#Honky Tonk Tears

[undyingghoul]

It has been a fucking DAY. Dysphoria has smacked me in the face pretty hard and it got me thinking about Tyler and how he'd help. So take these little self-indulgent thoughts I had on the matter of ftm!reader ~~~~~~~~~~ Tyler noticed right away that morning that something was off. The way your tone was, the way you avoided looking in the mirrors, and how your eyes seemed to be glassy. What confirmed his suspicions, though, was how you almost cried when someone addressed you as "ma'am" in passing at the store. He didn't miss the way your bottom lip quivered, or that tiny noise you always make when something strikes you badly. He was quick to gently escort you out of the store and kept his touch light and soft just in case physical touch was bad.

It didn't take long to get back to his house and Tyler was extremely thankful for that. Once he had you inside and the door clicked shut you broke into tears and loud sobs. Tyler moved to stand in front of you. "Oh, my sweet darlin'... I'm so sorry, it breaks my heart to see you like this," He told you as you leaned against him and he wrapped his arms around you. He smoothed a hand over your hair and the other rubbed your back gently as he swayed side to side with you. Between your sobs, you could hear Tyler humming softly until he started to sing to you. "Shake it for the young bucks sittin' in the honky-tonks, for the rednecks rockin' 'til the break of dawn." You laughed a little bit as he started to slowly spin around with you. "For the DJ spinnin' that country song, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon- Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees, shake it for the catfish swimmin' deep down deep in the creek. For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels. Shake it to the moon, shake it for me boy." Tyler pulled away from you and grabbed your hands as he danced what was possibly the stupidest and silliest dance you've ever danced as he sang even louder with a wide grin. "Country boy, shake it for me, boy, shake it for me boy, shake it for me," He continued to sing as he spun you around until he let go of your hand and proceeded to rock his body to mock a shake. Your sobs had turned into loud laughter as you watched Tyler do whatever it was that he was doing in front of you. Tyler broke into his own fit of laughter and couldn't finish his singing and show of dancing. You came over to him and hugged him tightly. "Ugh, damn you and the way you know to make me laugh and get me out of that mindset!" You hissed playfully and smacked his chest gently. Tyler shrugged and smiled at you. "Hey, at least I know what gets you, right?" He shot back with a smirk. You sighed softly and rested your head on his chest. "My pretty boy, you're so handsome, you know that?" Tyler cooed. You nodded against him. "Your brain is just an asshole sometimes. You're the most handsome cowboy I've ever seen in my life, baby, and I'll give that brain of yours a piece of my mind if it ever tells you otherwise." You giggled softly and looked up at Tyler. "Doing better?" He asked softly. "Yeah, thank you," You mumbled softly. Tyler grinned. "Tornadoes aren't the only thing I know how to wrangle, you know," He teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes at Tyler and he only laughed.

[hornyhornyhimbos]

to the person who anonymously asked about cowboy!steve and reader's future, this fic is not that. the fic you asked for will be coming very soon 🫶🏻

"Honky-Tonk Badonkadonk" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: A certain cowboy and his girl start reminiscing, what with all the things they have planned for their new bar. But maybe, just maybe, they get a tiny bit sidetracked along the way.

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2,674

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) 69-ing and wall sex, semi-protected piv sex (reader has an IUD but they don't use condoms), oral both!receiving, fingering f!receiving, cum swallowing, creampie, slightly public sex but not really, nicknames (princess, sweetheart, cowgirl; cowboy, daddy one time), multiple orgasms for both steve ans reader, mentions of squirting but it doesn't actually happen, explicit language, takes place in a bar, probably more because this is filthy as hell

Extra Notes: this took me so long for no good reason, i am so sorry y'all

Originally Written: 04/25/2023 - 05/12/2023; re-written 06/12/2023 - 06/13/2023

Beta Read By: @writer-in-theory (ilysm!!)

filthy fridays can be found here!

stranger things masterlist can be found here!

You took one last look around what was once known as The Lucky Shot, nostalgia flowing through your veins.

The bar was finally starting to look like yours and Steve's, though you nearly shed a tear when he began to paint over the four-leaf clover mural you'd come to love. You were quite sad to see the old place go, but your heart warmed as you thought through all the new possibilities.

Only one piece remained from the old furniture, the little white sofa along the far wall, right next to where the dartboard previously hung. Steve had insisted on leaving it there for when the two of you needed breaks during your renovations, but thus far it had been abandoned.

As if on cue, Steve’s lips met your bare shoulder, placing a delicate peck beside the strap of your tank top. His hands settled on your hips, his voice exhausted and thick as he said, "Come on. Let's take a break."

You were inclined to argue with him. After all, the more work you did, the closer this bar was to being finished. Steve's fan base had been excited for an opening date ever since he'd announced the making of Harrington Brewing Co. Or whatever the two of you decided to name it.

You'd both gone back and forth on what to name the place ever since you'd signed the papers, but nothing had stuck yet. So, until then, you'd settled on Harrington Brewing Co.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, Steve guided you over to the couch, trailing kisses along any bare skin he could find. Sure, your fiancé always craved physical touch, but something about his gestures made you skeptical, wondering if he wanted those kisses to lead to more.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down onto the leather sofa. He let out a content sigh as he kissed your hair, holding you as close as humanly possible. "Can't believe we have a place that's officially ours."

You let out a sigh of your own, a wide smile taking over your face. "I know," you replied, craning your head to face him. "And just think, in a couple months, we'll be signing the papers on our first house together."

Steve's thumb drew small figure eights across your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. "I can't believe you actually want to live with me until the day I die."

"Of course I do," you told him, planting your lips on his for a long overdue kiss. "It's not every day the world's sexiest cowboy asks you to marry him."

As silly as it sounded, it really was true. A national magazine had named Steve 'sexiest cowboy of the year' and you had yet to let him live it down. Any chance you got to mention it, you'd bring it up immediately. Once, when his best friend Dustin had called, you'd even answered the phone with, "You've reached the Harrington residence: home of the sexiest cowboy alive!"

He pulled you back in for another kiss, his hands planted firmly on your hips as he rolled you over. You knew this was the moment those little gestures had been leading up to, but for some reason, you couldn't force yourself to care. You just kept on kissing him.

You could feel his hard-on bump your thigh when his hips rutted, his hands moving to your ass as he rutted them a second time. You moaned as your own hips shifted, his length pressing against the front of your shorts.

"Baby," you said against his lips, "are you ready to call it a day? Head home?"

Steve's lips chased after yours, working your bottom lip between his teeth. He managed to shake his head as he pulled away. "No. I want to take you right here on this couch."

Your heart thumped so loud it made your ears ring. On the one hand, you'd always been kind of curious about public sex. On the other hand, you really couldn't tell if Steve was being serious. "Steve, anybody could-"

"Babe, it's not like anyone's gonna come in here. The place doesn't even have an 'Open For Business' sign. Besides, Harrington's Honky-Tonk isn't exactly in the town square."

You knew by the sharpness of his words that he was joking when he'd called the place by that name, but something about it felt exactly right. "That's it! That's what we'll name it. Harrington's Honky-Tonk."

"We are most definitely not naming it that, but if agreeing gets me one step closer to having my dick shoved inside you, I will gladly agree."

You rolled your eyes, your lips landing on his for a triumphant peck. "Thank you. Now, do that thing you were doing a minute ago."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"Dirty talking and making me feel like the luckiest girl alive."

His hands gripped your waist, pushing you down against his hard-on. You gasped as he brushed against you, the friction of his jeans absolutely painful through the sheer material of your shorts. "You are the only one who has ever gotten me this hard, you know that?"

Of course you did, he reminded you every time you found yourself in a position like this. "Uh-huh," you managed, your breath caught in your throat.

"I think you should be the one to do something about it, yeah?"

You nodded, slowly moving your hand to the fastening of his jeans. His hand gripped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. "No, no, not yet. I want you to cum first. Sit on my face, princess."

You cocked an eyebrow, your hands moving back to the button of his pants. "Who said we can't do both at the same time?"

"Shit," he chuckled, lifting his hips to help you pull his boxers and pants down. You didn't think Steve's cock could get any prettier, but something about the way the natural sunlight was shining around him on that couch… it had your mouth watering. "Have I ever told you I love you?"

You maneuvered yourself higher so you could remove your own bottoms. "A couple times," you smirked, moving to hover above him.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his mouth, his tongue immediately going to work. His hands met your hips, helping you find a steady rhythm against his mouth.

His tongue lapped at your hole, and you were already feeling weak. A sigh left your parted lips as you lowered your mouth onto his cock, your lips fitting around the head like the perfect puzzle piece.

He moaned against your clit, the vibration only pushing you further toward the edge. He left kitten licks in all the places you needed them, eliciting a whine from your lips that was silenced by his cock.

Steve lifted your hips, his mouth parting from your cunt. Your body ached with need, and you nearly pouted around his cock when he removed his mouth. "I meant what I said." He paused in between sentences to kiss your core. "I want you to cum first."

"Well, cowboy," you said, traveling one of your hands down to his balls, squeezing them in the way you knew he loved. "We'll just have to see about that."

The further into your relationship you got, the more of a competition it was to make each other cum. Whether that be you making Steve cum the hardest or him making you cum more than him, the two of you seemed to have a little competition going. Not that you were complaining. He'd made you squirt three times in one night just last week. Who were you to say anything?

His tongue plunged in and out of your hole, creating the perfect pace. You moaned pornographically around his length, your hand squeezing at his heavy balls. Your hips rolled against his face, no doubt soaking the mustache he'd been growing out. This was by no means the first time he'd eaten you out with a mustache, yet somehow, the sensation got even better every time it happened.

Your hips rutted time and time again, chasing down your high. He worked his tongue in heavenly figure eights, drinking up every drop your body had to offer him. Want filled your entire body, burning in your fingertips and curling your toes. You forced the rest of his length into your mouth, coming apart as you whimpered around it. Your cunt fluttered on his tongue, Steve's hips canting in response. Nothing got Steve off quicker than you cumming on his tongue. You knew his release was right behind yours.

He worked you through your orgasm, suckling softly on your clit and holding tight to your love handles. A muffled string of moans tumbled from your lips as you fucked your mouth with his cock, your hand fondling his tight balls. With one last thrust of your mouth, he came undone, his load shooting down your throat in warm spurts. You milked his cock, swallowing down everything his body would give you.

Your spent body fell flush on top of Steve, his dick still halfway hard as you held him in your hand. His chest rose and fell underneath you as he attempted to catch his breath. "Cowgirl, you find new ways to amaze me every day."

"You're not so bad yourself, Stevie." His cock twitched at the nickname. Your fingers traced circles around his thigh, a content sigh escaping your lips. "You ready to call it a day yet, cowboy?"

"Not yet," he answered. "There's one last thing we need to do before we leave. Up."

At his instruction, you pushed yourself off the couch, tugging your shorts back up. Steve wrapped his hand around yours, stopping your motions. "Who said it had anything to do with your clothes being on?"

Heat rushed through your cheeks as he stood and, in one swift motion, had your legs wrapped around his waist. He backed you up against the wall, the bricks digging into your skin but somehow managing to only aid your senses. His lips met your neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse point. One of his arms managed to hold your body up while the other moved in between your bodies, his thumb catching your clit in a round of intoxicating circles. Your lips fell into an open 'O' as noiseless gasps and moans fell out.

"God, you're so pretty," he whispered against the shell of your ear. "Can't believe I haven't done this yet."

Your brows pinched together in both confusion and pleasure. "D-Done what?" you managed to ask, words seeming utterly impossible as he worked at your core.

"Christened this bar with you," he answered. His lips all but attacked your neck again, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. One of his digits teased your entrance, and your hips canted against it.

You let out a moan, though confusion had fully taken over your face by this point. "Christened the bar?"

He nodded, licking over a newly purple spot on your neck. "We've owned this bar for a whole two weeks and we haven't fucked in here yet."

"Is that what you call this, Harrington?" you attempted to tease, but even you knew it was a pathetic attempt. Your voice bordered on strangled as you said, "Pretty sure fucking involves having something inside me."

His finger finally made its way inside your aching hole, the breath nearly being knocked out of your lungs. "Yeah? How's that, sweetheart?"

A string of moans tumbled off your tongue, your back arching against the bricks. "Oh, Steve," you sighed, your eyes screwing shut at the pleasure.

"Hey, baby, you think you can keep those pretty eyes open for me?" he asked, his tone sweet like he wasn't actively shoving a second finger inside you as he spoke. "Need you to see the only man who can make you feel this good."

You all but pried your eyes open, meeting his lust-filled irises. His fingers pumped in and out of you at the perfect pace, and soon, you were on the edge of cumming a second time.

He flexed the digits inside you, brushing your G-spot every time they moved. You moaned his name like a record stuck on a loop, your eyes watering as your second orgasm approached. His mouth melded to yours, catching you in a sloppy make-out session as he drove his fingers even further inside you. You'd died and gone to heaven, that was the only real explanation as to how this man could make you feel so damn good.

Euphoria took over your body, his fingers working your spent hole as you tried poorly to catch your breath. A string of profanities and whimpers fell from your tongue as he removed the digits, holding them to your mouth. You licked and sucked on his fingers, hypnotized by your taste.

He met your lips with a juxtaposing soft kiss, his hands moving to hold both sides of your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Did so good, baby."

"Steve," you teased breathlessly, though it sounded more like a moan. "You still haven't properly fucked me yet."

"So greedy, princess," he teased back, lining himself up with your entrance. "Just can't get enough of me, can you?" He slowly pushed inside, and you fell limp against his chest. "You alright?" he asked, half serious and half playfully.

You managed to nod, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling from your parted lips. "Need you to help me out here, please," you all but begged.

He chuckled, meeting your forehead with a soft kiss and slowly pulling out of you. "Good girl," he cooed, gradually sliding his cock back into you. "Telling daddy what you want, yeah?"

It wasn't often that the two of you indulged in your daddy kink, but when you did, it never ceased to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. Your hips somehow found a way to pick up their pace again, rocking against Steve's at a delicious pace.

His hands helped guide you, your bodies practically fusing together as you met each other in the perfect rhythm. He twitched inside you as you pulsed around him, his lips trailing kisses along the skin that your tank top didn't cover. Your hands held tight to the hair on the nape of his neck, moans vibrating along your breasts.

His orgasm came first, his thick seed shooting inside you as he continued working you on his length. "Fuck's" and "Shit's" tumbled from his lips and his hips canted, his thumb moving to rub frenzied circles on your clit. Your climax burned through your body, eyes crossing as he abused your hole. You chanted his name like a mantra, like it was your lifeline.

Steve held you close as he lowered you down the wall, his lips meeting your forehead with a juxtaposing softness. He chuckled against the crease between your brow, "Thank god for IUDs, right?"

You let out a soft, shaky giggle as you reached for your panties. Your hands trembled, failing to get a good enough grip to pull them up.

Steve caught your struggle, giving you a playful smile and pulling your underwear and shorts back on for you. He zipped up his jeans with quickness, then held your hand and led you toward the door. His lips connected to your bare shoulder, the softness grounding you for a moment. "Let's go home, yeah?"

You wobbled back to his truck, your chest still heaving as you processed all that had just happened, his cum still deep inside you. He pulled the door open for you, a smirk settling on your lips as you eyed his ass. "You wanna know something, cowboy?"

He chuckled at your expression, knowing that tone all too well. "Yeah?"

Your hand met his ass, grabbing the curve of his jeans. "I think that is why they call it a honky-tonk badonkadonk."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[rhettabbotts]

lavender haze: “there is no way anyone is that innocent,” with rhett. please and thank you!!🤍

and once again congratulations on 750 followers!!🥰🥰

nice to have a friend - rhett abbott x reader

summary: seeing rhett after years of being apart causes some repressed feelings to resurface… and you may end up acting on them this time around.

pairing: rhett abbott x fem!reader

w/c: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only. smut. afab reader. childhood friends reconnecting. making out. fingering. handjob. dirty talk. rhett is a dog (affectionately).

Rhett knew that laugh from anywhere. He swore he could pick it out in a crowd of thousands. It was a warm and comforting sound he didn’t realize he had missed terribly. A laugh that took him back to the late nights smoking the cigarettes he stole from his grandpa’s pocket while laying in the bed of his truck. That laugh was coming out of someone he tried to forget time and time again - clearly with no luck. His heart was pounding as he turned away from the bartender, allowing his eyes to follow the sound of the laughter. There you were, corner booth with your best friends from high school, head thrown back at something that was said.

Rhett felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in the sight of you. Your hair was longer since the last time he saw you. That had been almost five, maybe six, years ago. You left town after graduation, moving out of Wyoming for college.

You told him so many times how you wanted to get away, how you wanted him to get away too. Rhett got accepted into the same school as you and you had it all planned out. You were planning move in dates and the new restaurants you were going to try. The closer it got to graduation, however, the more his nerves ramped up. His family was guilting him for even thinking about making the move, questioning him as to why he was moving hours away when he could attend the local school for half the price. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them it was because of the way they treated him.

The night before graduation was the night Rhett told you he wouldn’t be moving with you. That was the last night you had spoken to each other. You were upset, months of excitement turning into disappointment the longer Rhett tried explaining. You understood his reasoning, even though you knew it was bullshit. You knew his family had gotten into his head like they always did but he had to be the one to come to that realization. You loved him and you wished you could just take him with you, but you couldn’t let that hold you back.

So you left. You didn’t blink an eye when the ‘Town of Wabang’ sign faded in your rearview mirror. College was fun, overwhelming most of the time, but fun nonetheless. You made a lot of new friends and you found yourself thinking of Rhett less and less. He was still back there in your mind, just not consuming every thought.

You graduated and worked a little bit before coming back home. Your grandfather had gotten sick and you decided it was time to go back to Wabang - even though your chest filled with dread at the thought of driving back into those city limits.

You made plans to go out with your girlfriends from high school the first week you were back. No matter what happened in each others lives, you were still incredibly close.

The Handsome Gambler had not changed at all since the last time you had seen it; it was still that hole-in -the-wall honky tonk all of the cowboys went to to drink their sorrows away.

Harper ordered a round of tequila shots the second you found your seats, earning a groan from the table. You breathed in deeply before taking the shot, shoving the lime into your mouth to rid the burning sensation in your chest. You caught up on life and what had been happening with your time away; Angie is engaged, Harper is still Harper, dating a new guy this week, and Kat was moving in with her girlfriend. You had missed them all terribly, laughing until you were almost in tears as Isabella talked about her last failed Bumble date.

As you looked up and across the bar, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you were met with a familiar set of blue eyes staring back at you. Your laughter died out instantly, eyes locked with Rhett’s. The girls noticed your fallen face and followed your gaze, stopping their conversation once they saw Rhett. Once he felt them looking, he turned on his bar stool back towards the bartender.

Your thumping heartbeat drowned out the questions of concern and the music that was blaring from the speakers. It was like you were on autopilot when you muttered “I’m going outside to get some air,” before standing up and walking outside. You felt like you were finally able to breath in what seemed to be forever. Your hands were shaking as you pressed your back against the rough surface of the brick wall.

He looked good - a little too good, if you were being honest. His features have matured. Gone was the last bit of baby fat his cheeks held when you were teenagers. His shoulders were broader and his eyes were a little sunken in, like he hadn’t been sleeping a wink at night. God, his eyes. There’s something that hasn’t changed. They still sparkled with a hint of mischief - just like always.

You were running your hands down your face, sighing loudly into empty street. You didn’t think seeing him would cause you to feel this way. You swore everything you felt for him back in high school was gone, so how can you explain your rapid heart rate and the flush that’s running all over your body?

You heard the bell chime as someone walked out of the bar and you prayed that when you opened your eyes it would be one of your friends. As you took a peek, you were met with the sight of Rhett standing there, taking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Well, the universe had it out for you apparently. He didn’t notice you were standing against the wall until he heard your foot scrap across the sidewalk. His head whipped towards the sound and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk.

“Well… this was the last place I thought I’d see you, y/n.” His deep voice sent a chill down your spine. There was another thing that changed. You hummed in response, not entirely sure how you should go about this conversation. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too. You look… tired,” you said, mentally slapping yourself as the words spilled out. Smooth move. Rhett chuckled, however, seemingly not taking any offense to the comment.

“It’s because I am tired. Had a pretty rough ride last night,” he muttered, pulling a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the way his nimble fingers flicked the lighter open and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t resist watching the muscles in his neck work as he craned his head to blow the smoke into the brisk fall air. He offered the cigarette to you after he took another drag and you took it with hesitation. The last time you had smoked anything was that last time out in the west pasture.

“So-“

“So-“

You both started speaking at the same time, laughing quietly as you did so. Rhett gestured for you to go first, taking the cigarette back from you to let you talk.

“My grandpa’s sick. That’s why I’m back. We’re hoping he’ll pull out of it soon. He seems to be doing better every day,” your voice coming out more sad than you wanted it to. Rhett nodded along. Of course he knew, you’re sure your mother had told Cecilia. “What about you? You still on the ranch?”

Rhett cleared his throat before he spoke up, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “Uh, yeah. Still on the ranch. I’ve been bull riding for a couple of years now. Helps bring in some extra money.” He kicked at a pebble on the ground, afraid to look you in the eye. Afraid to see the look of disappointment or pity that was more than likely on your face.

“So you’re riding bulls now? Just like your dad?” Your voice was full of nothing but curiosity, and when he looked up, he knew you weren’t disappointed in him. He nodded and lit another cigarette while you stood outside and talked. You told him about school, about how you wanted to drop out several times but your mother threatened your life if you did. You told him about the corporate job you had that you absolutely hated - explaining that was another reason you came home.

When you started to shiver, Rhett took his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. You were enveloped in warmth and the scent of him. He smiled softly as he met your eyes.

“I’ve got another ride at the county fair this weekend. Would you be interested in coming to watch? You don’t have to, just wanted to extend the offer.” He asked shyly.

“I wouldn’t miss Mrs. Baker’s famous funnel cakes for nothing in this world! Of course I’ll be there,” you said as you nudged his shoulder. It felt nice to fall back into the joking and teasing that happened between the two of you.

“I’ll be the one on the bull.”

“I can’t wait.”

The weekend came sooner than you expected; between staying busy with family and job searching the time flew by. You stood in front of your mirror fussing with your hair for what seemed like the fifteenth time in the past thirty minutes. You don’t know why you were so worried about how you looked - it was just the county fair for crying out loud. You smoothed out your dress one last time before heading out the door.

Harper met you there and you headed to the funnel cakes immediately. You were met with the smell of sweet fair food and beer - a smell that felt like home. You grabbed your food and drinks and made your way to the stands.

You had made it just in time, Rhett was riding next and you anxiously awaited his turn in your seat. Once they announced his name, you and Harper were hollering out for him. You felt your heart stop when he made eye contact with you from the shoot, throwing you a quick smile before nodding his head. Harper elbowed you in the side, not missing a single beat. He had a successful ride, holding on for the entire eight seconds. You were up and out of your seat at the sound of the buzzer, jumping and clapping with the rest of the crowd.

You didn’t get to see Rhett after his ride but he did text you, telling you to meet him at his truck at the back of the gates. You told Harper where you were going and headed down the bleachers, stopping along the way to say hello to people you hadn’t seen since you left. Rhett was propped against the hood of his truck when you finally made your way to him, cowboy hat sitting low on his head nearly covering his eyes.

“Well, I’d say you’re a full-fledged cowboy now, Abbott,” you teased, knocking your boot against his own. He just laughed heartily before reaching down beside him to pass you a beer bottle.

“Is that right?” He asked, bumping his hip into yours lightly. “You wanna take a drive?”

“I guess I can’t say no to the Amelia County champion, now can I? I’m expecting a milkshake.” Rhett rolled his eyes playfully before opening your door.

You picked up milkshakes and fries, parking out in your spot in the pasture on the Abbott Ranch - well, what used to be your spot. You were sure he’s brought more girls out here since you left. You didn’t want to approach that subject, but figured it was time to bring it up. It seems like Rhett was itching to ask you the same thing, considering he’s the one to mention it first.

“So… find you any guys in the big city?” He asked as he shoveled fries into his mouth. You shook your head, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

“No, no city boys. No guys at all for that matter. Didn’t have time to date,” you spoke quietly, ashamed to admit your inexperience in dating. “What about you? I know you were chasing Maria’s tail before we graduated.”

“We kissed once and there was nothing there. She moved off to Oregon to be a vet. So you’re telling me you’ve not dated anyone since you moved?” His tone wasn’t judgmental but he was a little shocked.

“I’ve never even- you know… I mean I did some stuff with this one guy in college but we never dated. We never had sex either it was just… other stuff,” you admitted, hiding your face in your hands. Rhett placed a hand on your arm, urging you to look at him.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. I’m sorry for prying. I just- I didn’t think there was any way you were that innocent,” he said softly. He didn’t mean it in a teasing way and you knew that from the way he looked at you. His eyes looked deep into your own and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving just an inch closer towards Rhett in the bed of his truck. You were older now - you knew what you wanted - and you knew you wanted him. You’ve always wanted him but you were too scared to ruin your friendship. You didn’t realize you were staring at his lips until he whispered your name.

“I missed you… thought about you all the time,” his voice rough and he moved that much closer to you. You were practically touching noses at this point. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before bumping his nose against your own. Your eyes fluttered closed as you held your breath. “Thought about how I’ve always wanted to do this.”

His lips connected with yours, causing you to gasp against his mouth. His hand held onto the back of your head, pulling you forward to deepen the kiss. He tasted like chocolate and salt and something that was just so Rhett it made your head spin. He slid his tongue against your own, moaning at the way you tugged on the ends of his hair. He pulled away far too quickly, smirking at the way you chased after his lips. His kisses moved down to your neck, nipping at your jaw. You whimpered loudly, thankful you were in a secluded area.

Rhett pulled you into his lap as his mouth found its way back to your own, not wasting any time to allow things to heat up. He had a firm hold on your hips as your tongues battled for dominance.

“Rhett,” you gasped out, “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” he muttered against your mouth. He flipped the two of you over, holding the back of your head to keep it from hitting the truck bed. He leaned back on his heels, eyes roaming over your body like he wanted to devour you. Your legs spread on their own accord, causing your dress to ride up to your upper thighs. Rhett bit his thin lower lip as his hand brushed against your knee.

“What do you want, honey?” Rhett asked as he leaned over you once more, placing a kissing to your cheekbone.

“Want you to touch me. Please,” you whined. You pulled your dress up further, above your hips to reveal your purple lacy underwear. Rhett groaned at the sight, leaning back again to trace his fingertips along your inner thighs. One finger traced against the front of your panties, causing you to buck your hips into the sensation. He’s barely touched you and you were already putty in his hands.

“Oh, baby. I can feel how wet you are through these pretty little panties. You want me to touch you, don’t you?” He cooed, voice laced with desire. You nodded eagerly, raising your hips for him to pull your underwear down. The first sight of your pussy caused him to moan and place a hand on his hardening cock. “Goddamn…”

He teased your cunt until you were nearly in tears, fingertips sliding through the wet folds in light touches. He avoided your sensitive bundle of nerves on purpose. Rhett loved seeing you squirm, loved hearing you beg for it.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers? Yeah, you want that?”

You keened as he slid one finger inside your tight hole, taking his time working it in and out of you until you relaxed. You didn’t know what to do with your hands so you just started to play with your chest, pinching your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress as Rhett continued his ministrations. He slid another finger along with the first, curling them deep inside. You couldn’t help but flush at the sounds of him fingering you, echoing out into the night.

“God, you’re clenching my fingers so tight. Fuck, look at you,” he palmed himself through his jeans as he watched his fingers slide in and out of you. You reached towards him, fumbling blindly with his belt buckle.

“Wanna touch you, Rhett,” you said as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. He shifted his hips forward slightly, allowing you better access to his button and zipper. You pulled his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, biting your lip at the way his hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. You spit on your hand and wrapped your hand around him, keeping your eyes on his face to gauge his reaction. He let out a curse before continuing his work on you, fucking his fingers inside you faster. You met his pace, both of you were moaning messes. His thumb finally connected with your clit which caused you to sob out a moan.

“Feels so good, Rhett. Oh god, right there!”

“I know you’re close, sweetheart. Clamping down on my fingers so tightly. You gonna cum for me? Wanna see you fall apart. I’ve thought about this so many times.” One thing that surprised you was that Rhett’s mouth did not stop running. He was usually a man of few words but not now, not in this moment. He was fucking into your fist, quickening his fingers until you were crying out and tightening your hold on him. You came on his fingers as stars danced behind your eyelids. He slowed his thrusts inside of you until you were whimpering, feeling incredibly sensitive afterwards.

“That’s it, baby. So fucking pretty. God, m’close.” It didn’t take but a few more strokes until he was coming onto your hand and lower stomach. He bent down once more to press a firm kiss to your lips. You were both breathless, giddy smiles spreading across your faces. He wiped his hand on his jeans, using the sleeve of his abandoned flannel to clean you up.

“Well, that was long overdue,” he said, voice full of humor. He pulled your dress down but shoved your panties into his back pocket, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You gonna actually take me on a date now?” You asked, snuggling up to him as he pulled the other blanket he had over the top of you both.

“Honey, I’ll take you on a hundred dates if that means I get to keep you forever.”

Forever. You really liked the sound of that.

[ddejavvu]

AFTER CASUALLY DOMINANT HOTCH I NEED A CASUALLY DOMINANT HANGMAN😭😭😭

Jake had insisted that all you needed was a southern boyfriend, and a southern outfit. The bar you're headed to tonight can't be described with anything less than honky tonk, and you're nervous about fitting into an environment you'd never been in before.

You don't look the part. Even though there's a flannel over your shoulders, even though there's cowboy boots up to your calves, even though there's a hat perched on your head, you still feel like an outsider.

"Well," Jake chuckles, voice thick with honey-sweet adoration, "You sure gave it a shot, darlin'."

"Hey!" You whirl around from where you're fixing your collar in the mirror, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Your eyes fill with crocodile tears and your lip quivers, something he presses his thumb gently against to soothe you.

"No, no, no," He croons, smoothing away the wrinkle in your brow with a thick, rough finger, "No tears, sweetheart. All I'm sayin' is you could use a little help."

"With what?'

"With this," He grabs at the flannel over your chest from behind, tugging it out from where it's tucked into your torn jean shorts. He unbuttons the bottom three buttons, bunching them into thin strands and tying the two sides together just above your navel. It exposes your midriff but it's not uncomfortable, especially not when he smooths his calloused, warm hands over the skin on display.

"There y'go," He noses at your neck, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "And the hat..." He eyes the brown hat on your head, glancing at your pink shirt, "That's not gonna work."

He swaps it out for one of his sister's pink ones, a silver lining around the rim. You think you look tacky, like a children's halloween costume, but he grins at you like you're a work of art.

"Perfect," He insists, turning his head where it's hooked over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, "I think you look like a real cowgirl, darlin'."

"Maybe I'll even try the mechanical bull," You muse, and he chuckles deep in his chest from beside your ear.

"I don't think so," He squeezes you tighter around the middle, admiring your outfit in the mirror and glancing at you with a signature smirk, "Only thing you'll be ridin' tonight is a cowboy. Save the horse, and all."

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Beginnings Week Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me @lonestar-s5countdown @she-walked-away @herefortarlos @strandnreyes @tellmegoodbye @the-126-family and @lemonlyman-dotcom!

(1) Which 911 Lone Star season premiere is your favorite?

If I'm going with the premiere as in the single first episode of the season, I have to go with the pilot. The ice storm arc as a whole would be the winner if I could include 4 episodes, but if it's single episode, 1x01 beats 3x01 for me. It's such an excellent introduction to the characters and really sets the tone for the show so well.

(2) Which character do you think had the best introduction or first scene in the show?

The one that had the biggest impact on me the first time through was TK. He's the character I most instantly fell in love with. We see him go through so much right away and, even without knowing anything about him, I was drawn in and started caring about him right away. Just in that first episode, we get to see his beautiful relationship with his father, his struggle with addiction, his goodness and how much he cares, as well as the moment he meets his soulmate!

(3) What is your favorite moment of 1x01?

There are lots of really great moments in 1x01! One of my favorites is definitely the montage of putting the crew together. This show always has such great montages and this first one is no exception. However, if I have to choose only one favorite moment, I think it would be Carlos asking TK to dance at the honky tonk. It's their beginning!

(4) When did you first start watching Lone Star and how did you find out about it?

In early February 2022, I started seeing Push gifs on tumblr, specifically TK waking up from his coma. I was intrigued, so one day I decided to give the show a try, despite the fact that I assumed a firefighter show wouldn't really be my thing. However, I started to fall in love with the characters right away and I experienced a wide range of emotions, from laughing at the ridiculousness of the baby in the tree rescue to tearing up at Judd's PTSD moment. I proceeded to catch up through 3x06 over the next week, just in time to watch 3x07 as it aired. When that episode ended, I thought, "this show could consume me." AND IT DID. Not a single day has passed since then without this show and Tarlos on my mind.

(5) What is one wish you have for the season 5 premiere?

I think I have the same wish that many others do: at least one happy husbands moment for TK and Carlos before the drama gets going. I know there's going to be drama and tension for these two and I'm fine with that. I welcome it! I can't wait to see what's in store for them! But I've also been waiting SIXTEEN MONTHS to see these two as husbands, so I hope we'll get at least a glimpse of happy husbands in love before the chaos begins.

[asparklethatisblue]

This is more a Francis hc than a fitzier hc but look at me and tell me this guy wouldn't absolutely project on sad old man country music (esp. if he's got love troubles). He's probably complaining about "country music today sucks and is not real country music, unlike my favourite era of country which never was seen as bad country" right now. He will use the term "hardcore honky tonk" despite it having not a lot to do with hardcore music

I can't send YouTube links but here's a list of songs. It's mostly Hank Williams

Mansion on the hill

Someday you'll call my name

There's a tear in my beer (the demo version without his son is better imo)

Six more miles to the grave yard

Midnight Run - James Hand

Just an old man with an old song - James Hand

Hello Walls - Faron Young

Thanks a lot - Ernest Tubb

Walking the floor over you(1941 ver) - Ernest Tubb

James is probably getting decked out in chappell roan merch as we speak

i don’t know that much country music but he’s so right about “this sucks now”. I mean, oh my god bro country? Jingoism? “Get drunk and drive cars?”. James turns on the top 50 country music station and Francis nearly throws the radio out of the window.

[wherewhereare]

Just in case it wants you sign in.

Blake Shelton plays Hershey: Throwbacks, new experiences, ‘beyond country’ behavior Updated: Feb. 23, 2024, 8:32 a.m.|Published: Feb. 23, 2024, 5:55 a.m.

By Kaylyn Greene | kgreene@pennlive.com Country singer and former “The Voice” coach Blake Shelton kicked off the 2024 leg of his “Back To Honky Tonk Tour” in Hershey last night and completely blew the roof off the Giant Center.

Shelton is taking on this tour with the help of country artist Dustin Lynch and former “The Voice” contestant Emily Ann Roberts. As someone who is very unfamiliar with country music, I was impressed by Shelton’s performance.

If I enjoyed Beyonce’s recent country releases, then I felt like I could feel similarly about some of Shelton’s discography. The country singer has a few hits I was familiar with such as “Austin” and " The More I Drink,” but by and large, country music is not my forte.

Here are 5 things that I found interesting and enjoyed as someone attending their first country music concert.

The demand and the enthusiasm for Shelton and country music. As I found my seat, I realized country music isn’t just popular in the south. The Giant Center was packed from the floor to the very top sections. Shelton’s fans of the singer were shouting, screaming and having the time of their lives. About 20 minutes into Shelton’s set, he stopped for a second to encourage the crowd to have even more fun.

“I feel like some people here are a little bit reluctant to really just turn loose, We need to all get involved here, this our night! We need to do some sing along (expletive)or something,” Shelton said. Then he got the crowd rowdy and ready by singing “Gonna” with a corn husk microphone.

The crowd was very mixed as there were couples, young and adult, women out with friends and family, there was room for everybody. Although the crowd remained seated for most of the concert, the energy was palpable. Fans were clapping, cheering and singing their hearts out to all of Shelton’s songs. The woman seated next to me had to be one of Shelton’s biggest fans, as she sang nonstop the entirety of his set and knew all of his older songs as well. Pennsylvanians proved they do love country music.

Shelton’s phenomenal crowd interactions

As an avid concert goer myself, I know a lot of bigger stars won’t stop to read fans’ signs or autograph memorabilia. Many fans will only get that chance if they buy meet and greet tickets or manage to catch their favorite stars outside a tour bus, but Shelton made time for his fans. He signed a fan’s hat, a poster board and even stopped to take a photo with a fan while continuing to sing.

He was very interactive with his audience and I liked the more hands-on approach to performing. While looking over the crowd, he noticed a lot of fans with a drinks in hand. “It’s a Thursday night in Hershey PA,” he said,, “and it is beyond country to be drinking and singing country music tonight.” Then he moved right into a fan favorite, “Hillbilly Bone”.

Shelton’s vocal ability

Prior to tonight, I associated country music with a slight twang in someone’s voice more than singing ability, but the Oklahoma singer has a very natural talent. This man performed for about one hour and 45 minutes with no backtrack behind him. There was not one moment where he relied on the backtrack to do the singing for him. He has a great voice and is a strong performer.

Halfway through his set, Shelton decided to take a few minutes to highlight some of his older music and one song in particular seemed to be quite a fan favorite despite its sad message. “The Baby,” a song based on the life of country singer Michael White, is a touching song that highlights the importance of family and not taking them for granted. The song brought tears to the eyes of a lot of fans, and I felt a little choked up listening to it. It was a beautiful tribute and I can appreciate the sentimental value of such a powerful song.

The fashion, or lack thereof

Shelton performed his entire concert with no wardrobe changes and no flashy outfits. I was fully prepared for a cool-looking cowboy hat, studded jeans and colorful attire, but instead found a button-up black shirt, blue jeans and brown cowboy boots. Fashion tends to play a large role for a lot of singers and it adds to the concert experience. Beyonce changed her wardrobe numerous times when I saw her in Philadelphia last year, but Shelton dressed in everyday attire. His female background singer was wearing exactly what I expected to see, a bedazzled top and cute bottoms along with some shiny cowgirl boots, but the main act was very casual.

Audience members, however, did not disappoint. I spotted one fan with an American flag cowboy hat, others in leather jackets and cowboy boots. The appreciation for all things country.

Watching Shelton sing along with his wife

While Gwen Stefani, popstar and Shelton’s wife, was not there in person, he was able to sing “Nobody But You” with her as she was projected in a video on the screen behind the band. I thought this was quite an interesting way to “sing along” with your wife. While it was a little comical to watch him sing to a screen, the two sang beautifully together and the song itself was very endearing.

I was not expecting to enjoy this concert as much as I did, but as time went on I noticed myself singing along to songs I never realized I knew. Shelton put on a wonderful performance, and is was a great start to his 2024 tour. With a powerful performance and a solid setlist, Shelton’s tour is one country fans are not going to want to miss.

Setlist:

“Come Back as a Country Boy” “A Guy With A Girl” “Everytime I Hear That Song” “Doing What She Likes” “Neon Light” “Sangria” “Gonna” “I’ll Name The Dogs” “Mine Would Be You” “Nobody But You” “Happy Anywhere” “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking” “Nobody But Me” “Home” “The More I Drink” “The Baby” “Ol Red” “Austin” “Sure Be Cool If You Did” “Honey Bee” “Hillbilly Bone” “Boys Round Here” “God’s Country” “God Gave Me You”

[yeahyankee]

Palimpsest [Trigun '98 - Post Show - Vash x Meryl]

There are days, here and there, when Meryl wakes up, and there is a well of tears, sealing her eyes shut. There will be the promise of a migraine later.

But for now, her face is wet. The memory is so fresh sometimes, on that cusp of sleep and waking up-- that she can smell the deep canyon dust and nightfall. She can remember the feeling of dangling her legs off the cliffside, a million separate stars above her.

Her hand, so close to his on the ground, that she could reach over and grab it. But instead, they simply sat, on a precipice above an out-of the-way town where no one would ever look for them.

You could stay here as long as you like.

That sounds good--he said, what seemed like a million years ago--Might not be such a bad idea.

There were so many mornings that started hard this way. Her body pulled away from the one moment she wanted to linger in the most.

On those days, she'd roll over on her bed and cry as quietly as possible until first light peered through her slatted window.

Milly had the good grace, thank heavens, to give her some extra time to get herself together.

Today, Meryl couldn't battle the puffiness of her eyes, so she smoothed her hair down and splashed her face with ice water from the basin.

She dabbed a washrag rag along her jaw, her chest, the inside of her arms.

The cool trickle of water on her chest evened out her heartbeat. Slowly, her body started to calm, her senses returning to the present.

I'm awake, I'm here, I've got important work that needs to be done.

Meryl went through the mantra again, tapping the tips of her fingers against the bones in her ribcage, just like Milly had shown her how to do when she felt a panic attack coming on.

She tried to push her body out of the exhausted anxiety she'd woken up with. She didn't have time for this.

All of that was years ago, and they had a major breakthrough coming down the pipeline on the Frangelene Twin disappearances. Her biggest concern right now was following up on ledes in town before their editor started sending in apoplectic telegrams.

Meryl bit back a sigh as she buttoned up the toggles on her coat. If she thought insurance management was grating--she was seriously underprepared for journalism, and the type of sleepless, deranged personalities that tended to bring out.

She slipped into her boots and dreamed of crawling back under the sheets, waiting until this case, and the impending dust storm had blown over. Maybe she and Milly could go back to the country and wait tables in some honky-tonk, and never have to worry about anything past their front door ever again.

She pulled her bedroom door open and heard Milly fiddling with the radio downstairs. The speakers jumped between snatched voices coming in choppily off the airwaves.

Sources--last actual sandstorm this large--area was approximately five years ago. Officials adivise all residents to--inside--as possible--

"Gosh, I really am sorry, I thought we'd get better reception than this," Milly apologized, and there was a clatter of movement and a light dragging of furniture.

A voice answered her, but she couldn't make out who, or what was being said.

Her forehead furrowed, making her way quietly downstairs. Who was visiting this early in the morning? On the eve of a sandstorm?

"I really thought she'd be up by now," Milly continued, moving around the room, "Her porridge is going to get cold."

"Oh well I'm always happy to have another helping, that sure was delicious Miss Milly," the voice answered.

Meryl's heart skipped a beat as she quietly padded towards the kitchen. She was imagining things. Stress playing tricks on her. It had been years, and truth be told, it was easy to forget a voice. Easy enough to hear what you wanted to hear.

She pushed through the kitchen door, readying herself for another random grifter she'd have to shoo off, or the postman with an irate letter from the home office.

Instead, Vash the Stampede sat casually at the end of the kitchen table, pouring himself coffee. The early morning light coming through the kitchen window was red-orange, the storm only a few miles off from town.

Vash's coat was folded politely over the back of the chair, and he sat, facing the kitchen door with his coffee cup, like he was waiting.

For her to come downstairs.

"Look who I found at the market this morning," Milly said brightly, pouring Meryl a cup of coffee.

"Mr. Vash," Meryl managed, trying not to feel like she was dreaming again. Out of place and time.

"Hey Meryl," he smiled, his eyes a warm, honeyed blue. There was overgrown scruff along his jaw, but he looked otherwise unchanged.

His smile was so warm as she sat down that she didn't have time to register his informality. After a small sip of coffee, she paused. How many times had he called her by just her name?

Milly put a warmed plate of thick-cut bacon onto the table. Meryl's favorite. She felt a bribe coming on.

"Mr. Vash came into town a bit later than expected by steamer, and it looks like all the rooms in town are booked up." She sat down and finished up her own remnants of breakfast. "I told him it'd be no problem if he stays with us while the storm passed through tonight."

"Oh really?" Meryl swallowed it all down, in between bits of bacon.

"Yep, we've got an extra room, and I figured it's no skin off our nose," she replied.

Meryl's eyes slid back over to Vash, who was already beginning to pout, looking hopefully at her.

She sighed, pulling another piece of bacon onto her plate. A concession. "Fine. As long as we still manage to send back some eyewitness reports before this weekend. No distractions until then."

Milly clapped her hands together in delight.

"Yes ma'am!" Vash saluted, before digging into the remainder of the bacon.

[reyesstrand]

seven-ish sentence sunday

thank you as always for the tag @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry <3333 haven’t really written the past few days and nothing was particularly good enough to share in my opinion, but here’s a little piece from the food fic!

He tears off a piece of pastry and pops it in his mouth and observes all the tiny details as Carlos eats; as he just exists. He watches as the crease between Carlos’ brows smooths when he closes his eyes, the methodical way he licks his fingers, the soft smile he exchanges with an older woman who passes them by with her dog. He’s so good. TK doesn’t know how he could ever deserve him.

“You’re suspiciously quiet over there,” Carlos tells him, wiping his hands with a crumpled up napkin.

TK spots a tiny bit of filling on the corner of Carlos’ mouth and doesn’t think before reaching over and wiping it away with his thumb. TK closes his lips around his fingertip and feels Carlos’ heavy gaze on him, and he barely holds back his smile. This is easy and familiar, and TK feels himself settle as he thinks back to when they were on equal footing in the dingy bathroom of the honky tonk, before everything started to shift. He doesn’t know when that shift happened, but it feels bone-deep and unmoving, and TK isn’t really sure what to make of it.

no pressure tagging @morganaspendragonss @beautifulhigh @marjansmarwani @never-blooms @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @sunshinestrand @safeashousespdf and open-tagging anyone who’d like to share <33

[thesinglesjukebox]

KELSEA BALLERINI WITH NOAH KAHAN - "COWBOYS CRY TOO"

It's time to be a cowboy nooowwwww / and cowboys DO cry...

[5.78]

Julian Axelrod: Noah Kahan's email inbox must look crazy these days. After securing a string of Stick Season features from his famous friends, I can imagine him slowly working through a stack of requests for verses like he's Ty Dolla $ign in 2016. Kelsea Ballerini is among the first to cash in on the Kahanaissance, and she's not fucking around: Nothing says "I, too, would like to sell out arenas in Vermont" like an earnest folk ballad about fragile masculinity and the complicated relationships between fathers and sons. Unsurprisingly, Noah rises to the challenge, and their voices come together beautifully. But coming off a year of promoting her most "personal" work yet, it's telling that Kelsea feels most comfortable fading into the background. [5]

Katherine St. Asaph: A surprisingly tender, nuanced lament on toxic masculinity. Both Ballerini and Kahan are credited; perhaps they're to thank for the empathy? [7]

Will Adams: A comment on the lyric video by one darrensawyer-ju9bn: "Thank you for bringing attention to the fact that men have emotions too." I genuinely cannot tell if this comment is facetious or sincere. My cynical, too-online brain wants to cast off "Cowboys Cry Too" as obvious and self-serving, but there's a little seed in there that truly believes Ballerini and Kahan pull it off. It helps that their take on toxic masculinity acknowledges the generational aspect ("I grew up wishing I could close off the way my dad did") and the woman's perspective ("when he's showing his skin... that's when he's toughest to me"). It's pretty, too, which also helps. [6]

Jonathan Bradley: “Cowboys Cry Too” would like to signpost changing expectations of masculinity, but it underestimates the terrain: country music since its inception has offered an arena in which men were permitted to be more emotional and more sentimental than they can outside the honky tonk. Cowboys are complex: as well as weepers, they are creatures mommas should not want their sons to grow up to become, but they’re also frequently secretly fond of each other. Noah Kahan is not a cowboy or a country artist, but his folk ballads offer something like a Vermont corollary to the genre’s implicit Southernness. Kahan can’t deliver a melody as expertly as Ballerini, who here attempts empathy but ends up sounding stunted (boys have feelings -- who knew?), but his first-person narrative of fathers and burning “too many miles trying to ride out the sadness” paints a more nuanced portrait. But there’s also the ghost of Reba McEntire; if cowboys cry, Brooks and Dunn told us cowgirls don’t, and using that song’s motifs puts into relief how emotionally austere this one is. There’s too much Yankee stoicism here and not enough tears. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: I'm okay with country music existing in this imaginary space where everyone's either a cowboy or cowgirl, regardless of their suburb or exurb of origin. But when used in a song title like this, and especially when paired with "I never knew," the effect is rather infantilizing, like your therapist giving you advice from a Pixar movie. However, Ballerini's decision to buck the Western imagery and reach all the way to Vermont for a duet partner was improbably the correct one. If Noah Kahan has any misgivings about being typecast as a weepy folk balladeer, he doesn't show them here, as he pins down the kitschy platitudes into a more concrete narrative about fatherhood and fears of abandonment. Notably, though, he doesn't make any reference to rural life in his lyrics, suggesting that he too might be quietly ashamed of working under this banner. A good illustration of a case where keeping one's feelings bottled up really is the best option. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Alysa Vanderheym once co-wrote a song called "Talk You Out of It" for Florida Georgia Line. Hence why, when she got to be part of a good song, she went hard in the paint with the steel guitar. [9]

Ian Mathers: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn Kelsea and Noah's overpriced-sounding milquetoast pop country song and turn its Jukebox score into the 4th of Shit [4]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Give me my "Dawns" back. [3]

Alfred Soto: The fusty tropes don't smother Kelsea Ballerini's lack of affect; she knows how to weigh her feelings by sticking to the script. Noah Kahan isn't there yet, but in a fictional world where a song about cowboys a-weepin' enters the Hot Country Airplay top five his pathos is a glass of fresh iced tea.  [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[inbarfink]

List of which songs are included on each Polka under the cut

Polkas on 45: "Jocko Homo" by Devo, "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple, "Sex (I'm a …)" by Berlin, "Hey Jude" by The Beatles, "L.A. Woman" by the Doors, "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly, "Hey Joe" by Jimi Hendrix, "Burning Down the House" by Talking Heads, "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner, "Every Breath You Take" by The Police, "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by the Clash, "Jumpin' Jack Flash" by the Rolling Stones, "My Generation" by the Who

Hooked on Polkas: "Twelfth Street Rag" by Euday L. Bowman, "State of Shock" by The Jacksons and Mick Jagger, "Sharp Dressed Man" by ZZ Top, "What's Love Got to Do with It" by Tina Turner, "Method of Modern Love" by Hall & Oates, "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes, "We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister, "99 Luftballons" by Nena, "Footloose" by Kenny Loggins, "The Reflex" by Duran Duran, "Bang Your Head (Metal Health)" by Quiet Riot, "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood

Polka Party!: "Sledgehammer" by Peter Gabriel, "Sussudio" by Phil Collins, "Party All the Time" by Eddie Murphy, "Say You, Say Me" by Lionel Richie, "Freeway of Love" by Aretha Franklin, "What You Need" by INXS, "Harlem Shuffle" by The Rolling Stones, "Venus" by Bananarama, "Nasty" by Janet Jackson, "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco, "Shout" by Tears for Fears, "Papa Don't Preach" by Madonna

The Hot Rocks Polka: "It's Only Rock 'n Roll (But I Like It)", "Brown Sugar", "You Can't Always Get What You Want", "Honky Tonk Women", "Under My Thumb", "Ruby Tuesday", "Miss You", "Sympathy for the Devil", "Get Off of My Cloud", "Shattered", "Let's Spend the Night Together", "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" - all by The Rolling Stones

Polka Your Eyes Out: "Cradle of Love" by Billy Idol, "Tom's Diner" by DNA featuring Suzanne Vega, "Love Shack" by the B-52's, "Pump Up the Jam" by Technotronic, "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M., "Unbelievable" by EMF, "Do Me!" by Bell Biv DeVoe, "Enter Sandman" by Metallica, "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground, "Cherry Pie" by Warrant, "Miss You Much" by Janet Jackson, "I Touch Myself" by Divinyls, "Dr. Feelgood" by Mötley Crüe, "Ice Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice

Bohemian Polka: "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen

The Alternative Polka: "Loser" by Beck, "Sex Type Thing" by Stone Temple Pilots, "All I Wanna Do" by Sheryl Crow, "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails, "Bang and Blame" by R.E.M., "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morissette, "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by The Smashing Pumpkins, "My Friends" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "I'll Stick Around" by Foo Fighters, "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden, "Basket Case" by Green Day

Polka Power!: "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls, "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger, "Ghetto Supastar (That Is What You Are)" by Pras featuring Ol' Dirty Bastard and Mýa, "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" by the Backstreet Boys, "Walkin' on the Sun" by Smash Mouth, "Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys, "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba, "Ray of Light" by Madonna, "Push" by Matchbox Twenty, "Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind, "The Dope Show" by Marilyn Manson, "MMMBop" by Hanson, "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground, "Closing Time" by Semisonic

Angry White Boy Polka: "Last Resort" by Papa Roach, "Chop Suey!" by System of a Down, "Get Free" by The Vines, "Hate to Say I Told You So" by The Hives, "Fell in Love with a Girl" by The White Stripes, "Last Nite" by The Strokes, "Down with the Sickness" by Disturbed, "Renegades of Funk" by Rage Against the Machine, "My Way" by Limp Bizkit, "Outside" by Staind, "Bawitdaba" by Kid Rock, "Youth of the Nation" by P.O.D., "The Real Slim Shady" by Eminem

Polkarama!: "Chicken Dance" by Werner Thomas, "Let's Get It Started" by Black Eyed Peas, "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand, "Beverly Hills" by Weezer, "Speed of Sound" by Coldplay, "Float On" by Modest Mouse, "Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz featuring De La Soul, "Don't Cha" by The Pussycat Dolls featuring Busta Rhymes, "Somebody Told Me" by The Killers, "Slither" by Velvet Revolver, "Candy Shop" by 50 Cent featuring Olivia, "Drop It Like It's Hot" by Snoop Dogg featuring Pharrell Williams, "Pon de Replay" by Rihanna, "Gold Digger" by Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx

Polka Face: "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga, "Womanizer" by Britney Spears, "Right Round" by Flo Rida ft. Kesha, "Day 'n' Nite" by Kid Cudi, "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum, "Baby" by Justin Bieber ft. Ludacris, "So What" by Pink, "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry, "Fireflies" by Owl City, "Blame It" by Jamie Foxx ft. T-Pain, "Replay" by Iyaz, "Down" by Jay Sean ft. Lil Wayne, "Break Your Heart" by Taio Cruz ft. Ludacris, "Tik Tok" by Kesha

NOW That's What I Call Polka!: "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus, "Pumped Up Kicks" by Foster the People, "Best Song Ever" by One Direction, "Gangnam Style" by Psy, "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen, "Scream & Shout" by will.i.am feat. Britney Spears, "Somebody That I Used to Know" by Gotye feat. Kimbra, "Timber" by Pitbull feat. Kesha, "Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO, "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Wanz, "Get Lucky" by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams

[haha-mania]

Making Honky Laugh

Fandom - WWF/WWE

Pairing - Lee!Honky Tonk Man X Ler!Jimmy Hart

It was a Saturday night, and all of the wrestlers had just finished their matches. Some of them headed to their homes while a few others went to the lounging room to hang out, chat and get a bite to eat.

On the large leather couch, there sat Honky Tonk Man, the wrestler known for his Elvis-inspired gimmick and fun dance moves. He tapped his foot on the ground as he quietly hummed a tune to himself, lost in the moment.

Suddenly, Honky’s humming got interrupted when he felt a poke to his side out of nowhere. He let out a startled yelp before whipping his head to the side. Standing before him was Jimmy Hart, the energetic manager of his fellow wrestlers who happened to be a master of pranks. He was known to randomly tickle the wrestlers a lot whenever he got the chance.

“Hey there, Honky Tonk!” Jimmy said with a smirk, his voice full of amusement. Honky glared at him with an annoyed look. “Jimmy, ya son of a gun!” he added, which only caused the manager to chuckle.

“Don’t be such a grump, Honk.” Jimmy replied, earning an eye roll from the wrestler.

Jimmy suddenly reached out and gave a quick poke to Honky’s belly, making him yelp and nearly jump out of his spot on the couch. “Ack!! Jimmy, quit that!”

“Ooh, I think I just found your spot!” Jimmy said, smiling. He hopped onto the couch next to Honky, using one arm to hold him in place. His other hand started to target Honky’s stomach, tickling, squeezing, and poking at whatever spot he could get to.

“WHAAHAHAHA!! JIMMY, NOT THERE!! NAHAHAT THE BEHEHELLY!!l” Honky shouted, squirming wildly as Jimmy continued to torment him with his tickling skills. “Aww, what’s wrong, can’t handle a little tickle? Coochie coochie coo~!” Jimmy teased, making Honky’s face go red with embarrassment. “SHUHUHUT YOUR MOUTH!!”

The sound of Jimmy and Honky’s wild antics got so loud that it eventually caught the attention of all the other wrestlers hanging around in the lounge. They all stared at the duo, some confused and some finding it amusing.

Andre the Giant, with his massive frame towering over the other wrestlers, chuckled heartily to himself. Even the Undertaker cracked a rare smile at the sight.

"What the hell is going on?" asked Iron Sheik, his thick Persian accent laced with amusement. “Jimmy’s tickling Honky Tonk” replied Tito Santana, his eyes twinkling. "Looks like Honk's lost his toughness”

After a few more minutes of tickling, Jimmy finally let Honky go, leaving him panting with tears staining his cheeks. “That was so not cool! i WILL be getting you back for this!” Honky barked. Jimmy shrugged off Honky's threat with a grin. "I'll be waiting!" he replied.

Despite his annoyance, Honky secretly enjoyed the random tickle attacks from the manager. He was a good friend of his after all, and couldn’t stay mad forever.

[giandee]

The El Paso Riot

In the hills of West Virginia, young Hasil Adkins was growing up dirt-poor, his mind filled with the sounds of Hank Williams and the burgeoning rock 'n' roll movement. He picked up a guitar and started banging out primitive tunes, not caring a lick about technique or finesse. For Hasil, it was all about the raw, unbridled energy. He cut his teeth playing in local honky-tonks, his wild-eyed performances and bizarre lyrics about "the Hunch" and peanut butter on the moon earning him a reputation as a true madman of rock. Hasil's recordings, crude and frenzied, found their way onto a few small labels, but mainstream success eluded him. Undeterred, he kept right on playing, pouring his heart and soul into every manic performance.

Meanwhile, down in Lubbock, Texas, Norman Carl Odam was channeling his own brand of crazy. Born in 1947, Odam grew up shy and eccentric, his unique vocal style and penchant for public performance setting him apart from the crowd. He taught himself to play a slew of instruments and began crafting a persona that would come to be known as "The Legendary Stardust Cowboy." Odam's antics - playing on the roof of his car, crashing parties, and belting out his wild tunes - earned him a mix of admiration and scorn in his hometown. He set out for California with dreams of making it big, but found no takers. Undaunted, he returned to Lubbock, working odd jobs by day and tearing up the honky-tonks by night.

In 1968, inspired by Tiny Tim's appearance on The Tonight Show, Odam made a fateful decision. He pointed his car towards New York City, determined to make his own mark. But fate intervened in Fort Worth, where a chance encounter with two vacuum cleaner salesmen led to Odam's first recording session. With T-Bone Burnett at the controls, "The Legendary Stardust Cowboy" cut his debut single, "Paralyzed." The stars seemed to align when Mercury Records picked up the single for national distribution. "Paralyzed" even scraped the lower reaches of the Billboard charts, and Odam found himself on Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In. But the laughter from the studio audience was more derisive than appreciative, and a musicians' union strike cut short Odam's television moment in the sun.

As the '70s dawned, both Hasil and Odam found themselves adrift, their dreams of stardom fading like a desert mirage. Hasil kept recording, his songs growing more unhinged by the year, while Odam bounced from label to label, his eccentricities and unwillingness to compromise keeping him forever on the fringes.

But in that fateful year of 1975, in a dusty El Paso record shop, two shooting stars collided. Hasil and Odam, kindred spirits in the realm of the bizarre, hatched a plan to stage a concert unlike any the world had ever seen. They sweet-talked a local radio station into sponsoring the event and rented out a rodeo stadium, ready to unleash their combined madness upon an unsuspecting crowd.

Their first stop was a dingy bar on the outskirts of town, where they stumbled upon a five-piece cover band tearing through a set of classic rock standards. Hasil and Odam, never ones to miss an opportunity, sidled up to the band during their break. "Boys," Hasil drawled, his eyes gleaming with manic intensity, "we've got a proposition for you. A chance to be part of something big, something that'll go down in the history books." The band, a ragtag bunch of long-haired dreamers, looked at each other skeptically. But when Odam pulled out a wad of cash and started talking numbers, their eyes widened. "We're gonna rent out the biggest venue in town," Odam proclaimed, his voice rising with each word. "And you boys are gonna be our backup band. We'll pay you more money than you've ever seen in your lives. Just get some country western outfits. We are the Everly Brothers, after all." The band, stunned by the offer and the sheer audacity of these two strange men, hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. They were in, come hell or high water.

Next, Hasil and Odam tracked down T-Bone Burnett, the legendary producer and sound man. Burnett, intrigued by the sheer madness of their plan, signed on to handle the sound for the show.

The night of the concert arrived, and the venue was packed to the rafters. A strange electricity crackled through the air as Hasil and Odam took the stage, backed by their newfound band. They launched into a set of pure, unadulterated rock 'n' roll mayhem, their music a primal scream into the face of conformity. The crowd, a bizarre mix of cowboys, hippies, and everything in between, surged towards the stage, drawn in by the raw power emanating from the performers. They danced and thrashed, their bodies moving in a wild, chaotic rhythm.

As the night wore on, the energy in the room reached a fever pitch. The dancing turned into a frenzy of flailing limbs and gyrating hips. Beehive hairdos, carefully constructed earlier in the evening, began to unravel, hairpins flying in all directions. Makeup streamed down faces contorted in ecstasy and abandon. Fistfights broke out in the crowd, men and women grappling with each other in a strange, primal display of aggression and passion. Clothes were torn, revealing skin slick with sweat. Impromptu make-out sessions erupted in the corners of the venue, bodies intertwined in a tangle of lust and madness.

Through it all, Hasil and Odam played on, lost in their own world of sonic chaos. T-Bone Burnett, his face a mask of concentration, worked the soundboard like a mad scientist, coaxing unholy sounds from the speakers as the seven on stage found a strange synergy. As the show reached its climax, the crowd finally boiled over. The line between audience and performer blurred, and soon the stage was overrun with a mass of humanity, all moving to the same wild, pulsing beat.

The authorities, called in to quell the riot, could only stand back and watch in amazement as El Paso tore itself apart in a frenzy of rockabilly delirium. No cameras captured the madness of that night, for no one wanted to remember the time when the city lost its mind.

In the aftermath, as the sun rose over the devastation, Hasil and Odam slipped away, their mission accomplished. They had touched something primal, something dangerous, and the world would never be the same. The band, shell-shocked and exhausted, counted their money and went their separate ways, each knowing that they had been part of something truly extraordinary and inappropriate. And T-Bone Burnett, his ears still ringing from the unholy cacophony, smiled to himself, knowing that he had borne witness to a moment of pure, unbridled rockabilly history.

In the years that followed, whispers of that night would spread through the music underground, a legend passed from one generation to the next. Hasil Adkins and Norman Carl Odam, the twin prophets of rock 'n' roll insanity, had left their mark on El Paso, and the city would never forget nor speak of the night it went insane.

[tarlossource]

9-1-1: Lone Star cast preview Carlos and TK's wedding in the season 4 finale: 'It felt like love'

Rafael Silva and Ronen Rubinstein preview the Tarlos ceremony fans have been waiting for. But don't forget that "tragedy" also awaits.

Here come the grooms!

After four seasons of romance, comas, and lost lizards, Ronen Rubinstein's TK and Rafael Silva's Carlos are finally heading down the aisle in the season 4 finale of 9-1-1: Lone Star.

While co-creator and showrunner Tim Minear has promised "tragedy will strike" during the two-hour finale event on Tuesday, the Tarlos actors say filming the actual ceremony was "all love."

"It feels like mission accomplished, quite frankly," Silva tells EW of shooting the wedding. "We've been working towards this moment for so long — so being here, it feels like we've earned this moment. I think both Ronan and I earned this moment, and I think TK and Carlos. This is not an easy show to make so to be here, it feels like a victory for these two characters. It felt like bliss, it felt like joy, and it felt like love."

As evidenced in the 10 exclusive photos from the wedding that EW debuted Friday morning, the celebration brings together all the regular cast as well as many recurring guest stars, such as Marjan's (Natacha Karam) new boyfriend, Paul (Karam's real-life boyfriend John Clarence Stewart); Paul's (Brian Michael Smith) girlfriend, Asha (Amanda Payton); Tommy's new love, Pastor Trevor (DB Woodside); Owen's (Rob Lowe) newly discovered half-brother, Robert (Chad Lowe), and new girlfriend, Kendra (Vampire Diaries and YOU's Michaela McManus); and even Carlos's new ex-wife, Iris (Lydnsy Fonseca).

"Everyone was truly present in the moment — and I mean, obviously, that's basically our job, but I think it also caught everyone off guard how much it would mean to have the entire cast there," Silva says. "People that we never get to see, so it felt like a community coming together to celebrate this very special moment and everyone felt it through their tears, through their laughs, and through our togetherness."

"I think it's incredible to look back and it all started with asking for a dance partner at a honky-tonk and look at us now, we're dancing our way into marriage," adds Rubinstein, who marvels when he reflects on the journey that Carlos and TK — but also the entire Lone Star cast — have been on over the past four seasons. "To go through everything that we've went through the last four years: still being able to work through COVID, still being able to entertain people and inspire people, and it all leads to this just super epic ... finale. It feels like a blockbuster film and for the central focus of that to be the Tarlos wedding, it's just really special and surreal and I just feel a lot of gratitude."

[gts350]

TELL TH PEOPLE ABOUT MOONSHINE MADNESS

SMILES DEMENTEDLY YES BOSS

In 1992, the small Louisiana town of Copperhead is about to get turned upside down when local nuisance and general menace turned murderer Milo Guidry goes on a bloody boozing, cruising and killing spree with the help of his bar manager boyfriend and amateur mechanic Lonnie Richard. One accidental night of bloodshed in an out of town honky tonk bar devolves into a months long spree of Milo scanning local bars, diners and motels for potential "prey". All while family friend and town sheriff Pickens & his coroner nephew Slim scramble to figure out what or who is mutilating these bar flies.

Soon enough Milo gets sloppy and Lonnie's "fool proof" alibi starts to unravel, the Guidry family starts to get suspicious and as the radius of these brutal killings shrinks, the whole drama damn near tears the once peaceful town of Copperhead apart- literally! 🔨🌾🩸⚰️🍻⛓️

MILO by day a troublemaking but laid back redneck with a deep love for his family and dark secret doing odd jobs around town and his family's property (a former 'shine brewery) but by night a brutal boozin' killer with fast growing bloodlust.

and his bf LONNIE a ragin' cajun hotrodder and manager at Ricky's Honky Tonk Grill, a local watering hole that Milo and his brothers frequent. Lonnie has some questionable connections that allows this mess to carry on uninterrupted for far too long.

Not pictured is Slim, Milo's cousin Joey and the rest of his clueless, loving white trash family. Mother Loretta, father Michael and brothers Hank & Waylon!

PLAYLIST - PINTEREST BOARD - TOYHOUSE

[dustedmagazine]

Camera Obscura — Look to the East, Look to the West (Merge)

Photo by Robert Perry

A plangent guitar, a shuffle of drums and then the voice. The crystalline clarity slightly weathered and more lovely for it. After the 2015 death of keyboard player Carey Lander, Traceyanne Campbell and Camera Obscura took an extended break before reconvening for some live shows in 2019. On Look to the East, Look to the West, their first album since 2013, Campbell’s voice and her ear for melody remain undiminished. As does her ability to write and sing lines that take your breath away, make you well up or smile, the eye for a telling detail that encapsulates everything about a person or situation. Joined by guitarist Kenny McKeeve, bassist Gavin Dunbar, drummer Lee Thomson and new keyboard player Donna Maciocia, Campbell dissects love, loss, and heartbreak with elegant candor.

That opening track “Liberty Print” tells the story of the classic bad boy now passed. The humor is gentle and self-directed playing on the band’s twee image —  “then you’ll see I like Liberty Print/Is that shallow of me?”  The song fills out and the tempo quickens as Campbell builds the narrative of regret for lost love. Her denouement is devastating in its simplicity “I had to visit your mother/You were her only son/I went to visit your mother/You were her only son.” The band eschews the perky jangle of their previous albums for a country soul feel. Guest pedal steel guitarist Tim Davidson echoes Campbell’s Patsy Cline crying notes over Thomson’s brushed snare railroad rhythm and Maciocia’s almost honky-tonk piano on “The Light Nights.” On “Big Love” McKeeve lays down a wandering Nashville riff as Campbell describes a watching a friend’s tortured relationship (“We watched you swoon/As she peacocked the room”) before switching perspective with the repeated closing line “Just let your hand slip down, imagine I’m there now” over Hammond organ and harmonizing sighs. The loveliest moments come during “Sugar Almond” in which Campbell memorializes Lander. Maciocia provides minor key accompaniment as Campbell remembers her friend -  “I was always such fan of your rabbity eyes/Sugar-coated almonds as grey as Glasgow skies”  and sings her loss with “I’ll match Bette Davis drink for drink/I’ll cry like Tiny Tears over your favorite pink/I’ve had the worst thoughts I could ever think/Won’t you sing to me, Carey”

Camera Obscura’s comeback album is a thing of real beauty. Campbell writes movingly about memory and friendship. Looking at what was rather than regretting what might have been with an honesty that goes directly to the heart of things. Look to the East, Look to the West is one of the most poignant albums of the year so far.

Andrew Forell