back to the house. Any attempt to draw him into conversation failed, and Bucky filled the empty air with predictions on the next baseball season. They had turned in for bed almost as soon as they got back, Crank still not sharing what had turned his stomach (or, Bucky thought privately, his mind).

Then the disturbed night's rest, and now the kitchen, Bucky sliding a plate of toast across the table.

As if he's been asked to do the impossible, Crank sighs and picks up a slice of bread. He bites off a corner, chews, and swallows, keeping eye contact with Bucky the whole time.

"Happy?" He asks.

The familiar sharpness in his voice makes Bucky grin - there's his Charlie, rising from whatever place he sinks into when it all gets too much. There's the hidden bite that made Bucky look twice and then want those teeth in him.

"Ecstatic."

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko Chapter 161 Thoughts

I guess we're in the endgame now.

Since last chapter I've been worried that Hikaru's remorse after watching Ai's DVD was all an act but thankfully that's not the case. He was crushed after learning that Ai loved him and so the twins still delivered a revenge worse than death

But regarding Hikaru's motives, what of his words in ch 154?

Does he or does he not understand that Ai was an ordinary girl? Trying to ensure that Ai remains unparalleled is clearly forcing a selfish fantasy on her

I can extrapolate that the guilt stemming from her death created an all consuming need to preserve her memory and a desperation to do anything he could for her, so he decided to elevate Ai of B Komachi while ignoring what Ai Hoshino would have wanted

I just don't see how a supposedly smart guy would think that the best thing he could do for the love of his life was to kill her precious daughter

Hikaru was accused of manipulating Nino but this has Nino written all over it. Maybe she hypnotized him

Hikaru is a conundrum and speculating is getting me nowhere

Now on to the main event. Aqua is trying to give his dad a run for his money with poorly thought out plans

Why have a strategy meeting about how to protect Ruby with all the smart, capable people in your life when you can stab yourself?

Miyako is going to kill him twice for this

But Aqua reaching this point hits hard. Because despite throwing his life away, he's finally thinking about the future. He has hopes and dreams. He wants to call Miyako his mom. LOOK AT THIS PANEL. I'm sobbing. God, he better call Ai "mom" too

Aqua isn't trying to murder Hikaru out of guilt and revenge but rather for Ruby's future. And uhhh... ok, I have mixed feelings about this reframing of his suicidal tendencies

But it is growth and an Aqua who wants to live is better than one who doesn't, even if the end result is the same

Aqua stabbing himself in the same place as his mom with the same look on his face and the same sweat drops while creating a lie stemming from love is too much

I am no longer asking for a spinoff manga where nothing bad ever happens. I am begging on bended knee

Kudos to Mephisto for foreshadowing this

A certain group of shippers want to say that Ruby is the most important person to Aqua because he's sacrificing himself for her and I just want to point out that while of course Ruby is his treasured sister, Aqua thought of Miyako, Kana, Akane, Mem, and Taiki in this chapter. Aqua's love is not finite. We're not dividing up a pie here. No girl has "won" his love over another, okay? There are different kinds of love

Now if only Aqua could truly recognize just how loved he is

Will Aqua die? I've always said that no main character besides possibly Kamiki would die because while Ai's death was a senseless tragedy, she died with a smile on her face. She died knowing she loved her children and having achieved her lifelong dream to love

I never felt Oshi no Ko was a tragedy but rather that it has dark, tragic elements. But I've stopped trying to predict things

Next week: I can't even muster up my usual cheesy jokes. Just please live, Aqua. I don't care if Crow Girl swoops out of the sky riding a dragon called Deus Ex Machina to pluck him out of the sea or Hikaru turns out to be a war medic who can stitch him up, he just can't die.

[livviewritess]

☔it's not so bad. ☔

Summary: you wrote down he lyrics to your favourite song before the world ended, and Daryl happens to stumble across it, memorising it for your next encounter.

Era: Hershel's Farm.

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Daryl hadn't taken a great liking to Hershel's Farm. Although, he took a liking for one of his girls.

Y/n Greene.

She was sweet. Quiet, reserved. Much like Beth, but more.. lively. She loved pretty bows, books and found peace in singing and music. Before the end of the world, y/n made a little scrapbook with all of her favourite songs, like she predicted that the world was gonna shit itself into a coma.

Daryl was wondering around the Greenes shared farm, and stumbled across Y/n's room in search for a safe spot. The pink, laminated name tag on the door obviously pointed out that it was hers.

He peered through the cracked open door, pushing it open with his foot to get a better view. It was a nice room. Hanging vines from the back wall, a frilly, beige canopy over her single bed that seemed to match everything. The books on the bookshelf varied from autobiographies about the animal kingdom to books about medical processing. The desk was neat, with a single messy book and pen, and stickers dotted around the sides of the chair.

He picked up the book, reading the neat cursive writing engraved on the book. 'Property of Y/N Greene,' with a little bow as a page holder wedged in-between the middle of the journal.

He opened it to that page, scanning over the words. He was confused, because the words didn't really sound like ones that Y/N would write herself, more like somebody else had written them. Then it clicked.

It was a lyric book, listing 6-7 songs, but this one was marked, with a star. He assumed it was her favourite song, judging by the doodle in the corner of the doggy flap.

He read it again, and finally understood the song. 'Thank You' by 'Dido.' he hadn't really listened to it much before the apocalypse, but it played on the radio in his motorbike shop every night at 7, so he had at least memorized the beat. he snuck the book into his back pocket, just praying and hoping to the gods above, you wouldn't notice it was missing because if the lack of sleep. He steps out of your room, closing the door to the way it was left, picked up his crossbow, and continued his search.

Later on that day, he'd spend most og his night memorising the words, enough so he could write them down himself. He'd find time to get the journal back to your desk without you even knowing he had taken it in the first place.

-----------------------🎀------------------------

It was a sunny day, and y/n was busy picking the non poisonous berries to cook a pie for the group that had arrived not long ago.

You where scanning the forest, looking for a good bush, singing your favourite song.

"My teas gone cold, I'm wondering why, I got out of bed at all." You plucked the berries in beat to the pauses between the lyrics.

"the morning rain clouds up my window, and I can't see at all,"

"but even if I could, it'd all be gray, put your picture on my wall.." a gruff voice spoke. Daryl. You looked back, and he was voicing the lyrics too. You smiled, carrying on.

"it reminds me, that it's not so bad.." you sang. Daryl spoke up once again, your voices making an unforgettable melody. You both looked out at the river and the prison, surrounded by flowers, the big blue sky clear.

"It's not so bad."

Authors note: thank you so much for the 30+ notes on the last post! It's my first time writing/publishing on here. I do suggestions, minor smut but not smut smut. Bye now!

[transmurderbug]

🦚 Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🦚

On an actual Wednesday this time.

Thank you for tagging me Kat @mybrainismelted, Nosho @creepkinginc, Evie @energievie, Ice @spookygingerr, Jess @jrooc and

Pie @gallapiech 🥰

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name: Sky. Sometimes.

where in the world is carmen sandiego? (or you): Carmen is in Antarctica. She's apparently a penguin. And I'm under a pine tree.

ok, so this week we are going to snoop into your google search. type in each phrase and tell us what the first suggestion is that google gives you!

What is the best way to… avoid getting spyware on a machine? The "machine" part really drives this home.

Where can I… watch Hazbin Hotel? Are you asking me? Which version? Now I'll be humming all night, thanks.

How old is… Hungary? No need to google this one, it's pretty easy to remember, if you wanna look at the founding of the state. My memory is not what it used to be, but this one is burnt into my brain, I'm pretty sure. It's about to be 1024 years old. Why am I answering these questions though? 🤨 I do love history, to be fair.

How long does it take… to learn Hungarian? What does Google take me for? I want to see the algorithms behind these predictions. A long time, I'm pretty sure.

How many… days between dates? What dates?? Someone help me out, I'm getting confused.

Who set the record for… the fastest time to reach one billion views on YouTube? What is happening.

When did… the Queen die? Which one.

What does it feel like to… get shot. I've been told a scraped wound is worse, that's all I know. Again, why am I answering these?

Can you… run it? Run what...?

When you… say nothing at all. This is a Ronan Keating song. Who I only heard of when he was a guest artist at a symphonic concert I went to. Now you all know him too.

Why do… men have nipples? What kind of a question is this? Why does any mammal have nipples! Biology, dear Google.

Is there a way… to save Karlach.? Ehm. Spoiler alert?

How old do you have to be… to go to college? However old you are when you finish high school. Don't give up on your dreams!

Where do the… Simpsons live? Why would I want to know this?

What is the best time to… post on TikTok? Google wants both Nosho and me to become influencers, this is just another sign.

And to finish us off… What comes up when you type in Shameless? szereplők. I love the language switch. I do however know who the characters are, thank you.

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Well, this was a wild ride. Never in my life have I googled or even thought about googling these things. I either know the answer or I don't even think about the subject. Good job, Google predictions! Job failed successfully! This was pretty fun though. (Just to soften the blow, the Karlach question probably comes from previous BG3 searches. The rest? What even.)

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Tagging, because I'm on time! Yay! Voluntary, as always, if you want to skip, here, have these blueberries: 🫐

@ian-galagher, @transmickey @stocious @suzy-queued @blue-disco-lights @deathclassic @spacerockwriting, @ms-moonlight-inn, @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos, @krysmiss @look-i-love-u @sickness-health-all-that-shit, @heymrspatel @michellemisfit @sweetbee78 @grumble-fish @metalheadmickey @rayrayor @crossmydna @thisdivorce @callivich @gardenerian @lupeloto @francesrose3

@palepinkgoat @heymacy @lee-ow @roryonic @thepupperino

@doshiart and anyone else I'm probably forgetting!

[choking-on-dandelions]

Good morning, dearest friends! I'm delighted to say we're back from up north and it was a BLAST!!!

So first of all, whoo. what a drive. From the heart of the city to the softspoken winds of the water it was erm, give or take about 5-6 hour car trip. Ya girl got pockets of car sickness but I managed not to throw up so yay!

The four of us traveled through Traverse City and omg THE CROWDS BRO I COULDN'T. We did weave through the people to catch the air show, that was so cool! All you heard was the planes ripping through the sound barrier as you watch them do their tricks and spins and barrel rolls through that bright blue sky. They looked so close that you could reach out and touch them! So many cool tricks! The people were a little less than stellar, only because I get panicky in big gatherings, but the cherry pie was worth it. Soo worth it.

Okay, now, off to the Sleeping Bear Dunes! We arrive in fair time and pull up to the BIGGEST piles of sand I've ever seen with my own two eyes! I get nervous, a little dizzy just looking at this beastly climb, and immediately predict this is going to be the funnest nightmare ever. (I was right btw!) We all take a whiz then start climbing, each of us donning our breeziest most death-proof clothing we packed, and right away I resort to scaling the FIRST dune on my hands and feet, growling and howling like a monster and chasing after my boyfriend while other tourist watched and laughed. It was all fun and games until about the 11th pole marker on our never-ending hike. How long did it take, you may ask, to get through these sand hills? I will tell you, dear friend:

It took us, in grand total, a whopping 6.5 hours to get from the car, down to the beach, back to the car, all without the relief of adequate shade from any trees, and running dangerously low on water after we saw for ourselves that there were no facilities on the shore. No bathroom, no water fountains, just sand and lake and lots of cool rocks. We rationed the water we had for about the last 3 miles of our hike, only sipping enough to wet our mouths. When I tell you we got burned bad. My back is just now starting to peel. Turns out, after all was said and done, we had mistakenly taken the longest and steepest path there was coming and going. But we did it! And we didn't even need to call the rescue team (good thing too, hello $2,000 rescue bill, no thanks)! But watching some of these other people hike our way WITHOUT ANY WATER OR ANYTHING, I was like '???' So we went out of our way coming back to warn others that they might want to turn back and prepare for the worst. They were grateful to say the least lol.

From there we carried on towards Cadillac and meandered around the country roads until we found a cozy little hole-in-the-wall bar and grill and stopped off for dinner. The food there was excellent! My friends Cassie and Annette got a giant ceaser salad and mac n cheese with a side of fried cheese curds, my boyfriend David got a burger with fries and a side of mac n cheese, and I nibbled on a plate of veggies with a few fries on the side. I got something super light because I suspected I'd doze off in the car right after eating; sure enough, I was right lol.

From there we drove about an hour to our hotel room and packed it in for the night. Super nice little place, we lucked out and got one of the best rooms with lakeside view and a backroom door leading straight to the heated pool room. Everyone else stayed up for a bit, I was knocked out lol. We slept a few hours, got up the next morning and showered and whatnot, then took off for the local beaches for some serious rock and shell hunting. We found some neat stuff: David found some cool Petoskey stones and me and Cassie and Annette were chasing shells around the shore. We found a bunch of big snail shells and a few clamshells, I was hoping to dig up some gemstones somewhere like how I did out in North Carolina, but sadly no such luck this time. But that's okay. We beach hopped for a few hours, had a few seltzers in the sun, then began our journey home, saw a haunted-ass barn and belted out some car karaoke for a while.

Y'all, it. Was. The. BEST!!! It was the getaway we all needed and some amazing bonding time, even though we all nearly died out on the dunes lol totally worth it! We're already planning another vacation for next year, we wanna go gem hunting up in the mountains. Gonna be bomb!

I'm so glad to be home though. It's good to be back!

[invisiblegarters]

Not-So-Micro BL Reviews

This is mostly me doing catch up on all the things that I have been watching/was watching and then abandoned when I found Midnight Museum and fell like a ton of bricks (this is still something that confuses me but what can you do, really?) It will be long - I missed or ignored a LOT for a while.

Catch Up Dramas:

All the Liquors - This one never did anything revolutionary, but I have to admit that I liked the awkwardness of Chef. I really liked BFF cutie though. He was seriously the highlight of the entire show for me. Cute, if mostly predictable and not really plot heavy. Very KBL kiss. 7.5/10

Our Dating Sim - This was just a little gem of a series. The chemistry was on point and the conflicts made sense from what we were given of the characters. For how short it was, the emotional arc was satisfying. It's a solid little drama, and I quite enjoyed it. Good kisses, too, and not just for a KBL. 8/10

A Shoulder to Cry On - I just don't think that this one was for me, and that's okay. Part of me feels like if I were younger it would have landed better - it's dealing with some pretty serious topics and yet something about it feels a little too OTT for me, like they're kids playacting at adult emotions rather than it being genuine. IDK. I wanted to like it more than I did. This is one of the ones where the time skip actually worked in its favor though. 6/10

The New Employee (I know, don't look at me) - you know, I don't know why I randomly stopped watching this. It's adorable, and it actually does manage to convey the business drama pretty well on top of the cute, which I didn't expect from such a short drama. They also made me really dislike Manager Park, so kudos to them for that. I do like that Jong Chan genuinely believes in Seung Hyun's ability, and that he encourages him in that capacity. Overall this show was just cute, okay? It was. 8/10.

Bed Friend - I had such high hopes for this one. High apple pie in the sky hopes, even. I love me a FWB that gets serious (even if King was clearly pining for more from like, day 1 I don't even care. I've been wanting that fix since Between Us (another one where at least one of the FWB was clearly ready for more almost immediately, but hey what can you do). And these two are very, very good at selling that they want each other so kudos for that (and they clearly still want each other after the feelings and do not turn into blushing maidens who apparently haven't heard of kissing before, Team)). But around the time the gross boss Krit decided to invite himself over for family dinner with worst mother and SA stepdaddy and worst mother was like "oh yes he's perfect for you, son" I tuned out and didn't bother tuning back in until recently. I feel like there's only so much misery you can pile on one character before I either stop caring or start finding it unintentionally hilarious. I have to keep reminding myself that I am a Westerner so I don't understand the family dynamics in these things, that's all. Honestly Uea's inability to cut his awful mother out of his life is just not something that I can resonate with. It does amuse me though how often parents in these dramas are either amazing or awful, with not a lot of in between, normal sort of hey, sometimes parents do dumb things too because they are fallible and human. I guess that doesn't make for good drama. King and Uea are very cute, though, and I do really like them when they get to just chill and be boyfriends with each other, although I have to admit the end got a little too saccharine for me. I swear I can be so picky, sigh. The show might not have fulfilled all my hopes, but once it got off the misery train it was fine. 8/10

Moonlight Chicken - I loved this drama. And the funny thing is that it was low on my radar - literally the only reason I was planning on watching at first was due to First and Khao. That was it. The plot wasn't even really my thing, I figured I'd just be waiting for those two to show up and that would be that. But nope, I loved it. This felt like just the kind of grown up drama I've been aching for, one that was ultimately less BL and more, well, life, with all of its complications and messes. It just so happened that the main characters were gay. More of this, please, Thailand. I promise you that there is an audience for it. I liked how messy it was, and in such a believable way. From Wen and Alan's extremely slow breakup to Jim's trauma becoming a sort of shield for him against opening up to people to Heart and Li Ming's wholehearted jump into a first relationship, the characters felt real and grounded and i loved it. No one was perfect (well, except Gaipa who is honestly a sweetheart too good for this world - I loved his huge crush on Jim even though I knew it wasn't gonna go anywhere, he was so sweet and unassuming about it, best unrequited love ever). Jim especially won my heart, because the way his walls worked was so relatable to me. I think that some people don't quite get how easy it is to shut yourself off, and how once you do it it is so much easier to just keep letting past trauma keep you from moving forward, not necessarily in ways that hinder your entire life, just parts of it. Jim's utter reluctance to let Wen in and his worry about Li Ming made so much sense to me. He'd been burned and burned hard, it's only natural that he'd want to protect his beloved nephew from the same pain, even though he went about it in the worst way possible most of the time. :D But that's not how it works for the young, and that's a good thing. Yeah, Li Ming might crash and burn, he and Heart might not be forever, but that's okay. I have heard people complaining that Earth is way too young to play Jim, but I honestly thought he suited the role, actually. It might be my favorite role of his yet. Final Verdict: 9.5/10. This was almost my perfect drama and if I could have more of this I would be delighted.

New (to me) Dramas

A Tale of a Thousand Stars - watched because of Our Skyy2. I wanted to be looking forward to more than just The Eclipse and Never Let Me Go, haha. It was fine. I really liked Tian, even when he was being a spoiled shit. There's something about Mix, I think, that makes him extremely watchable. I do not really feel that way about Earth and I was mostly annoyed by Phupha. *shrug* I wanted him to actually talk to Tian rather than making decisions for him - sure Tian was impulsive but so much of his problem was with his parents running his life, he didn't need that in a lover, too. Once Phupha pulled his head out of his ass it was better, but my goodness that took a while, didn't it? Also what is it with this pairing and these weird "does he love me or my sister/the woman who's heart I have" plots? Glad Moonlight Chicken moved away from that kind of plotline, even if I do actually really like Cupid's Last Wish (more than this one, actually - I get the sense that is unusual but I don't care, I love it). Overall though this wasn't bad, even if I felt like it dragged a bit in places. Am genuinely sad that they put Khaotung in a Earh/Mix vehicle and didn't have him gently pining over either of them. He did it so well in Moonlight Chicken, after all. Final Verdict: 8/10

Star and Sky - Star In My Mind & Sky in Your Heart - these were fine. I felt like there was a lot of drama over very little, but they're decent little slice of life kind of dramas. Easily consumed, easily forgotten. 6/10 for both.

Rewatches (because why the hell not right)

The Eclipse - I just love this drama. *shrug* It's so incredibly rewatchable. Plus, you know. I love Akk, he's exactly my kind of character. I honestly can't wait for the Our Skyy2 episodes but they look a little nuts. Honestly though I don't even care so long as we get some cute - I think that there were enough tears during the show proper. Yes both First and Khao cry well but still.

Cupid's Last Wish - You know, the first time I watched this I think that I said I was pleasantly surprised because I expected it to be a lot less obvious that Korn was so gone on Win that no one else even entered his big, dumb head. I was worried that it would be more of a "oh, I fell in love with you as a girl but it's still you" thing, and it...was very much not. I thought they also did a real good job walking the line between showing Win and showing Lin, and I have to give a lot of credit to Jan for her portrayal of Win as Lin. Pitch perfect, really. I say again, there's just something about Mix that is likeable - I've enjoyed him in ever single drama I've seen him in thus far, although Earth as Moonlight Chicken's Jim has my whole heart. He really shone in that role. My one quibble with this is how everyone just forgives the mom for being awful. I don't know, I guess I'm just a grudge holder. Anyway I originally rated this at a 7.5, but due to sheer rewatchability and how much fun I actually do find it, I'm moving it up to an 8.5/10. It's fun, I like it a lot, I will probably watch it again at some point.

Looking Forward To

I'm honestly kind of out of the loop with this! I don't really know what is coming up, so my list is very short:

Only Friends

Dangerous Romance

Both of them seem messy, messy, and i am ready for it. I also can't wait for the Utsukushii Kare movie but I'm going to have to, so.

I'm also excited for whatever comes up for the renewed drama shower slot for MBS. I wasn't a fan of all of them last year (I loved one of them beyond all reason, liked two, was meh on two and DNF one), but I love that I can look forward to at least one drama coming out of Japan for a while.

Whew! That wasn't so bad, was it?

[cosmic-codex]

Chapter 10:

Fate and Fortune

It had been days since the monkey king had set off. When he started the voyage he didn't expect this much boredom. His days were filled food, blue skies, blue ocean and steering the raft. Being alone on a raft was taking its toll.

He almost regretted his journey. Almost. Despite all the obstacles, he vowed he'd face them all, no matter how deadly or boring. Desperate he started looking towards the sky for any sign of being close. Besides if you could tell the directions with the sun, maybe clouds tell how far land was, right?

Finding nothing but pineapple, monkey, turtle, heart and peach shaped clouds,  monkey king went for a peach only to find a bird perched on one of them, pecking it continuously to procure it's food.

Not happy with his guest he exclaimed, "Hey, stop, stop it. That's my food! Get your own!" and started swatting it away, only to notice more coming for their supper "Now there's more of you?! What, are you going invite the whole family now?!"

"Where are you even coming from?!"

The monkey king paused. "Where are you coming from?" he murmured.

As far as he knew, birds didn't come to a raft in the middle of an ocean, even when migrating. Which implied that they came from solid land.

Following a bird, who seemed to have had it's full, the monkey king steered the raft  in hopes seeing more than just the big blue sea and he did. As soon as the raft touched land he quickly tied it nearby and cheered. He never thought he'd be this happy to feel something as mundane as sand, yet here he was.

"Thank you very very much! I'd hug you but I can't. I gotta go but you can keep the food as my gratitude. I'll be taking a bag though. Bye!" the monkey king ran off as the birds continued pecking ignoring him.

The monkey king soon arrived at the human village. Realising he'd need clothes to fit in, he quickly acquired them, stolen from an unfortunate soul, and began wandering around, in hopes of finding someone who could teach immortality or at least a few clues.

Not finding much he moved on to the next village and the next. The more villages he crossed the more he learnt about humans and their societies. He learnt how to walk, talk and even how to read like them, among other things.

He also learnt of what most humans desired, which in most cases was always fame and money. Unlike his monkeys, who relaxed and enjoyed their lives behind the water curtain cave, humans were often focused on building bigger houses and gaining more money, something they used to barter goods.

A man worked all day, not even enjoying the breeze, and came home completely wiped out, not even gazing at the night sky, all for gaining more and more items which wouldn't even matter in the end. Just imagining his monkeys living like that, having all life drained out of them like that, sent shivers down his spine.

As he made to yet another village eating some leftover peach pie, given to him by a nice old lady he helped earlier, he saw a bunch of people gathered near a poster advertising the arrival of some seer in town, known for its very accurate depictions of the past, present and future.

Monkey king though predicted it to be a scam, having encountered many along his travels and once almost even being made into one. Though with his curiosity piqued, he went to the location mentioned in the poster only to find a long line waiting for their own futures to be revealed.

Waiting for a long time the monkey king finally entered the tent, expecting it to be fake though still holding out a tiny bit of hope for it to be real and give some help in his quest of immortality.

And so he entered he found the dark tent full of candles and smoke, coming from the many lit incenses around the tent, making him cough. At the back of the tent he saw table filled a glass orb, some cards and other things he didn't recognise.

There were two chairs near the table, one he presumed for him and another at the opposite side of the table, where a cloaked figure sat. Fake or not, he was intrigued.

As he sat in his seat the seer spoke "Come child, enter my domain as we unfurl your past, meet your present and look into the future." though they paused when they looked at the monkey properly, "My, it is quite rare for monkeys to come for divination. Now I'm curious, what's a creature like you doing here, dressed like a human?"

"You're a seer right? Why don't see yourself?" the monkey king sneered. Maybe he was being a bit too rude, but when people tended to point out his species, things didn't end up being very delightful.

"You think I'm a fake, don't you?"

"Of course you're a fake! You're lying to people just to gain more money."

"When did you think I was a fake? While waiting half a day in line or when entered my tent?" the seer teased.

"I knew it right away when I read the advertisement."

"And yet you came." the seer smirked knowingly.

"It was just to prove that you were a liar. A fake seer with no powers."

"Oh naive monkey, I may be a liar but that doesn't mean I'm not a seer. I can predict other's fate, just as I will predict yours."

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm a god. Let's say if you were a real seer, why would you con people instead of giving real divinations?"

"Just because I'm a seer, doesn't mean I can't earn money. Looking into the future for hundreds of people a day can be really tiring for a real seer. Now do you want me to predict your fate or not? I'll even yours for free~"

"But I already pai-"

"Hush now. Let me focus." the seer said as the candles began to flicker and the tent seemed to have even more smoke, making it harder to see.

"What you are looking for,

Will let you live forever more,

Your light shall shine brighter than most,

However many won't agree with what you chose,

I see a light helping others find their own,

But I also see it destroying someone's home,

Your fate will be decided by how you use your flame,

But your doom will be decided by who you choose to blame."

"..."

"Well, vision's over. Time for you to go monkey. I have other customers to tend to." the seer chirped.

"Wait! What was that supposed to mean?" the monkey king asked

"You will know what it means when your time comes. Now move along. Time is money I'm not wasting." the seer replied now pushing the monkey out.

"Fine! And just so you know I still don't believe you." the monkey huffed as he left the tent, not waiting to hear the seer's reply.

"Oh, we'll see Sun Wukong." the seer chuckled.

------------------

Masterpost

Previous chapter

Next chapter

[upwards-descent]

Their Gothic Romance pt. 2

First part here

Franklin turned out to be significantly more helpful than Aspergillus could've possibly predicted.

The gravekeeper knew everything there was to know about cadavers and decomposition and so on and so forth. Even if his means of communication was simple and slow, he very clearly knew what he was looking at and spoke with confidence. Asper found him fascinating, alluring. He was quietly frustrated as the days turned to weeks and he became just as excited to see Franklin again as he was to get his hands on more samples.

They always met under the cover of night, though Franklin requested that the necromancer come closer to sunset one time. Asper kept his hood up as he moved through town. He didn't meet anyone's eyes and no one made an effort to meet his. At least being ignored had its perks.

Vaulting over the cemetery's wooden fence as he always did, Asper didn't have a hard time finding Franklin. He was sitting on a blanket under the massive tree that marked the end of the cemetery and the beginning of the woods. His ears perked up at the sound of boots on dirt and he smiled at Asper as he approached.

"Evening," Franklin rumbled. "Did you eat dinner?"

"I don't eat much in general," Asper flipped his hood back. His eyes went wide when he noticed what Franklin had with him. "Is this... A picnic?"

"Yes," Franklin grinned, big and sweet and dopey. "Papa taught me how to cook. I made... Cabbage rolls... Bread... Cheese pie... Meatball soup... Potato salad..."

"Good god, Franklin," Asper crossed his legs beneath him as he sat down on the blanket, watching in awe as each dish was produced from a cute wicker basket. "You made all of these yourself?"

"I did," His smile somehow got even wider. "I have many hobbies. Cooking... Reading... Gravekeeping... Bird watching... Oh. Wait, one more thing..."

Franklin reached around behind him and procured a gorgeous bouquet of roses. They were velvet black and vibrant and fresh. Asper was rendered speechless, taking them as they were passed over. He inhaled deeply. Beautiful.

"Franklin, I... I don't know what to say," A little droplet of moisture hit Asper's hand. Oh, god, he was crying. "No one has ever shown me such kindness before, I..."

"I like you," Franklin's smile subsided, his brows knitting. "I... Wanted to give you something nice to... Show you I like you."

"You like me?" Asper wiped at his cheek as more tears fell. "Like... Romantically?"

Franklin nodded, looking rather shy. He watched apprehensively as Asper set aside the roses, scooting closer on his knees until they were just centimeters apart.

"What do you like about me, Franklin?" Asper asked quietly, peering up at him with big dark eyes.

"Oh, everything. You're so smart and nice to me... You're very cute and funny... You work hard... When I see you, I wanna keep you safe," Franklin reached out, catching a tear with one thick finger. "I know I'm not smart... Papa says my brain doesn't work as good as most people but... I try to be nice and... Talk good--"

"Oh, Franklin," Throwing all caution to the wind, Asper flung his arms around the gravekeeper's massive shoulders, burying his face in his neck. The lovely smell of herbs and clean skin filled his head. "You are the kindest, most sincere, most honorable man I've ever met. I like you, too, Franklin."

Two big arms wrapped around Asper's small frame, nearly enveloping him completely. They embraced for a good few moments, Franklin subtly rocking them back and forth. When they pulled away, Asper held his face in his hands. It was funny to look at, how tiny his features looked against Franklin's head. He was like a bear, hulking and powerful but soft and warm with such a lovely expression of kindness on his blunt features. Asper kissed him, under the big gnarled tree, in the cemetery under the dark lovely sky. 

"More kisses after," Franklin beamed when Asper pulled away. His cheeks were red and his eyes were bright. "The food is getting cold."

"Of course," Asper grinned, playfully pinching his cheek. "I'll eat whatever you give me because I know it'll be delicious."

Asper tried not to cry again at the first bite. Delicious was far too tame for how utterly scrumptious Franklin's cooking was. If only they could run off and live together in romantic bliss. Maybe his frame wouldn't be so skeletal for once.

[jetravenex]

I love messing with this map. It's also funny how easy it is to change the colors by accident. I was running different scenarios and then I noticed the numbers were off and I was like... wait why is Utah blue? That's not right. *reset* oh yeah no it's a red state

Numbers look off again. There is no way Alabama would go blue *reset* yeah it's a red state XP

But anyways, my fondness for playing with the map aside, I think this is solid though I wouldn't count out the possibility of getting Georgia or Florida just yet. I can't really nail down an honest to goodness real prediction because I have not really sat with and analyzed the data... but here's what I'd like to see:

This would be pretty nice to see. I don't know if we'll see NC or Florida flip or we'll hold Georgia... but it'd be nice

And then the absolute pie in the sky, stars align, manifesting big blowout energies of victory this would make me believe in the good in the world and that God really wanted to tell DonOLD to go eff off.

Texas because it's trending purpley and purpley every election cycle, and with the MSG hate rally, he might've turned off latinos that were dump curious there. Highly unlikely, pie in the sky, but that's why I said this was the stars align situation. And then Ohio is because screw Shady Vance, and also because of how much Springfield had to deal with because of Donold's words. Dunno if that's enough of a reason for Ohio to flip. But it'd be a big middle finger to the pair of them XP.

Here is my prediction, I might being hopeful here

[bittehelfen]

slightly pie in the sky prediction: The Trump economic plan backfires so hard the US' credit rating is downgraded, thereby causing a global recession