#lemme see that horsey ��

[jkgnggj]

Hey hey beastie do you wanna see my horse painting :DD

Sureeee :D)

[angeltannis]

There’s a cute girl who has to come into work all the time for checkups after surgery and today she caught me doodling and she went “Ooh, whatcha drawing?” and I was caught so off-guard that the only thing I could think to say was “hh . Horseys”

I said horseys

[tinycoffeeroom]

birds of a feather | daniel ricciardo

face claim: N/A ♡

request: here !

pairing: daniel ricciardo x british!reader

cw: mentions of chr*stian horner, singapore gp 2024

a/n: sorry for the long hiatus but i just had to come back and make something for danny. i've loved that man since i got into f1 and the idea that i won't see him on track anymore hurts so deeply. thank you for the memories honey badger, you will always have a place here on tinycoffeeroom <3

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Hi baby.

Hi love.

You sound exhausted, did you not sleep well last night?

Not really, I've been trying to go over strategies with the team, but nothing seems to be working. There's no way I'm getting in the points this week.

I'm sorry Danny, I know how much you've been working on this...

Have you asked them about that power unit thingy you were talking about?

Yeah... they don't have the time to test it and add it in before this race or even COTA.

What about the new rear wing?

Well...

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Anyway, enough about this shit show. How are you, darling? I miss you.

I miss you too, pretty boy. It sucks that this conference overlaps the race, I wish I was there so bad. Just wanna hug you.

Me too, y/n. Me too. I'm coming back as soon as the race is over. At least we have 4 weeks before the next one. Did you manage to book time off?

I did! 2 whole weeks to follow you across the globe watching you strut your stuff! Hopefully we can get Horsey back for the memories.

Blake's been emailing the owner, so hopefully Horsey will make a reappearance. (LAUGHS)

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Oh wait, Helmut's calling me, I'll call you back babe.

Ok! Lemme know what he says!

Always do. Love you.

Love you too pretty boy.

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It had been a last minute decision, choosing to fly out to Singapore. You knew Daniel would never put his own needs above yours, and while the conference was important for your career, he was important to you too.

It had been easy getting everything sorted. By the time you were texting Blake about flying over, he had already sent you a message, a simple "you know?".

A quick email to your boss, a semi lie spun about a family emergency, and a whirlwind of packing bags later, you found yourself sitting in Heathrow.

Your fingers twitched nervously as you checked the time differences between England and Singapore, double checking Daniel wouldn't find it strange if you didn't respond to his texts for the next 13 hours.

Your flight left at 8PM Singapore time, that gave you at least 10 hours before he would wake up for the race.

Blake had sneakily upgraded your tickets to first class so you could sleep comfortably on the flight and be ready to go straight into race day, or night, when you landed.

Tapping your phone awake, you smile at the lock screen staring back at you.

You and Daniel had gone away with a few other couples from the grid, a well needed break from the stress of Formula 1. In the midst of a late night beach walk with Charles and Alex, Daniel had grabbed your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder.

Your shrieks of laughter had drawn some weird looks from those around you, but neither of you cared. You'd clawed your way back, legs settling tightly around Daniel's waist as his arms wrapped tightly around yours.

You didn't even notice the flash of Alex's phone, too enthralled in the wide smile encapsulating the man holding you, all teeth and gums and happiness dripping from him like sweet honey. A quick peck to the bridge of his nose and then the corner of his mouth was enough for him to lower you gently to the ground, arms still encompassing you tightly. 

The sound of Charles fake gagging beside you finally pulled the two of you out of the lovesick stupor you'd been caught in, eyes roaming the shadows cast across your lover's face from the fading sunset. 

When Alex had texted you the photo once you were back in the hotel room, limbs wrapped around one another in the cool, air conditioned room, you'd chuckled lightly, drawing Daniel's attention. 

"What's so funny?" The hand gripping your thigh draped lazily across his lap squeezed once, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly. 

Turning the phone to face him, you watched his eyes light up, that same dazzling smile spreading as he took in the photo. 

"Send that to me."

You hummed in response, airdropping the photo to him as he pulled your thigh higher up his lap. As he leaned forward, lips searching for yours under the dim lamp light, you quickly set the photo as your lock screen, no doubt in your mind that Daniel would soon do the same. 

A tannoy drags you back to the present. 

"All passengers for flight SIA324, please make your way to the gate. Boarding will begin in 15 minutes."

Typing out a quick goodnight message to Daniel, you pocket your phone, sighing as you make your way towards what could be the last time you see Daniel in a Formula 1 car.

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ynstagram uploaded three stories to their close friends

replies:

lilymhe 💔 if i knew you were coming to singapore, i would have come too! ↳ ynstagram was a last minute decision sorry babe xx ↳ lilymhe ... don't tell me ↳ ynstagram 🙃

maxverstappen1 how did you get time off?? i thought you were super busy with work ↳ ynstagram claimed a family emergency, even if danny doesn't want me here, i needed to come ↳ maxverstappen1 he needs you y/n, more than i think even he knows

landonorris does dan know you're coming? ↳ ynstagram nope, blocked him from my close friends for a bit ↳ landonorris sneaky, i like it ↳ landonorris see you soon y/n, glad you'll be here :)

iamrebeccad you're coming to the gp??? come to ferrari hospitality if you can!!!! alex misses you 🥺 ↳ ynstagram don't think i'll be leaving vcarb this weekend, we can meet up for brunch soon though 🩷 ↳ iamrebeccad oh... yeah sure, just let me know 💜

blakefriend hope you got to the hotel alright, me and dan are out for his training session, did you get the keycard ok? ↳ ynstagram i did, and the paddock passes. thanks for this blake, i know with everything going on, last minute admin is the last thing you need ↳ blakefriend if it means dan can have some sense of calm in this mess, i'd do it 10 times over ↳ blakefriend we'll be back at 1pm, see you in a few hours ↳ ynstagram 🫡 see you then

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Getting from the airport to the hotel had been easy enough. Piling the bags you had brought from Monaco to London and now to Singapore onto the only trolley remaining, you make your way down to the Arrivals.

Stepping through the automatic doors, your eyes dart between the people around you. Families reuniting with bright laughter and happy tears, lovers sharing intimate kisses under the harsh airport lights. Businessmen already glued to the phone in their hands as they weave through bodies with ease, their bodies twisting and turning like a well rehearsed waltz.

A man in a black suit jacket and oversized chauffeur hat catches your eye, his eyes following your figure as you try to move around the other passengers. You glance down at the large piece of paper held just above his waist. 

“Y/N L/N” is scrawled in large black letters across the paper, chicken scratch that looks very much like Blake’s.

Making your way over, the man tips the edge of his chauffeur hat slightly, reaching a hand out to shake yours. 

You want to apologise for the clamminess of your palms as you accept his welcome, but before you can speak, he’s reaching across to take the trolley from you, his head tilting briefly in the opposite direction.

You follow behind him, feet double stepping to keep up as he expertly navigates the sprawling grounds of Singapore Airport. 

By the time you reach the car out front, a sheen of sweat covers your upper lip and you cringe, feeling your t-shirt slowly cling to your back. 

The man opens the boot, then the back door and ushers you in. The cold air conditioning feels like a welcome home kiss, brushing away the humidity that clings to your skin from the small journey between the airport and the car. By the time the man sits in the driver's seat, your eyes are slipping closed, head lolling against the headrest behind you. 

You didn’t mean to sleep for the entire car journey, but you’d barely been able to rest for more than 20 minutes on the flight, opting instead to cycle through nonsense films to play in the background as the thoughts in your mind waged a war on your emotions. 

It had been a tense 13 hours, trying to work out what had happened on that phone call between Daniel and Helmut. You knew there were talks of him not extending his contract, but leaving mid season?

Your Danny? The self proclaimed and well known Honey Badger, king of late braking and divebombing his grid mates. You’d been with him since the Red Bull days, and even if he wasn’t winning podiums, or even points sometimes, you thought there would be more of an uproar about this from him. 

This wasn’t the same man you’d watch nearly fight a waiter because he refused to bring you a new meal after they’d brought out a completely different dish, the same man who left everything on the tarmac and often dragged you to his trailer post race interviews for a well deserved nap. 

His texts had been despondent, almost like he believed this was the goodbye he deserved. 

That’s the part you couldn’t move past. The idea that he was going to finish his last race without the flair of Daniel Ricciardo, no doughnuts, no grid walk, no party to celebrate the last 13 years. 

After the McLaren debacle, you understood why he chose to fly under the radar. With COVID and the situation with Oscar, he’d been more than willing to slip away peacefully but this was different. 

This was Red Bull. Or the subsidiary at least. The team he’d spent the longest time in Formula 1 with. The team who took him in as a junior, that he’d won 7 Grand Prix’s with, scored well over 1000 points racing for. 

You would have thought that they would have wanted to give him a goodbye worthy of what he had brought to the team.

By the time the chauffeur shakes you gently awake, your mind is no clearer but one thing is for sure. Daniel will not face this storm alone.

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The time of Daniel getting back from his workout was looming slowly. Since entering the hotel room, you’d hopped in the shower, scrubbing the aeroplane smell from you. The suitcases were lined up against the wall and you were currently lazing on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok. Every so often, you’d flick to the notification screen, just in case Blake’s incoming text had somehow slipped past without you catching it. 

Your eyes flutter slowly closed, maybe a 10 minute nap wouldn’t hurt. Before you can lock your phone and settle into the plush pillows, a notification pings through. Eyes darting open, you catch the banner notification before it slides up. 

They were in the lobby. 

“Fuckin’ hell Blake.” Scrambling up from the bed, you round the corner and make sure there is no sign of you in the living room section. Your shoes are tucked away in the bottom of the closet, jacket strewn across the chair in the corner of the bedroom. 

The telltale ring of a keycard being swiped rings through the air and you slide to hide behind the wall, heart thumping against your chest. Doubt begins to swirl through your mind. What are you even doing here? What if he didn’t invite any of his family or friends because he didn’t want them to see him go out like this? Would he want you to? 

Loud voices echo through the hallway, Aussie slang thrown about but you focus on the one thick with a Perth twang. 

Your Danny. 

“Mate, I’m just gonna go point Percy at the porcelain.” Blake’s voice grows louder as he walks through to the bedroom. He locks eyes with you, giving you a quick one armed hug as you exchange quiet greetings. 

Once enough time has passed, he gestures with a finger to his lips to be quiet, head popping around the corner to Daniel. 

“Did you bring Y/N’s jacket with you by mistake?”

A confused “No” comes from the living room before Blake leans across you, grabbing the clothing from the chair. He holds it aloft, in Daniel’s line of sight. 

“No idea what that’s doing here, mate. You know I always bring a t-shirt of Y/N’s which should be under the pillow.”

Your heart swells at the statement, you had no idea he’d sneak something of yours with him whenever you couldn’t attend races. The earlier doubts dissipate, you knew right here, with Daniel, was where you were supposed to be. 

“Strange… oh! I know what’s happened.” Blake shoots you a grin before wrapping a hand around your arm, pulling you into the doorway. 

Smiling softly at Daniel, you huff lightly at the way his eyes widen almost comically as he takes you in. Silence spreads through the room, the two of you locked in intense eye contact as Blake slowly moves aside to let you reunite. 

“Hello, my love.”

Daniel’s bottom lip wobbles slightly and before you can process it, he’s launched across the room, almost body slamming you with the force he runs at you with. Arms latch tightly around your waist, his head tucked tightly into your neck, trembling lips resting against your pulse point. 

“What, I, how?” The words are muffled against your skin, the edges of them tear soaked as the collar of your t-shirt dampens to match. 

Carding your hand through his still sweaty curls, you scratch lightly against his scalp. “As soon as you told me, Blake texted me. He booked me on the next flight.”

Daniel’s head pops out from his hiding place, all three of you ignoring the tears smattering his cheeks. He looks across to Blake, who simply shrugs his shoulders, reaching down to grab his gym bag. 

“You needed them, and they needed you. It was a no brainer. Also, don’t get sappy with me, I charged the flight to your business card.” A chuckle follows and he claps Daniel on the back once, nodding in your direction before heading out the front door, the sound of it closing echoing slightly. 

Daniel’s eyes track from the closing door back to you, wide in wonderment. “But your conference?”

Shrugging, you lean forward to press a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Called in a family emergency. There’s no way I was letting you go through this alone.” You lift your hand up to his face, tracing a path across the same cheek you’d just kissed. “I know your parents or your friends can't be here, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to deal with everything going on with no kind of support. I know Blake’s here but-”

You’re cut off by his lips covering yours, desperation seeping through as the words die on your tongue. The taste of salt blooms, the tears still dripping slowly from his eyes. Yours join in quick succession. A rushed “I love you” slips from your mouth the moment you part, his own coming straight after. 

The slide of his lips against your own turns molasses slow, the cooled sweat on both of you soon making way for its heated counterpart as you gravitate closer to one another. Warm hands sneak under your t-shirt, the palms cupping the swell of your hips as Daniel whispers words of gratitude through stolen breaths. Your own hands rest against his neck, nails creating slight grooves under the pressure. 

Knowing what will come tomorrow, you take in this moment, second by second. The feel of his sweat slick skin under your palms, the slight stubble on his jaw scratching at your chin, the way his heart beats erratically in his chest pressed close to yours. 

Every part of this Daniel you memorise, capturing each memory in a gold plated frame. You store them away in the evergrowing gallery of your brain dedicated to the man before you, seal them under lock and key for your eyes only. 

You always knew that one day, you’d share them with him. When all the racing was over and the two of you had the house with the white picket fence, or more aptly, the farm with the white picket fence. You’d dissect every moment of him you stored away, stacked one by one for safekeeping. From the moment the two of you met in that busy London street, every grand prix win, every high followed by every low. Just in case he began to forget the man he was, the man he would still be. 

You just didn’t realise that day would be coming so soon. 

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ynstagram danielricciardo

[caption 2: gorgeous boy xx]

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After the race, you’d left Daniel to his own devices. You knew he would want to spend his time wandering around the track, soaking in every moment of what could be his last ever race. 

Grabbing a ride back with Blake, the two of you stick to small talk, neither able to formulate the words you truly wanted to say. 

He’d given you a brief goodbye in the lobby, arms wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before the two of you separated, him taking the stairs and you choosing to ride in the elevator. 

Shuffling through the front door, you kick your shoes off, nudging them next to the other pairs in the entryway. On the way up, you’d sent Daniel a quick text to let you know when he was on his way back. 

Expecting him to respond around midnight, you slowly work through your nighttime routine, opting to wear one of his shirts to bed instead of the pyjamas you’d neatly packed. 

Slipping into bed, you unlock your phone, squinting at the brightness. Still no messages from Daniel, the 1:27am at the top of your phone making you sigh deeply. Reaching over, you plug your phone onto charge before starting up a well loved podcast, choosing an episode you could probably quote from memory with how often you relistened to it. 

As the dulcet voices fall away to background noise, you settle in for the night, head half shoved into the pillow beside you, Daniel’s scent still lingering from this morning.

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Blearily opening your eyes as the other side of the bed dips lightly, you quickly tap your phone to see the time. A bold 3:57am blinks back at you briefly before the screen goes dark once more. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry babe.” Daniel’s voice whispers in the darkness, hand winding its way around your waist to pull you back to his chest. 

Resting your hand over his, fingers interlocking in the open spaces, you squeeze twice. “s’ok, wanted to see you when you got back anyway.”

Silence follows and before you can roll over to look at Daniel, his face presses into the centre of your shoulder blades, the skin warm through the fabric of the shirt.

“Danny?”

He stays quiet, the hand on your waist gripping tighter. You can hear the way his breath starts to shake on the inhale, the tears from his eyes slowly dampening the back of his shirt currently wrapped around you. 

“Danny, lemme see you.” A shake of his head rustles the shirt. “Baby, please.”

His grip on your waist loosens and you shuffle around carefully, trying to avoid shoving an elbow in his ribs and adding further insult to injury. 

You can hardly make out his face, the small amount of moonlight shining through the haphazardly closed curtains barely illuminating the curve of his cheek. It does catch the glint of his honey brown eyes, tears shimmering along his lash line. 

“Oh, my love.” Your heart breaks at the sight of the man in front of you, a shell of who you’ve come to know and love. The pressure behind your eyes builds, tears threatening to mirror Daniel’s. “C’mere.”

One hand wrapping around the back of his neck, you pull him to lay against you. He burrows in, head pressed tight into the junction between your neck and shoulder, a sombre juxtaposition to this morning. 

“This is the end. Everything I’ve worked for, over. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” His arm wraps tight around your waist once more, his leg coming to rest between yours. “I’m officially a has-been.” A wet chuckle escapes him, the noise too loud in the surrounding silence. 

You can’t stop yourself from tapping the back of his neck lightly. He knows you hate when he talks like that. “No one’s allowed to talk about the man I love like that.”

His head lifts from your neck to throw you a quick glance. “Even if it’s the man himself?”

Pulling him back to rest against your neck, you run your hands through his hair gently, twirling the longer strands around one of your fingers. “Especially if it’s the man himself. You’re not a has-been, never will be. You’re so talented in so many different ways, there will never be a time you can say you’re past your prime or whatever stupid shit is running around that gorgeous head of yours.” Your fingers tap against his scalp to drive the point home. “Even if you never step foot in one of those cars again, you’ve got your dirt biking, the wine company, Enchante, the 17 other high intensity sports you do that raise my blood pressure every time I watch. You’re smart enough to know how to adapt, and that is what you’ll do. I know it.”

“You seem very sure.” His voice comes out muffled from its spot against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. 

“That’s because I am. I was by your side during the papaya setback, I saw how you came back stronger. That’s what this situation is too, a setback. You’ll find a way through, even if I have to stand by the solution with a flashlight to guide you that way.” 

He chuckles, the edges of his voice no longer tainted with sorrow. “Can you still not say their name?”

You join his laughter, remembering the last time you’d spoken about McLaren. “Last time I mentioned that company, I got a cease and desist. Don’t think Zac was too happy with the way I was deservedly slagging them off.” Your nose wrinkles as you think back to the snottily worded email and attached letter that dropped into your inbox a few days after your last public comment about their shitty management. “So I promised to never let that name slip from my lips again.”

The room falls silent again, just for a moment. The two of you still tangled in an embrace, even as the first prickles of sweat bead against your hairline from the heat of your bodies in the warm Singapore evening. 

Daniel sighs, shuffling minutely to run a hand up and down the length of your side. “I just… I remember when I was 20. Being so excited to get into an actual F1 car, even as a tester. I remember jumping out, seeing that I was the fastest and thinking ‘this is it. This is my chance.’ I wanted to be a Red Bull driver so bad, with every part of me. To win a race, maybe even win a world championship, leave a legacy behind. And now I’ve wasted over a decade of my life with only 8 race wins to show for it. Not even a championship. What kind of legacy does that leave me?”

The sorrow creeps back into his voice, and you have to clear your throat before responding, willing the tears back once more. “A legacy doesn’t have to mean winning a world championship. Or even a race. Think about Jacky Ickx, Stirling Moss, Juan Pablo Montoya. All legends in their own right, but none of them had a world championship. If this was your last race in Formula 1, you leave behind a legacy in your own right. People will know your name for years, even decades to come. King of the late brakers, the guy who always had a smile and a kind word to say about everyone he ever met; even if they didn’t deserve it, the aptly named Honey Badger. Just because you don’t leave behind a legacy in being number 1, doesn’t mean you won’t be up there with the greats.”

Daniel hums, taking in your words, dissecting them one by one. “I’m scared. Where do I go now? Do I even try to come back? Move to a different company entirely? Retire officially and retreat to the farm? I don’t know who I am without Formula 1.”

You take a moment to think about the situation for yourself. A world where Daniel Ricciardo is no longer a Formula 1 driver. It always seemed so impossible to you, the company so deeply ingrained into his being that the very idea of him would cease to exist without it in his life. 

“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Your hand continues to card through his hair, a soothing gesture. Whether it was meant to soothe him or you, you weren’t too sure. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with advice, I’ve never had to walk in your shoes. But that doesn’t need to be something to think about right now. Enjoy some downtime, go home and spend time with your family, race dirt bikes around different parts of the world, go see Scotty and Chloe. The future is still so bright for you, Danny. And I’m just happy that I get to be beside you through it all.”

Slowly, he raises his head from its perch, bright eyes finding yours. Despite the situation, you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Teeth bitten lips find yours in the dim light, clumsy and fierce, but perfect in its own right. 

“I love you. So fucking much. From the first day we met and you shouted at me for splashing you with a puddle, I knew you were the one. Thank you for never leaving.”

You laugh aloud, remembering how you’d been late for university, umbrella thrashing in the England wind, when a bike had come up dangerously close beside you, running straight through a puddle and covering your jeans in muddy water. 

After a long rant at the rider, you’d looked up into apologetic golden eyes and high cheekbones, and immediately the anger had dissipated. “And I love you. Maybe not from the puddle moment, but you won me over nearly immediately after. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with you.”

This is the moment. The moment to open the gallery in your mind to the man in front of you. To recall each and every moment you’d captured in glossy oils and remind him of who he is, who he always has been. 

And then Daniel lays his head back down to your chest, lips pressing an appreciative kiss to the shirt underneath, warmth blossoming through the fabric to your skin below. And the moment passes. 

Pressing your head back into the pillow below, you listen to how Daniel’s breathing slows, settling down as he drifts off to sleep. The perfect moment will come back. There’s still time.

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liked by fan, fan and 982,167 others

formula1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced

see 238,816 others

fan what the fuck

fan not danny ric 💔💔

fan we just got him back😭😭😭

fan helmut marko watch your back.

user lol not surprised, we all knew he was washed ↳ fan 123.456.789.012 ↳ user did i just get doxxed?

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👤 danielricciardo liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 890,274 others

ynstagram the man of many names. danny ric, ricky bobby, honey badger and most importantly, the love of my life. i've loved you for 6 summers and i'll love you for 600 more.

in the words of our favourite musical, wherever you go i won't be far to follow. whether it's in the navy of the bulls, papaya of [REDACTED], the bee striped renault or the dazzling white of vcarb, you bring so much light and happiness everywhere you go, and i've been privileged to bask in the warmth of you.

and until the next adventure, i will always be here to remind you of the power and strength you inhabit, the souls you've breathed life into and the happiness you've brought to the sport you love (sometimes more than me) for over a decade.

always and forever, your y/n x

see 10,286 other comments

fan anyone else absolutely sobbing right now?? ↳ fan as if his post wasn't enough to make me bawl, ofc y/n drops this

fan to have a love like y/n and danny...

fan not y/n censoring mclaren, they hate that damn team so much ♥️ ynstagram

danielricciardo my darling, i love you, always and forever ❤️ ↳ ynstagram so excited for our future, whatever it holds ❤️

landonorris thanks y/n max is crying now 👍 ↳ ynstagram 🤣 which one? ↳ maxfewtrell both ↳ maxverstappen1 both

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷 we need another double date when you're back in monaco x ↳ ynstagram do we have to bring them? ↳ danielricciardo on my own dedication post... wow ↳ ynstagram 🤷 gotta show my girl love whenever i can

fan helmut better hide, y/n doesn't play when it comes to their man ↳ fan fr don't let the sappy post fool you, ik they have a hitlist in their notes

fan him leaving before COTA is so messed up, he loves that track 😭😭😭 ↳ ynstagram wish you guys could have seen the special helmet :( ↳ fan OH HELMUT MARKO WHEN I CATCH U!!!!!!! ↳ fan special helmet... pls we need to see i BEG

lewishamilton with you by his side, the future is bright for the honey badger 🤍 ↳ ynstagram thanks lew 🩷 ↳ danielricciardo thanks man :)

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a/n: this is not proof read, so ignore any mistakes. i can't wait to see what danny does in the future, whatever it is, i'll be supporting him all the way <3

[mmmercuryy]

assigning aftg characters equestrian sports just cause

neil- probably a showjumper. I would say eventing but I don't think he has the patience for dressage or the ability to split his focus between 3 events like that. I could also see him bronc riding if we're going a western route, which I almost think he'd like better because there's a bit more adrenaline, but do we consider that an equestrian sport?

andrew- either doesn't compete at all and just does like natural horsemanship, or cutting. I could see him just sitting like he's in a goddamn armchair while cutting, absolute insane seat. or sorting, similar but also playing that sort of goalie position too.

kevin- the snottiest eventer known to man. no words needed. He's been trying to convince andrew to do dressage for years because of his insane delicate and precise movements but alas.

Renee- team roper- she loves rodeo for the community aspect and her sport should reflect that. It's offensive and sporty enough to have that competitive edge she loves, but I feel like it's more fun and goodnatured compared to other events which she would enjoy.

Jean- this bitch is dressage and he's snooty about it. He sees jumpers as ungraceful and unrefined and willing to sacrifice equitation and horsemanship to get a good score.

aaron- he's very much giving your non-horsey boyfriend, but if I had to pick, probably something chill like cutting as well. idk something that has a more useful application.

katelyn just cause i was thinking about her- barrel racing absolutely. she loves that it's a girl's sport, she would love the flashy sparkly culture of fringe and sparkles. she 100% puts glitter and rhinestones on her horse's butt and has like million pairs of braided reins. u know who i'm talking about.

dan- torn between barrel racing becuase I think she would love the speed of it, or team roping because a) she loves that it's a team sport, and b) she loves that it's a male event.

Matt- bull rider. he's just a crazy enough bastard to have fun doing it.

allison- started as a flashy barrel racer (you know her matching tack sets go crazy) but bronc rides to prove she can.

seth- bronc rider. It's a little because it's macho, but it's more because it's fun.

nicky- does not compete. He just rides for pleasure and chills at the rodeo grounds w his friends. he will run gymkhana rounds tho, and he will beat you in poles.

jeremy- does not trust horses. something about the look in their eye throws him off. jean finds it slightly amusing.

catalina- BARREL RACER HELLO.

laila- eventer

wymack- retired steer wrestler, got a horn to the rib or something and retired.

idk lemme know if i missed anyone or u disagree or if anyone needs clarification on why.

[zoinks-world]

My Top 10 Puppet History Songs

In preparation for season 6 of Puppet History I have decided to rank my personal top 10 Puppet History songs in the order of how much of a fucking banger they are and also include my personal favorite Lyrics: 

"Hatshepsut" - “And so it’s with respect that we / Remember on occasion / She kicked ass”

 “Asmodeus”- “I’ll scare the shit out of nuns, cause it's fun”

“Come on up”- “I saw the whole JFK assassinnation and I know exactly who did it, I can't tell you who but I can tell ya, they DID that. Anyway let's get back on track with some scatting”

“It's the End of History ''- “Cuz there's no stopping what's to come, some shits sketched into the stars calamity's you can't outrun.” 

 "Gore On The Shore" - Now this samurai’s cuttin me/you down to size / We must be denser than wood to not realize”

 "Clip Clop Into The Light"- “I hope my wife died too, so I can see her soon And smooch her spooky horse-ghost lips, And stare into her gorgeous fucked-up oblong horsey pupils As we drift into the vast abyss”

"Pieces of Me"- “And who knows, Gust a wind could blow on by, Lift that pile on upward, Lemme see that pale blue sky”

“You Got the Pox!”- “And You’ll probably die but hey on the bright side, you got a couple new friends who’ll be with you ‘till the end scabs-n-pus” 

"French Heads"- “ French HEADS, season ‘em lightly, A bordelaise for Claire, a pinch of pepper on Pierre”

 “Stool of Gold”- “A stool of gold A stool-stool of gold” 

Special Mentions:

"Snitch On The Rich"- “As discussed You mustn't trust that upper crust Toss their asses on the menu 'Cause it's time to EAT”

"I Spew Goo '' - “And, look, I hate to do this, Just gonna bury yr town rq :( But spewin’ goo’s my truth, sis :)

"Choke For The Gold!"- “I MUST DOUSE MY HELLISH FLAME WITH YOUR SUBSERVIENT SWEAT”

“One hell of a me out of the pieces of you”- “I’m not a surgeon but I’ll try my level best, I’m gonna flay you up and down, leave you bleeding on the ground and make my own Bergara vest”

[divineprank]

I've been meaning to tackle this absolute beast all fucking DAY LONG. Ganondorf's solid black Gerudo stallion.

For what it's worth, I've touched on this monster in the past, at least with regard to BotW (and I suppose TotK's) changes. Specifically, naming the probable breed of horse and matching it to Ganondorf's usual sensibilities. The Percheron is quite literally a pedigree of power. It is a strong, working breed that is described as being incredibly loyal as both a companion and noble steed... And, of course, the largest known modern horse.

Anyways, rewinding back to Ocarina of Time, I wholly believed that this horse died sometime within the seven years that Link slept. I build this argument around two observable facts in the game: we never see Ganondorf riding it after Link falls asleep, and the fact that Ingo, the new owner and manager of Lon Lon Ranch is preparing Epona to present to the Great King Ganondorf. Why would he need a new horse?

Sure, it could be said that this last argument is just a matter of Ingo showing his appreciation for Ganondorf giving the ranch to him, but... Let's think about something. After Link wakes back up, when is the next time we see Ganondorf's horse? Not at Ganondorf's side, but instead serving Ganondorf's phantom doppelgänger deep within the Forest Temple -- a stronghold of the forest that seems to attract the dead. You see, in a 1999 interview with 64Dream magazine, it's confirmed that not only those lost within the Lost Woods turn to Stalfos and look to the Forest Temple for solace, but also that the Forest Temple is indeed haunted, inhabited by the lost souls of those who wish to protect the temple from intruders. Despite the place being overgrown and flourished with plantlife, that stronghold is a place of death. This is a place where the dead go to be reclaimed by nature.

And thus, perhaps inevitably, where the spirit of Ganondorf's horse ended up as well.

(Another argument that helps me is the fact that Percherons have a lifespan of between 25 and 30 years, which does line up with the age range I can personally see Ocarina of Time Ganondorf settled in, his mid 30s and 40s. Didn't know where else to place this argument so cough coff--)

Anyways, lemme tilt the conversation a little bit away from our definitely-dead-now-totally-pure-glue horsey friend and look at Phantom Ganon from Ocarina of Time. I'm not gonna do the cliché thing and start telling you the dictionary's definition of phantom, because we all know what they are: fuckin' ghosts, right? Spooky, the worst. Luigi's fuckin' nightmare. But let's consider for a moment what happens when people die, I mean--yeah they fuckin' die. But literarily (definitely a word, google said) speaking, we often apply concepts of longing, rage, or regret, the things we never got to do or say in the wake of a loved one's death, onto the idea of a ghost: in loss, we're haunted by our own actions, or our inactions, what we said in the heat of the moment... you get the idea. Emotions are powerful, sometimes to the point that they themselves become something separate, they take on a life of their own. Listen, I don't know if you've let a beloved pet down before? Feeling fuckin' sucks. Especially when they die in your arms.

Once Link defeats this boss, we see Phantom Ganon squirm and die in a horrible, burning display as Ganondorf berates its failure, calling it a worthless creation and threatening to banish it to an unspeakable, unknowable place that only vaguely describes a miserable existence. This is literally the only time Ganondorf addresses Link after a major story development until the climax of the game. That brat's hit a nerve, and that nerve is the ghost rider that was supposed to accompany his precious horse in the afterlife.

This wasn't a situation where Ganondorf was genuinely mad at Link for his display of strength, no, we see Ganondorf break his antagonistic character for just a moment and display something a little more personal: this creature failed him -- we don't see the spirit of the horse burn with Phantom Ganon, no all of his attention goes to to the skull-faced rider.

This "creation" was something meant to honor his dead friend, to keep the stallion happy and comfortable in death. A manifestation of Ganondorf's attachment to an old friend, perhaps, a gift given to a young Gerudo prince back during the madman's youth. His deep attachment to that horse didn't die, it simply transformed to soothe the restless, endlessly loyal creature in its new stage of life.

And ohhhh, how that thing, that worthless creature, that phantom failed him. His horse just wants to be with his rider, and yet...

[nathaniacolver]

okay i'm back for what i'm calling the "pirate" shrine

did the shrine, now fight the pirates

well that was quite uneventful. got a blue hinox hammer though

bro i think I'm literally just gonna walk this korok to his friend

what if the lightning strikes the korok while I'm hoisting him in midair fkhhdkdkdjdsksjd

okay now the shrine

bro i love that the bigger enemies can just throw or carry smaller bokoblins like that's so funny lol

bro "turbine power" was the quickest shrine i've done in a MINUTE

okay lady let me go report that i killed the pirates

BRO only for 2 pony points??? Chile......

NO WAIT AN ENDURA CARROT TOO LET'S FREAKING GOOOOOOOOOO MALANYA I'M COMING FOR YOU

wait feed the doge first

55 DEFENSE ROYAL SHIELD??????? OH LET'S GO

wait i have one (1) bomb flower i can go explore the well

the fact that the camera makes a box around the object you're photographing is actually pro skills development like

now why did i think the game would encourage me to take a picture of the statue of the goddess 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ RESPECT CULTURE NIA

taking Sol (zelda's horse) to malanya we'll see what happens

golden apple for a golden horsey!

wait i LOVE malanya's color palate!!

"the god of horses cannot revive on an empty stomach" skkskajsms okay

Sol baby daddy is taking notes okay daddy's gonna go cook meals and give them to horse god so we can max you out okay

used my sleepover card bc i think i wanna go fight the lynel

ope it's raining. not yet I guess. let's go see the spring of power instead

yo what happened to the mother goddess statue of power????¿?

hylia don't worry baby i got you!!!

okay the lynel made me eat like 30 hearts worth of food bruh. why did it not get stunned? Why could i not mount it?

a like like????? just in the open????

NOT GLOOM HANDS OKAY I WILL STAY AWAY FRKM SKILL LAKE FREAKING

bro i killed an aerocuda but then a BOAR SQUEALED right next to me and it FREAKED ME OUT

oh i like this pendulum shrine!

i practiced on the chest one then i oneshotted the regular one

i will indeed go into this cave in the other eye of skull lake but first off let's wait for the dragon to go into the depths so i can get his scale. lemme just sit here and drink my boba while I wait for him to fly down

ok he very much did not go down into the chasm.....i shoulda known. The dragon music wasn't playing

okay tulin you gotta go your gusr just made me die

bro if this goes to the depths i'm reloading. that obsidian frog scared me SO BAD last time

bro why are there skeleton bokoblins????........

IF THERE ARE GLOOM HANDS DOWN HERE IT'S A NO

oh just a skeletal hinox that's fine

now about these blue rocks...............idk man

bruh the reason I didn't know where toto lake was was bc i was looking for BLUE water 😭😭 poor zora pollution :(

bro i was about to launch a full-scale search and rescue for the stone slab, like the whole mountain, and then i look to the left and it's just There

bro okay lemme explore real quick

all that exploring did was get me a blue boss bokoblin horn but that's okay ALSO i learned that you can just shoot the baskets of those bokoblin basket bearers and the fire chuchus will all explode!

okay sneak up on the kids as they gossip ........literally it's always the kids

bro why is it SO HARD to swim through this waterfall. realistics be darned

aw dorephan looks so beat up .......

bro i can't believe muzu STILL does not trust me like

BRO I TOLD YOU SOEMONE IS IMPERSONATING ZELDA. BEN (my brother) WAS LIKE "NAJ" BUT BRO I TOLD YOU!!!! IT'S GANON ALL OVER AHAIN DKSJDNSJDDN

bro i was scared ab finding the droplet rock bc my brother took 5ever to find it but lo and behold you just climb to the top and Look

i love briefly subverting the blood moon by teleporting

YO AM I AB TO SEE A COUPLE FIGHT BETWEEN SIDON AND YONA YOOOOOO

oh the sludge like like had to intervene

"I can see right through you" oh she gagged him a bit

SHE GAGGED HIM GOODDDDDD

i already saw the hurricane cutscene when my brother played so eh

i totally mis-dove but whatever

bruh......no bomb arrows........okay time to go back to the depths. and maybe hestu. and maybe misko's treasure

bro i just barely got the "combat training: throwing" shrine 😭😭 i guess i'll take the free regen and crappy weapons

spent like 20 min in the depths, faced a lynel, got 2 more lightroots, still don't have 150 poes, and only have 3 bomb flowers. wow.

something something sleep to regen health something

need to live tweet my playing of totk but don't wanna be annoying on my irl so i'll just do it here. this is the first bit:

BEWARE: TOTK SPOILERS BELOW

"i know i'll be ok with you link" okay they are IN LOVE

WHERE IS LINK IN THE CUTSCENE. THEY HAVE TO SHOW HIM IN THE NEXT 10 SECONDS OR I WILL FRET

ZONAI????!!?!!?!??!?!?! (Listen i forgot the gameplay trailer)

me walking at a respectable pace as to not leave zelda's side

BABE THERE'S TOO MUCH MALICE HERE WHY ARE WE STILL GOING

just talked to zelda and she was like "i'm so excited!!!!" GIRL DO YOU NOT HAVE AN OUNCE OF SELF-PRESERVATION

swinging the sword swinging the sword

WAIT WHY DO I HAVE 30 HEARTS WHYYYYYYY DO I HAVE 30 HEARTS

THEY JUST ADDED AN INSTRUMENT OR TWO OH FRICK AND IT'S GETTING LOUDER oh i already love the sound engineering

GLOWY SPIRAL????

DON'T PICK UP THE TEAR BABY oh frick oh frick

OH THAT'S WHY I HAD 30. FOR THE DRAMA

CAN'T LOOK AT MY TYPING I'M WATCHING THE CHTSCENE

OH FRICK IT JUST SHATTERED OH FRICK

gamer lean on x games mode rn

mans said screw it i'm out. fly you fools

BRO I WAS TYPING THE ABOVE WHEN HE LUNGED AND I GOT SO NERVOUS THAT I'D HAVE TO FIGHT FJSKDKJSJDAHHDLADG THE JOYCONS ARE FLOPPING AROUNS ON MY ARMS

THAT TEAR BETTER PROTECT HER I HOPE THAT'S WHAT THAT GLOWY YELLOW WAS

BRO WHAT. THE BLUE GLOWING IS GOOD. this is so anakin skywalker of him btw

baby don't you worry i'm gonna make link level up so fast so he can come and get you

oop naked link again AND HIS SHORTS ARE SHORTER????

nice mani link

A MAN'S VOICE???????? WHO IS IT WHY DOES EVERYONE KNOW THEIR NAMES

okay so The Voice just gives him an arm. okay

the malice or whatever stopping just at the triforce is Symbolic, i think

is it really a master sword or is it a master Dagger

i rly be taking screenshots of everything like i'm a tourist

okay green hand thing go off!!! oop give it a high five and it turns blue and goes behind you as a save point

*taking notes* okay cogs are cogging.......gears are gearing..........

now why the frick did it have me dive like that. what was The Reason

i Forgor that link can tread water indefinitely. swimming king

not me searching every nook and cranny like there's gonna be secrets in this Cave

PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ARCHAIC PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

wait i put them on and now he looks like a gladiator.......cardboard skirt & Jesus sandals........ok shirtless king

oop just noticed his hair animations & the layers are CRAZY but it lookin good

wait so they was underground......and now in the sky...................i have Theories

they said aerial view shot once again but i mean AERIAL

ope no climbing, you're already too high in the sky

the lighting looks SO GOOD!

it's so silent up here i love it.

the MUSIC AHHHH

WAIT EVERYTHING'S AN ISLAND???? OH WE WAY THE FRICK UP IN THE SKY LINK. HOW CAN YOU BREATHE THAT THIN AIR

this game is making me fall In Love. with Silence

TREE BRANCH YES THE WORLD IS HEALING

apples. i could Cry

is that a broom?????

wait so the soldiers are bad and the stewards are good. it's just like real life!

why do i have the feeling that this is a /different/ princess zelda that left this to him.......oh nvm it's just the purah pad. what happened to the sheikah slate???

is link gonna look at pics on it and get emo

wait so. garden of time (ok Christianity reference). so zelda has lived through some trash already and is like poor link in the past. let's give him this

aw it's lonely :(

YES WE'RE GETTING ZELDA RIGHT AWAY I COULD CRY

ooh the purah pad looks slick (i'm so sorry but why does that sound like a tampon brand LIKEEEEE)

high five!!! oh wait high fives have OTHER FUNCTIONS???!?!

now why did the bridge have to do all that fancy stuff. (ik it's for stability or whatever don't @ me engineers)l

just smashed some pots. link's Primeval Urge

ok so linear path for Diving. got it.

that's a hot-footed frog.......................i could cry. i AM crying

picked up a rock. now i just have to see some Chickens

there are Grates in the ground and you can peek below. idk why i like that so much.

i am hunting these ostriches like i might die

THAT GUY SNUCK UP ON ME SO SILENTLY. I DECIDED I HATE FLOATING MACHINE ENEMIES (don't worry i was fine)

why did i try to light a frog on fire

[eccentrick-ramblings]

The visage of love has long been elusive. It is a shape-shifting word, exalted and cursed in the same breath, but wistfully longed for once it's gone. Love is feared and shunned, exiled for crimes committed against the heart. 

Jaskier can go on about love for hours, if he has to. He knows enough about it, in fact, that he calls himself something of an expert. The thought of love crosses his mind often. Too often, if his witcher has anything to say about it besides his signature grunt. 

But, if you had invisible shards of glass shredding the soles of your feet and intangible thorns wrapped between your toes, ready to draw every ounce of punishment for wanting more, you'd have to have something on your mind too. 

Sometimes, he asks himself, why? What about this land, this wretched continent in all its hideous glory, made him long for legs? To be able to walk on two feet? He can't remember the exact moment he decided he wanted to leave the sea behind, not in so many words or moments. What was even appealing to him at the time? The shores bloodied by war, or perhaps the burning lights of the pyres? 

But, every time he finds himself close to regret, the world reminds him, brings him back to himself. A child shyly asking for a song, giving Jaskier a toothy smile as he starts a silly ditty. A peasant family feeding him when the rotting fruit thrown at him won't suffice, or he has no stale bread to stuff in his pants.

Or, a witcher who helps those who scorn him. 

You can say that the witcher only does what he does for the coin; it's in the 'code' Geralt keeps invoking even when Jaskier knows it's a crock of bullshit. But he's been there during lean times; when even Geralt is going hungry, his body still strong but heading towards gaunt, where all Jaskier can hope for in taverns is a bowl of watery stew and a bed to rest his weary head. During those times, Geralt does what he can do to help, since lean times means necrophages and wraiths, and only asks for payment when he knows they are able. Usually, he asks for grain instead, for Roach, or cured meat for him and Jaskier. 

The witcher is an ass, granted. Jaskier will never deny that.

"Can we please stop for the night, Geralt? Geralt. Geralt. Can we stop for the night? I can keep this up if you need me too. I know how much you love my fillingless pie of a voice." 

Jaskier can see Geralt's grip on Roach's reins tighten for a moment before he loosens it. From the broad of his back, Jaskier can deduce that he's irritating the witcher. Good. His feet feel like they've swollen to twice their size, the glass and thorns drawing no blood but creating an ache in his veins regardless. They've been walking for hours, and he knows there's a decent sized town ahead. If they keep this up, the pain will crawl up his legs and settle in his hips, so that even laying down to sleep will be agonizing. 

He walks faster despite the screaming in his feet and sidles up to Geralt, "Look, even Roach is tired! Right, Roach?" 

Roach lifts her head up and down, side to side in a horsey agreement. 

"Don't think I don't know you've been bribing her to agree with you," Geralt says, but he doesn't sound too put out. 

Once the town is in sight Geralt stops without any long suffering sighs, so Jaskier suspects he's tired as well. Or perhaps, wants to have his own room away from Jaskier, but he doesn't want to think about that. He hums to himself, thinking about getting his lute out of its case and playing a set in the nearest tavern. 

The town is big enough to have two, so Jaskier goes to the loudest one, leaving Geralt to brush Roach down and get her settled in a stable. Once he steps into the rowdy tavern, his heart drops.

If it was any other person, Jaskier would praise the fact that she can stand out from the crowd with barely a glance. But Yennefer, with her long locks of black hair and striking purple eyes lined with thick eyelashes, does not bring out awe in him. 

Oh.

So that's why Geralt was so willing to stay here.

He knows he can't avoid her, and as he walks over to her table in the corner (why do Geralt and Yennefer have this strange thing in common? Are they brood-sexual? Is this why they're so hot for each other?) the pain in the joints of his feet double. 

"Bard." Yennefer greets. It holds less bite than usual. 

"Witch." 

Her nose wrinkles as Jaskier sits down across from her. "If I can smell you across the room, I fear what Geralt will reek of." 

Jaskier is suddenly too tired to be offended. He probably does smell. He just wishes such a simple thing wouldn't have the power to make him feel even worse when coming out of the witch's mouth. She knows she already won. Why must she rub it in?

She tilts her head. "What, no quip? Snarky come back? I thought bards are supposed to be witty." 

"Not quite in the mood," Jaskier says through gritted teeth. Any good humor has left him. His feet throb. 

"How disappointing. Tell me, how are your feet?"

Jaskier freezes, his heart tumbling in his chest. 

"I know they must be aching-"

"Yen."

Jaskier is both relieved and horrified at the sound of Geralt's voice. At the way the nickname -- one that only Geralt can use while keeping his balls -- sounds so soft, yet firm. Fond. 

"I do hope you have a bath waiting," Yennefer says by way of greeting. Her face is still hard, without the minute lessening of tension that usually happens in Geralt's presence. 

"Hmm, I'll ask for one if you quit badgering the bard. I hope you know I'm not into feet that way." 

A small smile graces Yennefer's face. "Does it matter if you aren't?" 

Geralt grunts. "I'll be upstairs." 

There it is. A shape of love. Twisted and forlorn, two broken pieces forging new peaks. Is it healthy? Jaskier doesn't know. But he knows it hurts, his jagged edges becoming smooth under the rough waves pushing against his heart. Most would view the erosion as a good thing, fingers less likely to get cut when its cradled. But Jaskier knows that it simply means he's worn down. 

In that moment, sitting in the corner alone as Yennefer brushes past him with purpose, he misses the sea more than anything. 

--

Tagging: @jaskicr @stitchedopen @lookingforblessedsilence @negativenuggetz @captaindixiejoy

This was supposed to be a warm-up. Maybe 500 words. Lemme know what more you guys wanna see! I'm up for mer!Jaskier ideas if you guys want to see anything specific. I tagged those who showed the most interest in a mer!jaskier au or want to be tagged in general but you can ask me if you want on or off of it anytime.

[kaldwinroyalty]

Me: Aw man horsey wrote up a spoiler thing about the newest Dishonored book, lemme read it and see if theres anything actually-

Horsey: Hellicoptors

Me: WHAT THE FUCK

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

This continues to be a DELIGHTFUL ball of fun with plentiful helpings of one flirty sexy cowboy and even more audacious banter and I am HERE for it and adore youuuu. 🥰 I read this right after I woke up this morning nuzzled under the covers and was grinning like a goofball the whole time. But first, I have to take a moment to point out how the landscape and sensory descriptions of their environs you wrote are gorgeous!

The field, the sunrise, the rock formations, the way it made me pause and appreciate it as much as they did, they way I could visualize it? Especially loved that mesmerizing bit about the grasses and flowers rhythmically parting around the horses, also that detail about how she braids flowers into the horses hair?!

Jack stuck in his ways makes me smile so damn much--his taking that selfie of them with a DSLR, how that dick pick he took was clearly him aiming a camera at his reflection in a mirror and BEING SO FKN PROUD about the goods, I love him. And heeeey-ohhhhh!! We got a KISS errbody, after Jack brought his a-game to "never have I ever" (the way I was waiting with bated breath to see what the other would say next, the tension!!) and he wished her happy birthday? So sweet?!

You keep supplying us with so many other good Jack moments too. That line about how Jack stands up in his stirrups while riding to check on you, the way I can just see his those jeans and that face, so hot? His Javier Peña-esque grinding jaw shift after her "yes sir", also hot? And you just dropped this in there when he talks about his past: "he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle." Oh how I would give anything for a picture or footage of a young Jack riding a resplendent Sparkles. 😊😊😊😊

"…you spend the morning trading horsey stories" SOOO every time you drop the word "horsey" my heart grows another size larger. And speaking of horseys, lemme tell you about the honorary PhD in Horseyness this fic is giving me! After I realized you used two different terms here, trot and canter, and not knowing what either means, I went and happily read the "Horse Gait" entry on Wikipedia and thennnn sat and was intrigued by a video analyzing what hooves are on the ground at what time for all the different gaits, this is fascinating stuff! 😎

And the Halfway House is looming on the horizon!! 🥰🥰🥰 You take your time darlin 😉 and whenever you feel inspired to write and gift us with the chapter, we'll be here!

III ║ Dapple Grey

Jack Daniels x f!reader

 { << Part 2: Buckskin | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Tinder is a dangerous game. So is Never Have I Ever.

Warnings: Flirting, yearning, insecurities, sexual tension, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendoes, language, mention of food, drinking, drinking games, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I had a little bit of a meltdown writing this part. Thank you @mandoblowmybackout and @prolix-yuy for talking me out of it ❤️ I had the busiest week so I didn't have as much time as I usually do for edits, so this chapter's a bit of an… experiment 🙈 Thank you for everyone who's been so kind to me and this series - I hope you enjoy this part! 🦄

Dapple grey: A grey or white horse with spots or areas of a darker colour.

Day 2

‘Stop looking at me.’

‘I’m not.’

You turn the camera around to show Jack the photo you just took and deadpan, ‘I have literal proof of you looking straight at me.’

The two of you are sitting underneath the shade of a tree, a simple lunch laid out in the middle on a picnic blanket. The horse’s saddles and packs are resting against the trunk behind you while they graze nearby.

In front of you, several yards away, the grassy plain drops off into a deep valley. And beyond - a sight to behold. If the bentonite hills had been sculpted by a higher being, they must have run an inadvertent finger through the clay while it was on the spinning wheel, creating dramatic curves that cut into the soft rock. The hills are painted from left to right for miles and miles in white, red and green stripes, candy cane colours faded under the sun.

Jack gives you a scowl as he rolls up his tortilla wrap, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. He grumbles, ‘It’s hard not to. You’re pointing the camera at me.’

‘Well, you gave me full control of today’s photography, so you have to do what I say.’

He flings an accusatory finger at you. ‘Only because you promised to help us with our marketing.’

You press a dramatic hand to your chest. ‘What exactly are you insinuating, cowboy?’

‘You’re obviously taking pictures for the Tinder thing instead, which, by the way, I am not convinced about,’ replies and takes a bite of his wrap.

‘Not convinced - ha! Says the guy who drives two hours to a bar and doesn’t even know if he’ll get laid,’ you retort. ‘And don’t you worry, cowboy, these pictures will definitely work for both the ranch and Tinder.’

His frowns. ‘What do you mean for the ranch?’

‘I mean for the website and social media. Honestly, I’m surprised there aren’t any pictures of you on there already. You guys would get so much business you’ll have to turn people away.’

He cocks an eyebrow, arrogance seeping into his smile. ‘Oh, and why is that?’

You roll your eyes at his fishing for a compliment. ‘You know why, cowboy.’

‘Enlighten me, darlin’,’ he insists with a wink. ‘I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.’

You put the cap back on the lens and reprimand, ‘What did I say about your ego last night?’

You avoid his gaze as you unwittingly steer the conversation into dangerous waters. You probably shouldn’t be bringing up anything from the night before - at all. There’s no alcohol to blame in the bright light of day though. Somehow, just being around this cowboy is enough to cloud your better judgement and make you say reckless things.

When you finally peer at him out of the corner of your eye, he casts you no more than an amused glance. Polishing off his lunch and dusting his hands, he looks away to watch the horses.

The morning hours before passed with no mention of what transpired by firelight. All the tension that has built up between you two in the dark burned off with the daybreak mist, and you’re feeling a lot lighter after your little bedtime distraction. And in the absence of any suggestive ogling or innuendoes from the cowboy, you conclude that you must have gotten away with it. All you are is a bit saddle sore, but nothing too serious, and you ride on with little difficulty. 

An easy camaraderie has set in between you and Jack after surviving your first night together in the mountains. The banter packs a bit more punch now that you are no longer complete strangers, and you spend the morning trading horsey stories.

Jack learned to ride on his uncle’s farm. His first pony belonged to his older cousin who lost interest in the sport, so he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle, until he outgrew her. He worked in and around the equestrian circuit until Champ offered him the job ten years ago, after meeting at a rodeo.

The conversation petered out when the lush green landscape gave way to drier sand, and suddenly, towering ahead, were the famous soaring red earth formations that you’ve been travelling the last two days for. Jutting out of the ground and chiselled by centuries of wind and rain, the echoing clops of the horses’ hooves bounced off the crimson stone as you rode under arches and past columns, dwarfed by the natural architecture.

After spending the better part of an hour exploring the red earth valley, you were taking a quick water break in the shade, when an idea struck you. 

‘Do you think I’d get a discount for my next trip if I helped you guys with your online marketing?’

Jack chuckled. ‘Already thinking about coming back, huh? I mean I’ve always been told that I’m charming, but a turnaround this quick-’

You leaned out of your saddle to give him a small slap on the shoulder for his cheek. ‘Don’t let it get to your head, cowboy. I’m doing it for selfish reasons - a project like this would be a great addition to my portfolio.’

‘What exactly do you do for a living?’ he asked.

Capping your water bottle, you fastened it to its holder. ‘Branding and marketing. I work at an agency now, but someday I want to start my own business, so I always take on projects on the side when I have time.’

‘And you didn’t even bring your own equipment?’ he teased.

You pouted. ‘C’mon, let me borrow yours. I won’t drop it, I promise.’

With a dramatic sigh, Jack relented, ‘You know I can’t say no to you, darlin’.’

Now, hours later, he clearly wishes that he did. Jumping onto his feet, he leans down and unceremoniously plucks the camera from your hands, prompting an indignant cry.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘I’m laying down the law. No more pictures of me today.’

You shrug, not bothering to look up as he walks away towards the saddlebags. ‘Joke’s on you, cowboy! I got more than enough for your Tinder profile and the ranch.’

At the unexpected click of the shutter, your head snaps up to see Jack grinning at you from behind the camera a couple of feet away. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Taking photos for your profile,’ he replies triumphantly.

You pull your hat down low over your face and grumble, ‘Stop it! I’m covered in sweat and dirt.’

He scoffs. ‘So am I! Didn’t stop you though, did it?’

Ugh. Does this insufferable man not understand that sweat and dirt only adds to his appeal?

You grouse, ‘And how are you going to be able to help with my profile? You’ve never even heard of the app.’

Jack crouches down to pack the camera securely in a saddlebag, peering at you over his shoulder. ‘I’m a man. Surely my opinion would count for something.’

Oh, he doesn’t need to tell you that. He’s all man. One whose very tight jeans are practically straining against his pert backside while he rearranges the packing on one knee.

Standing up, Jack whistles at the horses grazing nearby. He turns to you and says, ‘Come on, darlin’, no more clownin’ around on my watch. We got some ground to cover to get to our camp for tonight.’

You groan half-jokingly, climbing to your feet and grumble, ‘Yes, sir.’

You notice the way he stiffens. There’s a twitch in his neck as if he’s holding himself back from turning towards you, and his jaw shifts like he’s grinding his teeth. When you walk up behind him, he clears his throat deliberately and busies himself with the tack as the horses trot lazily back towards you.

Interesting.

You reach out to rub Scotch on the nose when he approaches, giving him half of the apple you saved for him from lunch. You keep an eye on Jack, your mind whirring, as you saddle up for the afternoon.

Turns out the cowboy wasn’t joking. It’s a seriously hard ride, with long stretches of cantering over flat ground. It’s as exhilarating as it is hard on your body - your calves and thighs are burning, your shoulders ache, and you start to actually worry if you’ll be able to carry on tomorrow. If you even survive this afternoon, that is.

You’re on what feels like the hundredth backbreaking canter streak of the day. Jack and Whiskey a safe four horse-lengths ahead, Bourbon following behind you and Scotch. The sun is veiled by clouds, but the heat is no less forgiving. You’re sweat-soaked to the bone, hair sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck. You’ve never been so desperate for a shower and a cold drink.

You see Jack stand up in his stirrups and turn around in his saddle to check on you. You must look like hell, because he takes mercy on you and holds up a hand to signal the end of the lope. When Scotch slows down to a walk next to Whiskey, he asks, barely winded, ‘You ok, darlin’?’

Panting for air, you reach desperately for your water. ‘Are you trying to kill me, cowboy? You remember what I said about the gym last night, right?’

He chuckles, taking a drink of water himself. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m pushing you, but there’s somethin’ I want to show you before we lose the light.’

You swipe at a bead of sweat running down the side of your cheek with your clothed shoulder, too tired to sit up straight in the saddle anymore. You point a threatening finger at him. ‘It better be worth it, or I swear I’ll have your head.’

Jack gives you an encouraging pat on the back. ‘I promise it will be. Come on, darlin’, I know you can do it.’

Despite your exhaustion, some baser instinct in you can’t help but preen at his words. Damn your need for approval and praise from the lips of a handsome man.

It’s another hour or so on the road when you discern a drop in temperature, the sun starting its descent for the day, though the sky remains bright. Jack slows you down to an easy trot, craning his neck, as if searching for something. Distracted by an itch on your ankle, deep inside your boots, you don’t notice Whiskey coming to an abrupt halt in front of you.

‘Whoa, sorry,’ you apologise, gathering up the reins last-second to stop Scotch from running straight into the chestnut’s rump. ‘I wasn’t paying atten- ’

You trail off when you look up, hands frozen awkwardly in mid-air as all your motor functions grind to a stop.

You’re not sure how or where it came from - an enormous field of wildflowers in bloom stretches before you, as far as the eye can see.

‘Did I deliver on that promise, darlin’?’

Air rushes into your lungs when Jack’s words register, and only then do you realise you’ve been holding your breath. Robbed of your faculties, you answer with a mute nod.

Jack smiles broadly at your speechlessness. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

Scotch follows when Jack nudges Whiskey down the small slope. The meadow parts like softly lapping waves around the horses’ knees, a riot of colour and scent. If it was earlier in the afternoon, you’re sure there would be a muted buzz of honey bees hard at work. It’s mostly still at this hour, other than the whistle of grass and leaves brushing the horses’ legs as you make your way deeper into the field. 

Your eyes dart about, barely focusing long enough to recognise what’s in front of you - bluebells, woodland sage, verbena, daisies, foxglove - and far more that you can’t name off the top of your head. The sweet nectar is overwhelming, and when a breeze stirs, it washes over you like a gentle mist from a perfume bottle.

Slowly regaining your senses, a familiar sound catches your ear. Glancing to your left, Jack has his camera aimed at you as the horses walk slowly.

You grin, not caring that you’re a mess. Your knees brush when the horses drift into each other’s course. ‘Thanks for bringing me here, Jack.’

‘My pleasure,’ he tips his hat at you. ‘So - there’s a camp around three quarters of an hour’s ride away, but we can stay here tonight if you want to.’

Your chest swells excitedly at the prospect, but you demur, ‘Will it be too much hassle? We don’t have anything here.’

With a wave of his hand, Jack dismisses your doubts. ‘It’s just the two of us, it can be easily done. There’s a stream a short distance that way, which is all we need. I’ll take care of everything else.’

A grin breaks across your face. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble - I’d love to camp here tonight. Thank you.’

Jack nods. ‘Of course. Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

You don't want to contemplate how you’ll ever go back to an existence where you don’t have cowboys with gorgeous brown eyes telling you things like that. And you suppose you don't have to - at least for a few more days.

‘Can I help with anything?’ you offer.

He shakes his head adamantly, one hand outstretched as if to physically stop you. ‘Absolutely not. Stay here with Scotch and Pinto, take a breather, stretch your legs - I’ll get everything ready.’

When Jack and Whiskey return half an hour later, having loaded up on water and firewood, he finds both horses untacked and brushed down. A smile tugs at his lips - of course you wouldn’t listen to him. The tack and saddlebags are neatly laid out, the cooking supplies already unpacked in preparation for dinner.

Scotch and Pinto are lying down, hooves tucked tidily under themselves, snacking on grass and half-dozing. You’re sitting cross-legged next to the palomino, braiding daisies into his white mane. You look up when you hear Jack approach.

‘I moved us further down so we don’t set fire to the field,’ you joke, pointing at the slightly barer patch of land.

‘Well done, darlin’,’ he replies and dismounts, giving Whiskey a big pat before quickly unsaddling him. Tipping his face to the sky, he remarks, ‘I think we’ll have quite a sunset tonight.’

Despite it only being the second day of the trip, you and Jack seem to have settled into a comfortable rhythm. He sets up the fire while you shower, and then you feed the horses - dry feed with apple and carrot bits for tonight - while Jack nips off for his.

He doesn’t protest when you help with dinner - corn chowder and jacket potatoes are on the menu this evening. While Jack preps the vegetables for the soup, you oil, season and wrap the potatoes in foil, planting them directly into the fire for a slow roasting.

At the first sign of the sky turning colours, you set up your phone on timelapse, propping it against your water bottle behind the two of you, with the horses and the campfire in-shot as the sun starts to sink. You don’t have to worry about battery life as the solar chargers are fully charged from abundant sunshine these couple of days, and there will be electricity at the Halfway House when you get there tomorrow.

At some point, both of you stop what you’re doing to watch the sunset. The sky is stained blood orange, the colour dripping from the horizon to stretch across the field of wildflowers until it is awash in red. A flock of birds cut across the cloudless horizon in a homeward formation, their caws echoing in the valley.

The digital click of the shutter pulls you out of your thoughts.

‘Jack,’ you berate him half-heartedly.

‘Come here, darlin’,’ he shuffles closer and turns the camera around so the front is pointed at you both. You can see your reflection in the lens - and he presses the shutter-release.

The chowder is delicious, as has been everything Jack has made so far on the trip. But after dinner, when the plates have been washed and the sleeping bags rolled out, belly full but slumber not yet come knocking, and Jack asks if you want a nightcap with a twinkle in his eyes - you decide that’s your favourite time of the day.

He puts a kettle on the fire, and pulls a tin of cocoa from a saddlebag. ‘You want a hot chocolate? We can make it Irish.’

You chuckle. ‘Sounds good, cowboy.’

Steaming mugs in hand, Jack carefully makes his way to your sleeping bag, the fire tracing his silhouette in bright orange. You take one, legs crossed and elbows on your knees, thanking him before taking a ginger taste. 

A violent cough racks your frame, the potency taking you by surprise. ‘Jesus Christ - is this three-quarters whiskey?’

Jack cracks a roguish grin in your direction. ‘Maybe. But I bet you can take it, darlin’.’

Holy fuck. 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads over the planes of your cheeks, and you duck behind your drink. Under the cover of night, in that gravelly Southern drawl, his words wield an unholy power.

Not ready to spar yet, you take a steadying inhale and a long sip, the alcohol burning on its way down. You grab the camera that’s been lying closeby all evening and say, ‘Let’s go over the photos I took today. I might even let you choose which ones to use for your profile.’

He snorts in jest, but shifts closer so that he can see the screen. ‘Sure, I believe you, darlin’.’

For such a good-looking man, Jack doesn’t seem to have a vain bone in his body. He is complimentary of your photography, stopping you when you want to zoom past the reel of your scenic shots. Instead, he takes the time to politely appreciate the composition, framing and lighting. But whenever one of him shows up, it’s he who wants to fast forward, uncomfortable with the attention of seeing himself on film. 

When your drinks run low, Jack gets up to get more cocoa and hot water. You two are in the middle of an argument about the merits of (or according to him, the lack thereof) candid shots, after he vetoes one that you propose for Tinder.

‘Why that one?’ he disputes, collecting your mug. ‘I’m not even looking at the camera!’

‘That’s the whole point!’ you rebut. ‘It’s natural and in the moment. It’s a great photo of you!’

You ignore him as he grumbles while he mixes the cocoa. You click all the way through the reel, reaching the last photo of the day - the selfie of the two of you at sunset. Glancing up to make sure Jack is still occupied, you steal a moment to really study at the shot. 

It’s a flattering take, the lighting and angle kind on you. You admire the way Jack’s eyes crinkle warmly at the corners, one side of his moustache tilted up with his smile, tidy teeth peeking out from behind that wicked mouth.

This damn cowboy.

Accidentally, your finger brushes a button on the dial, taking you to the top of the SD card. What comes on screen first appears innocuous enough - but when your gaze focuses, you freeze and your jaw drops.

Jack’s just poured a tall measure of whiskey into each mug when he notices you’ve fallen completely motionless, camera still in your hands. With a frown, he leans over to see why.

‘Jesus Christ!’ he swears loudly, leaping forward to snatch it away from you, nearly knocking over both drinks in the process. He just about tosses the machine away as if it burns him. ‘Shit, fuck, shit. Fuck!’

You haven’t heard him cuss much yet on the trip, and you’re not sure if that’s what triggers it, but suddenly you’re laughing so hard that your chest heaves and your lungs ache. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath, what you saw on the screen seared into your memory.

It’s a photo Jack took of himself in what you assume is a bathroom mirror, his left hand holding the camera. Something about him is different, maybe his hair is a bit shorter, more slicked back. A flannel shirt hangs unbuttoned on his firm body, just like yesterday when he was undressing at the lake. It’s innocent enough up to this point.

Lower still, his belt with the now familiar flask buckle dangles undone, jeans shoved carelessly just past his pelvis. His large hand - which you’re now used to seeing deftly grasping the reins or resting on his thigh as he rides next to you - is wrapped around the base of what appears to be a very generously sized, very hard cock.

You just wish you’d been granted a few more seconds to peruse before Jack ripped the camera from you.

Finally, you wheeze, ‘Who takes nude pics on a DSLR?’

Jack runs a palm over his face and sighs. ‘You saw the state of my phone, the camera doesn’t work. The pictures were for my ex, she lived two states away and we didn’t see each other much. I thought I deleted them ages ago.’

You make grabby hands at the fresh hot chocolates, which he passes to you. You squeak, ‘I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Even in the dark, you can see the tips of his ears turning beet red, and you don't think you're imagining the insecurity in his tone as he mutters, ‘Sorry, that was embarrassin’.’

‘Why are you sorry? I didn’t see anything you should apologise for,’ you reply truthfully, swirling your drink, the hot steam warming your nose as you take a sip. 

Jack peers at you with a bemused frown. ‘No?’

His gaze follows as you lick an errant drop of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. You add slyly, ‘I don’t see anything to be embarrassed about, either.’

‘Is that so?’ He hums thoughtfully, a self-assuredness squaring his broad shoulders as he leans towards you. ‘Does that mean you liked what you saw then, darlin’?’

It’s a loaded question. You give him a lopsided smile, and with more bravado than you feel, you quip, ‘I don’t know - I’ll have to take a closer look, cowboy.’

He holds your challenging stare when he knocks back a mouthful of his drink, and smacking his lips, he grins, ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Batting your eyelashes ironically, you half-joke, ‘Do I have to say please, too?’

Jack breathes out hard through his nostrils, a strangled laugh caught in his chest. He chides, ‘Behave, darlin’.’ 

And with two little words, he turns the tables on you and shoves you up a metaphorical wall. The shudder that ripples through your body at being told to behave by this cowboy doesn’t escape his keen observation, and his lips quirk in a cocksure manner. 

Jack opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by a quick succession of pings from your phone, which has been silent since the start of the trip. The sound is alien in the quiet of the mountains.

Your brow wrinkles in confusion. ‘Uh - what’s happening?’

It might be wishful thinking on your part, but disappointment seems to flash across Jack’s features as you change the subject.

‘There’s a weather station nearby. Sometimes we get the splash off,’ he explains.

You give him an enquiring look. ‘You know what I’m going to do now?’

Jack sighs in resignation. ‘I won’t be able to get away with this Tinder business, will I?’

‘Don’t be so glum about it, cowboy, it’s fun,’ you wink. ‘First things first - do you have a Facebook account?’

Lying on your stomach, your pillow tucked under your chest and your socked feet up in the air behind you, you look like you’re settling in for the long haul. Jack rearranges himself accordingly, rolling up his sleeping bag and reclines into it like it was a beanbag. With a deep drag of his drink, he takes stock of the situation. 

First, Champ tries to set him up with you. 

And now, you’re trying to set him up with an online dating account.

If questioned a few moments ago, he would still have thought that he was the cause of your little show last night. Right now - he’s not so sure anymore.

He’d been on the cusp of sleep when he heard you - a whimper that would’ve passed him by if the fire had cackled, or if a breeze had rustled the leaves in the trees. But in that window of perfect silence, he heard you. It paralysed him, sending blood rushing everywhere but his head, and he was up for hours, until his erection was eventually forced to dissipate from literal exhaustion.

Today has been something of a struggle, but he has bouts of sleeplessness every now and then, and even when it gets really fucking bad - he copes. He knows for a fact that you haven’t noticed. Hell, even his own team can’t pick up on it unless it’s been three nights and he literally trips over his feet walking on the fourth morning.

On the upside, at least the fatigue has forced him to keep his head on whatever task is at hand, sparing no room for thoughts about what he heard in the dark. But when you said ‘yes, sir’ earlier with such casual nonchalance, and the way you so boldly met him blow for blow just now - it took him all he’s got to fucking physically hold it together.

He’s not sure how it’s gone from that to you setting him up on Tinder, and by extension, with other women - in so fervent a manner.

Has he been reading you wrong this whole time? He’s barely taken a break from flirting with you, and he knows he’s not imagining your reactions to him when he pushes you a bit harder - just so he can see your eyes widen and hear your breath hitch - for him.

Watching you type on your phone with gusto, shooting questions at him - what’s your email address? How old are you? Do you want to link your Tinder account to your Facebook? - he wonders if he's lost his touch without realising it.

It’s been a couple of years since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend. She was sweet but his heart wasn’t in it, and the long-distance didn’t help. It’s been the odd one night stand here and there since, and while he’s not one to brag, his record is pretty damn near perfect.

Not that there’s much competition in this neck of the woods - well, Tequila puts up a good fight if they’re on a night out together. But right now, he’s the only man for miles and miles, and somehow, he’s still still losing.

So he tops up his mug (it’s mostly just whiskey now), and he drinks until you reach out and poke him on the knee, grinning from ear to ear. Jack bites the inside of his cheek and wishes you wouldn’t smile at him like that. Not when he can’t figure you out.

You wear the fireside glow so well, like you’ve always spent your days in the saddle, traversing the Wyoming hinterland, and ending your nights at the warmth of a campfire. 

Like you belong here.

‘What do you think?’ you prompt him, tipping the screen towards him.

He takes your phone and studies it. It’s a photo of him that you took this morning, with his age and job listed on top of it in the bottom left corner. He shrugs. ‘I don’t know, you tell me. I have nothing to compare this to.’ 

Undaunted by his uninspired response, you swipe through enthusiastically, showing him the other uploads. ‘Look, I took some pictures from your Facebook page too. Trust me, you’ll be knee deep in pussy before you know it, cowboy.’

He chokes on his drink, which draws a chortle from you. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘Are you always so crass, darlin’?’

You salute him with your almost empty mug. ‘Only when nefarious cowboys spike my hot chocolate with way too much whiskey.’

He huffs a laugh. ‘One more or should we call it a night?’

‘We can’t go to bed yet, setting up your account is only step one. I still have to show you how to swipe right,’ you protest, but the screen abruptly goes blank when you tap on it. ‘Shit, the connection’s gone!’

‘Praise the Lord,’ Jack proclaims, turning his palms heavenward in relief. His knees creak when he gets up to add more wood to the fire. ‘What do you want to do now, then?’ 

You put your phone away reluctantly. ‘I don’t know. What do you usually do with guests?’

‘Depends,’ he grunts when he sits down, close to you. ‘If the Kingsman were here, we’d play poker and darts.’

‘I got to say I’m glad they’re not here, then,’ you say with a wrinkle of your nose. It’s getting colder, so you sit up and drape the cosy blanket across your shoulders. When the idea comes to mind, you almost leap up from your seat in excitement. ‘Oh I know! How about a game of never have I ever?’

Jack scoffs. ‘Are you fourteen?’

‘It’s a classic. Please? It’ll be fun,’ you needle, waving the now half-empty bottle at him. ‘We still have to finish this off.’

He pins you with a stern look. ‘We’ll get wasted.’

You shrug with a cheeky grin. ‘So? I’m on holiday, and we’re halfway there already.’

‘Just don’t blame me for your inevitable hangover tomorrow, darlin’,’ he replies in capitulation.

‘I’ll give you a get out of jail card,’ you assure him. Rubbing your hands together, you jump right into it. ‘Ok, I’ll start - never have I ever had a dog.’

Jack drinks, repositioning his long limbs so that he’s sat with one leg outstretched, and the other bent at the knee. He asks, ‘You’re not a dog person?’

‘I love dogs, just never had the space in the city,’ you answer. ‘I’m the designated dog sitter for all of my friends and neighbours though.’

Setting the bottle down between you, Jack continues, ‘Never have I ever had a cat.’

You drink and muse, ‘I miss having a cat - haven’t had one since I was a kid. Maybe I’ll look into adoption when I get home.’

Travel comes up next. You drink at his never have I ever been to Asia (you went backpacking all over for two months after graduation), and he drinks at your never have I ever been to Europe (he travelled to Greece for the Olympics when he worked as a groom for a short stint). 

You trade several more benign questions until, with an impish grin and a rush of alcohol-induced adrenaline, you tilt your head to one side and change the direction of the game. ‘Never have I ever - sent nudes.’

‘That’s not fair!’ complains Jack as you giggle, thrusting the bottle towards him.

‘I’m the guest, I don’t have to play fair,’ you retort.

‘Two can play this game,’ he shoots back, narrowing his eyes playfully. ‘Never have I ever used Tinder.’

‘Well played, cowboy,’ you smirk, grabbing the whiskey from him and taking a sip. After a moment’s consideration, you divulge, ‘Never have I ever had a one night stand.’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline, his voice deep as he comments, ‘So you’re one of them good girls, huh?’

Teeth catching your bottom lip, your answer echoes so clearly between your ears that for a moment, you thought you’d said the words out loud.

I can be. For you.

‘Always been a relationship kinda girl,’ you admit, somewhat belatedly, as he takes a sip.

He smiles, then with a wriggle of his eyebrows, he fires his next shot. ‘Never have I ever - fancied a cowboy.’

Your mouth hangs open in bewilderment, your heart threatening to hammer its way out of the confines of the ribcage. Is he drunk? 

Well, you both are.

He’s watching you, his posture loose and relaxed. There’s no deviousness in his gaze, not even the playful kind. If anything, he appears - genuinely curious?

You suppose you could lie, but… you don’t want to. Keeping your eyes on him, you pluck the whiskey from his grasp. You add high-handedly, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of cowboys before you. So many, you wouldn’t believe.’

A lazy smirk curls his lips as he watches you take a swig. ‘Sure, darlin’ - what with all the ranches you’ve been to.’

Dangling the bottle in front of his face in a challenge, you retaliate. ‘Never have I ever fancied a guest.’

Instead of reaching out with his fingers, Jack drags himself across the sleeping bag so he’s practically hovering over you to grab the whiskey. Echoing your words, he says, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of guests before you.’

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s so close you’re tempted to count the whiskers on his neatly trimmed beard.

‘It’s your turn, darlin’,’ rasps Jack, but you’re immobilsed by the brush of his calloused fingers against the tips of yours, planted on the sleeping bag.

You stammer, coming up blank. ‘Um - uh - never have I ever - ever -’

Jack gives you a crooked grin. ‘Need some help?’

Throat dry, you can only nod.

He leans in, his exhale hitting the shell of your ear, and he delivers the coup de grace. ‘Never have I ever touched myself thinking of said cowboy.’

Your eyes widen and you stop breathing. Oh fuck. He heard you. He knows. 

Turns out you weren’t quiet enough after all.

And yet - you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed, not when he’s staring you with something that looks a lot like reverence.

You realise you haven’t addressed the gauntlet he’s thrown down at your feet. Bringing the whiskey to your lips, you confess with a wet gulp of whiskey, the liquid sloshing hollowly in the almost empty bottle when you place it down next to you.

The tension thrums between the two of you like some quantum disturbance, one that’s been building and ebbing for the last forty-eight hours. The air grows thick, his eyes dropping to your mouth the same time his rough palm moves to cover the back of your hand, startling you. Misjudging his proximity, your nose knocks into his cheek when you turn your head, and a quiet gasp slips past your lips when you feel his hot breath brush the hollow of your neck -

So caught up in the moment, it takes you three long seconds to realise that the two of you have suddenly broken apart, and three more for your head to grasp why. 

The ringtone blaring from your phone is deafening in the tension-laden silence. Across the bright screen, your ex’s name flashes clearly. 

Motherfucking cockblocking asshole.

Before you can unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth to protest - or ask him to please stay - Jack has gotten onto his feet with a rueful smile and a shake of his head. Scooping up his sleeping bag and tucking it under one strong arm, he reaches for a bottle of water that he filled up earlier and places it next to your pillow, knowing that you’ll need it in the morning.

Even in the shadows, you can discern his eyes sliding over your face. His whispered words barely reach you as he turns on his heels. ‘Good night, darlin’.’

You let the call ring out.

It’s still dark when you feel a hand grip your shoulder, pulling you out of a shallow slumber.

‘Jack?’ you croak, rubbing your eyes that are sticky with sleep. ‘Is something wrong?’

He shakes his head with a reassuring smile that you can barely see in the din. ‘No, I just wanted to show you somethin’. Put on your shoes and bring your blanket, darlin’, it’s cold.’

Even wrapped up in fleece, you huddle into yourself as you follow him. He leads you past the dying fire and snoozing horses, a thermos in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of a battered thick denim jacket. 

You stumble when your feet catch on knots in the grass, and Jack reaches out to steady you, his reflexes fast even in this ungodly hour.

When your sight slowly adjusts to the darkness, you see that you’re approaching what you presume is Jack’s sleeping bag on the ground. He nudges you gently towards it with a quiet, ‘Make yourself comfortable, darlin’.’

You do, hugging your knees to your chest, your icy fingertips trying to find warmth under the  blanket. Jack settles down next to you, and noticing your shiver, he wraps his extra quilt around your shoulders.

‘Tea?’

‘Yes please.’

The thermos warms your hands as you hold it, hot steam hitting your face as you drink carefully so you don’t burn your tongue. You’re too groggy (and more than a bit hungover) to try to figure out what is going on, and Jack doesn’t enlighten you, happy to sit in the silence as you pass him the bottle. The tea burns a comforting trail down to your stomach, warming you from the inside.

You don’t have to wait long for what comes next.

It starts with the faintest of glows. The ghost of your breath misting in front of your face. The distant, backlit profile of the Bighorn. The outline of bush and flora, then the textures fill in as the light swells. And without warning, the dawn breaks, colour spilling across the field of wildflowers, like a light has been switched on. 

A light fog hangs in the air, gently refracting the morning rays into an iridescent sheen. In every direction, the ground is carpeted by a sea of summer blooms. It looks like a page ripped straight out of a book that starts with the age-old refrain of once upon a time. 

You turn to Jack. He’s watching you closely with a smile, hair sleep-mussed, the sunrise casting him in rose gold.

It might have been you. It might have been him. It might not matter in the grand scheme of things. 

The next thing you know, your shoulders bump and your lips meet. A sigh catches in your throat when he takes your lower lip between his, dragging slowly and sweetly, the wet friction and the tickle of his moustache on your Cupid’s bow chasing a shiver down your spine. 

When he pulls back, he traces the tip of his nose across your cheek before tucking it behind your ear, his arm closing in around your waist.

‘Happy birthday, darlin’.’

More notes: They're going to get to the Halfway House next chapter. Just FYI 👀 I've really made you guys wait for the smut for this one, I swear I didn't plan it this way, but here we are. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to psyche myself out because I haven't written any smut since Consent ended. But I'll worry about that later, for now, thank you for reading and for the wonderful feedback so far - comments and reblogs are so appreciated as always!

Horsey notes (optional reading): This part is a bit thin on horses so this is quite random. Horses love treats - carrots, apples and polo mints will all be devoured. Make sure the treats aren't cut too small to encourage horses to chew before they swallow. Carrots can be broken into 2 or 3 pieces, and should be fed horizontally instead of vertically, to encourage chewing. Apples can be quartered or halved. When feeding, stretch out your hand flat, don't curl up your fingers or you can accidentally get bitten!

[likeholymary]

Don’t Blame Me

PART 1: RETURN

Series Summary: After coming back to Starling City from Gotham two years ago after the death of your parents, you come back to take care of your younger brother and perhaps even help the city you once loved. But now Oliver Queen has returned, and he has changed. Will you help save the city, or will you watch another ride to take your place?

word count: 2,074 words and 11,247 characters

pairing: Oliver Queen x reader, slight Bruce Wayne x reader

a/n: starts in season 1, episode 1. note: everything that occurred in the film batman begins occurred five years prior to the events in this imagine series. gif isn’t mine, if yours please lemme know:)

(Y/N) = Your Name

(H/C) = Hair Color

(H/T) = Hair Type

(E/C) = Eye Color

The air was different that day. Call it fate, but you knew that something was about to change the tides of Starling City. And that something was Oliver Queen. That day, he returned to Starling City a survivor. And you couldn’t have been more confused.

There was no way he should have been alive. And yet there he was. You watched from your television screen, shaking your head as you stirred cream and sugar into your coffee and then going to pick up your phone, dialing an all to familiar number.

“Hey, can we talk?”

.

Later that week, you got an invitation in the mail. Opening it up to see what event you could be invited to next, you rolled your eyes. Tommy had invited you to Oliver’s return party and you couldn’t help but feel curious. You wanted to get your hands on the Queen and demand all the answers to where he was, what he did, why.

Oliver, Tommy and you had all been close friends as children, growing up together because your parents were all friends. Your parents were famous scientists who worked for Queen Consolidated, but after the death of Tommy’s mother you all grew apart. You were all three bound to grow apart. That’s what happens to friends who grow up together, every single damn time.

Either way, you got sick of how they both drank too much and hooked up with girls only to break them. Now, you had nothing against the drinking, it was just the excessiveness of it all. They weren’t people. They were just sacks of meat with too much liquor inside them.

You held the fine piece of paper between your fingers, considering what you wanted to do before biting your lip and putting a reminder in your phone. Just then, your little brother Jack Will walked into the room, sitting on the bar stool in front of you.

“What’ve you got there?” He asked curiously, raising a brow at you. Snatching the invitation from your hands, he looked over at it with his careful big blue eyes. “Oo, a party. Can I come?” You laughed at your little brother, who was only twelve years old, messing with his curly hair.

“Definitely not this one, Jackie. Too much booze, maybe the next one.” He groaned, attempting to fix his already messy hair. “The other parties you go to are already so boring though,” he stated simply with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, and like your Star Wars parties are much better?” You retorted, with a snicker. He gasped, and pointed a finger at you. “You love those parties and you know it!” You made a noise that essentially said, ‘Do I though?’ even though, to be completely honest you did. It brought back simple, happy memories of when you were young and you loved it.

Looking at your watch you realized that the party was tonight. Cursing under your breath, you grabbed your phone calling one of Jack’s friends moms. The line dialed for a moment before someone picked up on the other end. “Hello, this is Carol?”

“Hi Carol, it’s (Y/N), I’m sorry to be calling so last minute, but there’s a function I have to attend to tonight, and I was wondering if Jack could come over?”

“Yes, of course! Jack is always welcome here.”

“Oh, thank you so much! I’ll drop him off at 7.”

“Sounds great!”

You set your phone down, looking up at your little brother as he shook his head. “You’re the most fake person I’ve ever met.”

You gawked, laughing. “What do you mean?”

“‘Oh, Carol thank you so much! You’re the most blessed soul to ever walk this earth! I love you, Carol!’” Jack mocked. Your mouth hung wide before you smacked him lightly on the head.

“You’re such a brat.” The two of you laughed before going to get ready for the day ahead.

Later that evening you dropped Jack off at the Lander’s home before running back home to get ready. The party was at 9 after all, and they lived about ten minutes away so it wasn’t too much of a rush for yourself. After doing your hair and makeup, you slipped on your black two piece dress and a pair of heels, before getting into your car and driving to the party.

On the way there, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were going. Well, you knew one reason at least. Earlier that day your best friend Laurel had called you and asked if you could go to give her some emotional support should she need it. You’d been best friends for the past two years, after you moved back to Starling City from Gotham after your parents mysteriously died in a freak accident in the lab.

You continued at your job at Wayne Enterprises, still wanting to keep doing what you loved. Moving cities was hard, you missed Lucius Fox, your mentor, and felt you had too deep of a secret on your heart to not continue at your job. So, instead, you continued your work in the Applied Sciences division, just in a different city. Queen Consolidated was one of Wayne Enterprises largest competitors, and you constantly got asked by Moira and Walter to go work for them instead in the head department. You would always decline though; Wayne Enterprises, whether it be in Gotham or you home city, was your place. You always called Lucius for help when you were working on a more advanced project that needed fixing to, or when you were just having troubles with life, especially when it related to raising Jack Will. Occasionally you would even go back to Gotham for a “work” trip, whenever Lucius wanted your hands on a secret set of projects. You didn’t mind though, it was always such fun to bring Jack with you to one of your favorite cities, and he always loved hanging out with your friends.

As you entered the building, you immediately went to the bar where you ran into Tommy. Smirking down at your smaller frame, he handed you a glass of whiskey that you quickly downed. “Woah, there horsey. Take it easy.” He stated with a chuckle, putting a hand on your waist. You quickly smacked his arm, shooting him a glare. Murmuring an apology, he awkwardly coughed before stating, “I actually didn’t expect you to be here, considering..”

“Considering neither of you were really my friends anymore before he died?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Tommy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, leaning on the edge of the bar as he looked at you. “(Y/N),I’m really sorry we weren’t friends with you… we were both immature and we —“ “Left me behind.” “Yes.. And I’m personally sorry I never told you how sorry I am about your parents.. I understand.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you fought them back. “Thanks, Tommy. I-uhm, I think I’m going to go find Laurel.”

You quickly rushed off, wiping tears from your blinding eyes, blinking hard and wishing the pain would all go away. The drink in your body gave you a little buzz, but you weren’t even nearly tipsy yet. The people around you still began to blur, and soon enough you ran into another person. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you looked up to see that the muscled and tough body you had run into was that of Oliver Queen’s himself.

Sniffling lightly, you almost gaped trying to let words form on your lips but Oliver beat you to it. “(Y/N)? (Y/N) Reid?” Oliver chuckled lightly, looking down at you with that all too familiar smirk. Yet this time, his eyes were different. Somehow harder, colder, harsher, deadlier. They reminded you of — your thoughts however were interrupted when Oliver snapped his fingers in front your eyes. “(Y/N)? Are you alright?” You shook you head so as to clear it before plastering on a soft smile. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking. It’s just.. it’s so weird to have you back.”

Oliver nodded solemnly but still had a small smile on his face. “But it is good to be back. And you, I didn’t think you’d be here. Tommy told me you’d been living in Gotham but moved back recently.”

“Well, two years ago, but yes, I left after my parents died.”

He looked taken aback for a moment. “Tommy didn’t tell me that.. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s alright, I’m used to them being gone. Jack Will isn’t, but he’s still adjusting.”

He then looked over your head, seeing someone else. Typical. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he said, “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I would love to stay and chat, but please. Call me sometime. I’d love to grab coffee with you.” Nodding your head, you just stood to the side, watching him walk away before thinking to yourself.

Oliver Queen wants to see me again?

.

Weeks had passed and nothing. You had texted Oliver to let him know it was you, but no response. You tried not to think about it, but every once and awhile he’d plague your thoughts. But that wasn’t the only thing. The “Hood” as people now called the green hooded protector of the city was running around, hurting wealthy criminals of the city, most whom the firm and Laurel were trying to get to confess for their crimes.

One day, however, while you were working you got a call from one Oliver Queen. “Hello?” “Hi, (Y/N).. I was wondering if we could talk. Today.” Well that was sudden. “Um, sure, yeah, I think I could get out around four. Where?” “My place, 4:30 sound good?” “Uh, yeah yeah, sure, I’ll be there.”

Hanging up the telephone, you sat for a moment, wondering why he had called. What could he possibly have to say to you? It wasn’t like you were friends..

Snapping out of it, you quickly texted your little brother, letting him know that you’d be home around 6 but, he needed a ride home after school, and that you’d also bring home whatever he wanted for dinner. Jack Will gladly accepted, going on his way to ask happily why you’d be out later than usual. Quickly texting back telling him you’d tell him later, you put your phone away before going back to working on your project.

.

It was 4:26 and you rolled up to the gate of the Queen Mansion. It was just as you remembered it. Wide stones lining up the side of the house with vines draping themselves against the rocks. As you got out of your car, you noticed that Oliver was outside standing by a tree and two graves.

You hesitantly walked towards him, standing by the tree so as not to disturb him. He looked up at you, just as you turned to look at him, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Hi there,(Y/N),” he began. “I thought I’d just come out here and visit my own grave, ya know?”

You shook your head softly, beginning to slowly stride over to him. “I don’t think I’d know, considering I’ve never been a castaway like you.”

Silence fell between the two of you, and you looked towards the ground, standing beside him as the two of you looked at his grave. “Why am I here?” You asked, as you looked up at him. “It’s not like we were really friends before, so why? Why now?”

He looked down at you, taking you in, your (H/C) (H/T) locks, before staring into your (E/C) eyes. “Because,” he started, reaching out to graze your arm with his finger tips. “I need someone. A friend. I need someone to trust. I don’t know anyone anymore.. but you. You’re the same. Kind and sarcastic, but still.. you haven’t changed. You’re still the tough girl I knew as a boy. A foolish boy, but I want you to know I’m sorry..” You stopped him there.

“Oliver. You still don’t know me. I’ve changed. I’m not the little girl who played with boys you knew when we were kids. I’m me. Which isn’t the same girl. And if you think that I’m still the same.. you’re sorely wrong.”

a/n: ahhhh so that’s the first one !!! sorry if it sucks, this is my very first imagine. i hope you like it and also your fc is phoebe tonkin annnddd it’s the first in an even broader series as well;) look out for the bruce wayne and barry allen ones as well !! also, who is the mysterious man you were on the phone with earlier ?? what did you do in gotham ? will you become his friend ?? what haPPENED TO YOUR PARENTS !?!! please comment or request anything you want to see in this series, or even another stand alone imagine ! also yes, i did name your lil brother after the character from wonder, bless that movie and that child. much love, xx

[neroli9]

For Reader and Sans - kinda jumping off from that boobs or butt question - do either of you have any particular attraction to monster features? Horns, teeth, height, uhh... slime? Anything. Sans should divulge as much about his sexual past for this question as possible. :)

Sans raises an eyebrow. “i should, huh? well, lemme see. i didn’t always have a human fetish. but there wasn’t any one common thread between any partners i’ve had before. monsters tend to be capable of a wide range of attraction. some even to humans, although you’d be surprised how many monsters feel that’s bizarre. that’s all it’s possible for me to say on the subject.” He winks.

“I, um…” Reader shifts uncomfortably in her seat, looking to the side. “The teeth can be sexy, I guess…” She glances at Sans, who flashes her a toothy grin. “And, uh… I was really scared of the fire ones, at first, but actually they can make it so it feels, uh… kind of nice. And… same with the icy ones, they felt cool and slippery, I worried my tongue would get stuck to them or something but…” Sans raises an eyebrow. “There were some with muscles, it was kind of nice to see something familiar, even when they were like some sort of demon or… horsey-fishey kind of monster. I felt like, muscles! I know what to do with those!” She brightens as she continues “Actually, the guy who looked like a big, muscly demon, he was actually pretty –”

“great answer. next question. c'mon, we’ll never get through'em at this rate.”

(Still taking questions for the APJFM cast!)

[flickerbit]

riah goes OFF

okay so i never really made a post talking about the g5 leaks from december :o i really like them! the series definitely needs a change and switching up the mane six species is a good way to do that. the only one i didn’t really like (at least from this concept anyway) was applejack’s:

like...she’s a farm pony! why is she all dressed up like that and all shiny :( her colors should def be muted but ofc this is just one leak. i really like the other ones for her

lemme just say that it looks like the designers had a LOT of fun with these lmao. they definitely captured applejack more here. not saying that the other design was bad! it just didn’t seem to fit as much 

i really love the idea of making the designs more complex as long as the creators devote that kind of attention to the other ponies in the show. it would look kind of weird if the mane six was all spruced up like this and the background ponies were the same old two-toned cookie cutter characters we’ve grown accustomed to seeing (not as much in recent seasons tho. you can tell that there’s more effort being put into the designs of background ponies in their manes and clothing, especially in canterlot and manehattan)

honestly the only style choices out of this concept art that i would like to point out is not to go overboard. it’s awesome to have fun and go over the top but a super complicated design (like row 2 or row 6 rainbow dash) would be harder to animate and harder to look at for long periods of time. especially if the surroundings are just as extravagant. probably my favorite designs out of this leak are row six pinkie pie, row six applejack, and row five twilight owo the lil pink underside under row six twilight’s tail is so fucking cute too...i also love the colors in row six fluttershy, but that big hair and hoof gradients and little accessories all in one design might be overdoing a bit, since she’s so naturey. i feel like she would look simpler as if she lives in the forest. i would even go as far as to say that seeing her as an earth pony would be a pretty good idea. if any design would be over the top or loud, it would be pinkie pie’s or rarity’s! 

as for g5′s approach stylistically, i really want to see a change in how the ponies are drawn. the cute button noses and slim physiques are cute and all, but keeping them the same for the next generation would be bland and unfortunate. i would really love to see them look more like actual ponies, more like g1 

like...this is adorable! they look more like actual ponies! sure, the current designs are cute, but you don’t really see them as...actual ponies, really. seeing ponies that are more horsey act sentient and do things is more endearing and fun imo. i do love the designs we have now in g4 but it would be such a treat to see something more g1 or even g3 adjacent in g5. of course it’s harder to compare with g2 since that was strictly toys (take g1 and just make them Long), but i digress. g3 i’m not as keen on, only because since it was marketed towards little girls there was way too much pink and way too many hearts for my taste. g3.5 is probably strays away from actual pony design the most besides g4, what with those massive hooves and heads. but what can i say, it was a show for little girls, you gotta make everything cute and (relatively) pleasing to look at.

but yeah besides the art direction for g5. when it comes to the writing...idk. i’ve been rewatching mlp fim lately and i’m starting to notice the quality decrease that people have been talking about. of course, it’s not bad enough to make me stray away from the show, but comparing season 8 to season 3 or 4 is...something alright. don’t get me wrong, i’m still totally invested and probably will be right up until fim ends after season 9. but the whole school of friendship thing...really? it felt like a copout to make things more interesting. sure, it’s super fitting to make twilight a teacher (idk how i feel about having the other mane six as teachers tho like...they have lives) and it’s a good idea to make more creatures interact with each other, but it really feels like a last ditch effort to shake things up a bit. (props to the artists tho, that’s gorgeous)

also like...pleeeaaase don’t reform chrysalis. we’ve known her as a villain since the season 2 finale (holy fuck since 2011) and i would be really disappointed if she gets reformed just like discord, nightmare moon, and starlight glimmer...the only others who weren’t were sombra and the storm king ofc. but they’re not as...idk, whole? as characters as chrysalis is. she’s driven, she’s mad, and she used to be great before her subjects betrayed her thanks to starlight. i swear to god if starlight ends up reforming her with the magic of friendship i will eat my own arm

i won’t lie tho this proposed reformed chrissy design is cute as hell

but yeah there’s my ramble. if you read this i love you so much and i hope you have a lovely day/night <3