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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

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IX ║ Warmblood

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 8: Silver Pony | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: The hardest goodbye you'll ever say.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, sexual innuendoes, semi-pubic sex, oral sex (F receiving), risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7.6k

Notes: Here we are, at the end of the longest packtrip ever, and we did it with only one (1) little meltdown last night 😜 More notes at the end, but I just want to say - this has been a once-in-a-lifetime story for me. If a fic can be a soulmate, Palomino is mine.

Thank you for coming on this journey with me, I love every single one of you ❤️ Last thing, I never do this, but I must insist that you play this song when you get there. You'll know when 🥹

Warmblood: An athletic, agile horse that is noted for its trainability and usually calm temperament, is commonly used in equestrian competition, and typically possesses Thoroughbred, Arabian, and draft horse bloodlines.

Your awakening is gentle, soft and blurry around the edges, as if you’re looking through the lens of a Polaroid camera, tinted in sepia. The morning hour creeps across the ceiling of Jack’s bedroom in equal parts light and shadow, the curtains having been left undrawn last night. A crack in the window lets in the faintest breeze, but mutes all the sounds you’ve grown used to seeking out first thing in the morning, when your eyelids are too heavy to lift.

The hum of flying things, feathered or otherwise, charting their flight paths in your head by the buzz of their wings. The brush of the wind like a hand combing through grass and meadow. Even the sun speaks in the morning, raw energy strumming between constantly shifting air particles.

This stillness comes off as almost - unnatural. Even when straddling the divide between sleep and wake, you feel yourself making tiny adjustments to the physicality of being indoors again. Regret stains the corners of your consciousness, knowing it won’t take you long to recalibrate. Your body will return to what it knows, shedding your once-upon-a-time existence in the mountains like a coat discarded at the turn of the season.

When the mattress dips behind you, sensation floods your veins like a shock to the system, flushing out the pins and needles in your limbs that you haven’t even noticed. Jack is warm and solid behind you, where he belongs. One leg nudged between yours, his sun-kissed arm across your waist, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the edge. His breath whistles sweetly over the shell of your ear, and you smile. You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know that his mouth is parted in slumber.

The next time you come to, it’s the rude buzz of metal on wood that jolts you out of sleep. You squeak when Jack follows, almost inadvertently shoving you off the bed as he startles awake. But thankfully, his instincts are fully intact, and he catches you squarely in the stomach, biceps flexing as he pulls you back into his chest with an easy strength.

‘Sorry, darlin’,’ he rasps groggily, burying his face in your neck in an apology. You uncoil in a languid stretch, opening up your throat to the rough scratch of his moustache, wanting to feel the burn.

‘Phone, cowboy,’ you gripe when the vibration doesn’t stop.

With a heave-ho, Jack reaches over you to grab it, before falling back onto the mattress so heavily that the bedframe shakes. Rubbing his thumb and index finger over his eyes, he grouses into the receiver, ‘What?’

Teak’s voice on the other line is clear as day even though he’s not on speaker. ‘Where are you, man?’

You burrow into Jack’s side, and the wide span of his palm on your hip holds you to him possessively. ‘Where do you think I am?’

‘Listen. Poppy made sausage gravy and buttermilk pancakes. Y’all know what that means.’

You venture a peek at Jack, whose lips are pursed thoughtfully. You prompt, ‘What does it mean?’

He smiles down at you. ‘She really likes you, darlin’.’

Teak interrupts with a scoff. ‘Like her? She’s basically adopting you, sunshine!’

Your lips wobble - if you soften any further, you might melt into the mattress. ‘Oh, Poppy.’

‘Look, I’ve been stallin’ them, but they’re fixin’ to break down her door. You lovebirds best get here quick!’

Tossing away his phone without a goodbye, Jack drops a kiss to your forehead. ‘Listen, we don’t have to go anywhere, you stay here and I’ll make you - cereal in bed?’ He pauses with a wince. ‘Actually, I’m outta milk. And cereal.’

You chuckle, reaching up to run your fingers through his endearingly askew bed hair. ‘It’s ok, cowboy, we should go. I need to pack anyway.’

Your tummy takes the inopportune moment to rumble audibly, and he pins you with a knowing look. ‘And you want that sausage gravy, don’t you?’

‘Shut up,’ you laugh, pushing him off the bed.

When you step out of Jack’s bedroom in last night’s clothes after a quick refresh in his neat ensuite, he’s already outside, warming up the Silver Pony.

The house is even cosier in the morning. Facing east, daylight fills every corner of every room, bringing out the patterns in the wooden panels. Your gaze lingers where you can’t. You want to study the cracked spines of the paperbacks on his bookshelf one by one, you want to press your nose into the shirts hanging in his closet, you want to peer around the door to a second room that is temptingly ajar -

‘Darlin’?’

You look up, and Christ on a cracker - it’s downright unfair that even after a week of spending every waking minute together, this damn cowboy can still make your heart skip a beat just by standing.

Jack is on the doorstep, in what you assume is his ‘off-duty’ uniform. Instead of a plaid shirt, he’s wearing a simple white tshirt with a round neck that is decidedly not sweat- nor dirt-friendly, tucked loosely into the waistband of dark jeans that look a bit more polished, and if you would believe it, even tighter than the pair he wears in the saddle. While it’s business as usual with the Stetson and work boots, something unfamiliar hangs from the neckline of his top.

Plucking the gold-rimmed aviators from his tshirt, you slide them onto your face, winking at him through the tinted lens. ‘Nice shades. Gotta say, I didn’t peg you for such a snazzy dresser off the trail.’

He grins, all tidy teeth with a deliberately libertine edge, clearly enjoying the attention. Scooping you into his broad frame, he drawls, ‘Gotta look good for the ladies in town, y’know. They’re famished ‘cause you been hoardin’ me all week, darlin’.’

With an exaggerated huff, you elbow past him. ‘I don’t know how you manage to zip your ego into those tightass pants, cowboy!’

‘With lots of practice,’ he retorts, smacking you firmly on the backside.

‘Do you need your sunnies?’ you ask as you climb onto the Silver Pony behind him, pushing the aviators a bit higher on your nose where they’ve slid down.

He shrugs. ‘Keep ‘em. Gives you a reason to come back.’

You smile into his broad shoulders, palms sliding to interlock over his soft belly. The bike revs, startling a flock of birds into flight from a nearby tree, and you realise those six little words are the first to breach the subject of what comes after - which will come to be in a matter of hours, with your flight in the early afternoon, a prospect suddenly so frighteningly real.

But in the same breath, it becomes blindingly clear that you don’t even need to hear the words.

Because you know there is a space for you in his bed, tucked into his body, curled around you. A spot for you under his arm resting on the back of his couch in the living room, in front of a woodfire when it snows outside. A seat for you at the back of his motorcycle, where you are now, breezing effortlessly downhill towards the ranch, the white fences and red roofs winking at you between the gaps in the trees that line the winding country roads.

When you dream in the months to come, you will always smell pine, white cotton, and well-worn leather as the Silver Pony carries you home.

It’s a shorter drive than you remember. Jack’s watch reads just past half eight when you pull into the parking lot. He kills the engine as you dismount, passing him your star-spangled helmet to be returned to its place in the little cabinet for next time. You’ve turned on your heel towards the ranch when a hand on your wrist grounds you to the spot.

Hands that have made you feel safe, protected, wanted in turn over the past week.

There’s no fanfare, no declarations, as you watch Jack lace his fingers with yours, filling the gaps and the tips curling into the valleys between your knuckles. Palm to weathered palm, calloused from ropework and heavy lifting, you look up to meet his eyes.

He peers at you, almost shyly, an incomprehensible notion after all that he’s done to you, and what you’ve done to him, across the expanse of the Wyoming wilderness. But there’s a chastity to this simple action, and you find your throat tight when he asks, ‘Is this ok, darlin’?’

Your heart swells, as if it’s going to grow claws and tear itself right out of your chest cavity. Bringing up your tangled hands, you brush a kiss across his knuckles, and his whole countenance lifts with the upward curl of his mouth.

‘Yes, cowboy.’

The Statesman is putting on a show for your last morning. The sun is out, climbing high into the cloudless sky, with Jack’s aviators bearing the brunt of the harsh glare. It’s déjà vu when you retrace the path you took on the day of your arrival, the same crunch of gravel under your boots, the familiar scent of hay and horse on the breeze.

The bird’s eye view of the ranch has your breath stuttering just like that first time you cast your gaze on the green pastures and the red roofs. And beyond, like a perfectly painted stage set piece, the Bighorns loom tall and majestic. You’ve seen the mountains in all their incarnations over the past week - they change colour as the sun and clouds move during the day, and sometimes, you swear they morph in shape too.

It strikes you suddenly that just yesterday, you were but three specks moving across the vast landscape, the realisation almost bowling you over.

Before all this, it wouldn’t have taken much to convince yourself that you don’t deserve it. That it was the horses doing all the legwork and Jack the navigating, that you haven’t really done anything but sit in the saddle. But something’s shifted, it’s been a baptism by long summer days and the great outdoors - and damn it all, you’re proud of yourself.

You came on this trip alone, with nothing but a broken relationship behind you, a suitcase full of anxieties and riding gear covered in years of dust and neglect. You said yes, perhaps recklessly, when offered the chance to spend a week alone in the mountains with a complete stranger and the glamour of sleeping bags and portable showers, when it would’ve been easier (and certainly more comfortable) to turn it down.

Somehow, you’ve come out the other end, long gallops over untouched grassland and starry campfire nights piecing you back together, only to fall so damn hard for this cowboy that you’re sure to break again when you get on that plane this afternoon -

An unexpected tug on your arm has you tumbling clumsily. ‘Jack!’

He arches an eyebrow and remarks, ‘Ain’t heard those cogs in your pretty head grind that loud since the first coupl'a days, darlin’.’

You shrug and, not wanting to sour the mood, deflect his attention with a lighthearted fib. ‘Just realised that I didn’t even come close to falling off once the entire week.’

When he chuckles, the thought comes to you that you’ll miss the way he laughs with his whole body.

‘You did real good for your first rodeo,’ he pauses, then flashes you a lascivious smirk. ‘You ain’t bad at ridin’ bareback either.’

A rebuke of his crude quip is on the tip of your tongue, but then your nose picks up on the scent of bitter coffee and maple syrup, which is quickly followed by the sighting of the al fresco table set up not far from the grill last night, the singe of smoke and whiskey still hanging in the air.

From a distance, you can see Poppy and Champ engaged in what looks like a heated debate, both gesticulating wildly with fork and knife. On the opposite side of the table, an unbothered Teak mows down his breakfast as if he’s heard it all before, and Ginger is feeding Jameson pancakes under the table.

It’s the younger cowboy who spots you two first. He freezes, brows disappearing under the brim of his Stetson when his eyes flit downwards to your interlocked hands. A huge grin would’ve split his handsome face in two if his mouth wasn’t stuffed full of half-chewed pancakes. The beans are well and truly spilled when Jameson comes bounding over, barking his demands for morning cuddles.

Champ looks up, his argument with Poppy promptly dropped. ‘Aha! There she is! Howdy young lady, we were just wonderin’ where you -’

He halts mid-sentence, his head whipping towards his right where the guest lodges are situated beyond the stables, decidedly not the direction you’re coming from. The penny drops as he takes in your hand in Jack’s, eyes wide, and all the occupants of the table seem to inhale a collective breath that stops you in your tracks.

But not Jack. He ignores the gawking with a practised air of been there, done that, and ushers you into the empty seat next to Teak without skipping a beat. Planting a sweet peck on your cheek, he settles to your left and unfolds his starched napkin with a flourished flick of his wrist, which he tucks into the neckline of his tshirt.

‘Mornin’,’ he addresses the silent table in an exaggerated southern drawl. ‘If y’all would be so kind to shut your mouths, you’re embarrassin’ me in front of my lady. Now, pass the coffee if you please, Teak.’

Fittingly, it’s Champ who breaks the silence with a rip-roaring howl of laughter, palms hitting the table so hard you’re convinced everything on it jumps a foot from the surface, the ruckus sending Jameson scampering for cover. ‘Well, well, well! Butter my butt and call it a biscuit!’

Poppy leaps to her feet, halfway to the kitchen before shouting over her shoulder. ‘We’re celebrating! This calls for strawberry milkshake!’

Teak elbows you in the side. ‘Just so y’know, Poppy ain’t the type to make strawberry milkshake for just anybody.’ He salutes you with a crooked grin. ‘Welcome to the family, sweetheart.’

It’s a brand of chaos that is distinctly Statesman. Ginger and Champ are fighting each other to load up your plate with far too much food over your protests, Teak pours coffee into your glass and orange juice in the mug, and Jameson is probing your knees under the table for scraps. You meet Jack’s eyes, and he grins back at you with a wink over the rim of his cup.

There’s no reason why you should be this hungry after the barbeque last night, but you don’t stop until you’ve polished off the sausage gravy and biscuits, the welcome richness settling in the pit of your stomach and making you second guess if you have any room left for pancakes.

‘Young lady, I hope this means you forgive me for the strings I pulled to set you two up,’ pipes up Champ around a mouthful of bacon, washed down by black coffee.

‘You’ll hear no complaints from me, sir,’ you reassure him.

He raises a fist in a pantomime of indignation. ‘You wouldn’t believe the grief Jack and Ginger put me through for playin’ matchmaker! I demand a retraction from y’all!’

Ginger raises both hands in surrender. ‘Fine, I take it all back, even if it means you’ll be downright insufferable about it! But I’ll happily live with that!'

Jack slings an arm around your shoulder. ‘It kills me to say it, but you have damn good taste, boss.’

‘Well, y’all know what they say - ain’t a pot too crooked that a lid won’t fit!’ needles Teak.

‘Hey!’ You reach across to slap him on the arm as Jack chuckles behind you. ‘I don’t see you with a lid, you loud-mouthed kettle!’

Teak sasses back, ‘Fine, fine, how ‘bout - there ain’t a man that can’t be thrown, or a cowboy that can’t be rode -’

Right on cue, Poppy’s distant shout interrupts, ‘Tequila!’

Jumping onto his feet, the cowboy winks at you. ‘Hold that thought, sunshine - right away, ma’am!’

Unperturbed by the double entendres, Champ brings the conversation right back around. ‘Well, I do declare, this nosy old man gets it right -’

‘For once!’ heckles Ginger.

‘Joke’s on you, m’dear. I only need to be right once!’

There are oohs and ahhs when Poppy and Teak reappear with the decadent milkshakes in retro fountain glasses, topped with whipped cream and strawberry slices, distributed around the table.

‘So, what are we drinking to?’ asks Poppy.

You turn to Jack, holding up your milkshake. ‘To crooked pots.’

There are cheers and laughs up and down the table, and Jack clinks your glass with a grin as he adds, ‘And cowboys that can be rode.’

You think about the cassette tapes that you used to watch when you were young. How at the end of a film, the black tape is all rolled up in the right window, and you were always the one to press the rewind button on the VCR. You still remember the whirr of the film as it went backwards, round and round, right back to the beginning.

When the coffee has gone cold and the morning chores come calling, the breakfast table empties, and you hear the click of that button when Jack offers you his upturned palm to walk you back to your cabin.

The tape rewinds as you pack. The outfit you agonised over that first day or your introductory ride with the cowboy has been laundered, and you slowly fold up each piece - the jodhpurs, the plaid shirt, the socks - and put them into your open suitcase.

The tape rewinds as you close the door to the cabin, and Jack carries your luggage across the yard in one hand, yours nestled snugly in his other.

The tape rewinds as you walk by the stables - you nip in quickly to say goodbye to Whiskey and Bourbon - past the main lodge, and the grazing field next to the parking lot.

Putting your suitcase down, Jack whistles with his fingers, the sound carrying in the wind. You see a familiar golden head pop up from across the field, and your nose prickles with the threat of tears as you watch Scotch canter towards you, ears forward and tail swishing with an attitude you can spot from a mile away. Climbing onto the first rung of the fence, you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his snowy mane as he snoops around your pockets, always looking for treats.

You pull an apple out of your travel bag, neatly cut in two. Scotch nickers, his velvety nuzzle tickles as he carefully plucks each half from your palm.

Combing through his forelock, you coo at him, ‘I’m gonna miss you, boy. You behave with your rider next week, you hear me?’

The key is already in the ignition of your rental pickup when Champ puts your suitcase and tote bag on the backseat floor, while Teak and Jack load the Silver Pony onto the back.

Your arm almost falls out of its socket when Poppy passes you the promised takeaway lunch, packed into a chiller bag.

‘You’re flying Delta right?’ she asks. ‘I’ll call them up with instructions on how to heat up the food. It’ll be good as fresh off the barbeque.’

‘Thank you so, so much Poppy,’ you say as she pulls you into a warm hug. ‘I hope you know you’ve ruined food for me. Nothing will ever come close to being good enough.’

She winks. ‘You’re welcome, honey. Come back soon, ok? There’s more where it came from!’

Ginger is next, and emotion clutches at your chest as you squeeze her slender frame in a tight embrace. ‘Just so you know, I was furious that you wouldn’t give me a refund when I called you up all those months ago.’

‘What can I say? I’m a tough cookie,’ she giggles, and hangs onto you for just a moment longer. ‘I’m so glad you didn’t cancel on us.’

Champ surprises you, forgoing your outstretched hand and giving you a hug for the first time. His tweed suit is softer than expected under your cheek, and smells like pipeweed and leather.

‘It’s been an absolute pleasure, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you again very soon,’ he winks. ‘And I’ll be in touch about the social media.’

Three steps away, Teak is waiting with his arms crossed, and he pushes off the truck to bundle you into his embrace, the hug as big and as bear-like as him, which makes you chuckle.

‘Anything parting Southern wisdom for me?’ you quip.

‘I’m all out, sweetheart,’ he says, giving you a pat on the back. ‘’Cept, y’know, that cowboy’s been grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet ‘tater all week, and it’s damn annoyin’.’

Jack rolls his eyes, one palm on your back as he herds you towards the truck. ‘C’mon, darlin’, we should make a move.’

Saving himself for last, Jameson trots up to you with a bark, tail wagging. The grass is warm and tickles your bare knees when you crouch down to give him one last hug, giggling at the wet kiss he leaves on your cheek.

The leather of the passenger seat is soft as you sink down into it, while Jack closes the door behind you and crosses to the driver’s side. Inhaling deeply as the engine starts with a rusty rumble, you look up when he gives your hand a grounding squeeze.

‘Ready, darlin’?’

You nod, though not entirely convincingly. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’

The Statesman gets smaller and smaller behind you as the truck eases down the driveway, and the four figures waving in the rearview mirror blur into tiny shadows through the mist of your tears. The metal frame of the vehicle squeaks with the movement as it rolls over bumps on the long dirt track, at the end of which, Jack takes a right with a one-handed turn of the steering wheel onto the main road, and the ranch slips out of sight.

The midday sun streams through the windshield, hot on your skin. You’re glad you changed out of the jeans from last night into a lightweight dress, a slightly frivolous last-minute addition to your luggage that’s paid off.

Staring out of the open window at the rolling landscape, it takes you right back to exactly eight days ago when you were driving down the dusty road - except this time, the Bighorn Mountains are behind you, and next to you is a cowboy instead of an empty seat.

Unabashedly, you watch him drive. His right hand is woven in yours, disengaging only to shift gears every now and then. Under the brim of his hat, his eyes are on the road, occasionally darting sideways to find himself on the receiving end of your attention.

It’s certainly an adjustment to see him in the driver’s seat after a week in the saddle - Whiskey’s, then the Silver Pony’s. But it doesn’t matter, there’s no mistaking the competence behind his every movement, be it to ease his horse to a slower gait with the lightest closing of his fingers on the leather reins, or to redirect the truck with an effortless palm on the steering wheel -

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ he drawls, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.

‘Not long enough,’ you grumble, shuffling in close.

He half-turns, moustache brushing your temple as he murmurs, ‘Have I told you that you look beautiful in that dress?’

You press a secret smile into his shoulder. ‘You sure you don’t prefer me in jodhpurs?’

Untangling his fingers to slide blunt nails under the hem of your dress and up the inside of your leg, he replies diplomatically, ‘I can see pros and cons to both.’

Your breath hitches with a warning, but the instinctive parting of your thighs gives you away. ‘Cowboy -’

You startle at what sounds like a sudden crack of thunder, but it turns out to be an enormous interstate truck charging down the opposite lane. In a panic, your knees snap shut, trapping Jack’s wandering hand between the soft cushion of your legs. To your chagrin, he makes a point of waving to the driver as he passes by.

‘Jack, he definitely saw your hand up my dress!’ you chide.

He flashes you a knowing smirk, and you shudder when he digs into the meat of your thigh with a firm squeeze. ‘Somethin’ tells me you enjoyed that, darlin’.’

Your mouth opens, ready to object, but a familiar heat warms the back of your neck the same time your throat goes dry. It’s the same thrill from last night, in the cellar, not knowing if you’ll get caught bent over a whiskey cask, jeans pulled down just enough so that this cowboy could bury his cock deep inside you.

Despite yourself, you shift in your seat, and Jack’s knuckles scrape the fast dampening seat of your panties. Choking on a strangled noise, he turns his wrist so that he can rub the outline of your folds through the thin fabric, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. ‘Fuck. I feel that, darlin’.’

Another car comes down the opposite lane, a smaller sedan this time, and you’re bold enough to spread your thighs, letting him slip under your panties.

The car swerves sharply as hisses at the wetness he finds, fingertip gliding slickly between the lips of your pussy, smearing the mess all over as your hips rock into the contact.

Through gritted teeth, Jack groans, ‘Darlin’, you’re soaked for me.’

‘Pull over. Now.’

He does - parking haphazardly behind a tree, barely a couple of yards off the main road before killing the ignition.

You mount him immediately, throwing your right leg over his lap as if pulling yourself into the saddle, the pain an afterthought when your knee jams into the control panel on the door in your haste. Jack grunts as your hips slot flush against his, his usual composure nowhere to be found as he’s caught between undoing his seatbelt, pushing your dress up and scrabbling down the sides of the driver’s seat for the adjustment lever.

The sudden recline of the seatback pulls a squeak from you while knocking Jack’s hat clean off, and you follow to claim his lips in a messy kiss as he palms the swell of your ass.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he bites out, rocking up against your pussy, head thrown back. ‘You’re so fuckin’ sexy.’

He doesn't question you when you climb over him, taking the chance to scrape open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead - and when you sit back down on your haunches, his pupils blow wide at the sight of you wearing his hat and a flirtatious grin.

‘How about now, cowboy?’ you tease.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing hard as his eyes darken. ‘You’ll look even better sittin’ on my face, darlin’.’

Your jaw goes slack. ‘Jack -’

‘I want to taste you one more time. Need to. Please.’

Something breaks loose inside you, unhinges, and you crawl over the length of his lean body to steal a bruising kiss that has him hot in pursuit when you pull back. The hem of the dress brushes his face when your knees make landing on the backseat, on either side of the headrest he’s lying on. Reaching for the grab handle above, you pull yourself upright, bracing the roof of the truck while you hover over his beautiful nose.

Calloused fingers bunch up your dress to the waist, and Jack hums at the display of your drenched panties, before hooking one thumb around the seams and pulling it unceremoniously to one side.

‘Look at that pussy,’ he groans brokenly. ‘Always fuckin’ soakin’ for me. Just beggin’ for me to taste it, hmm?’

‘Jaaaack,’ you whine on an exhale. Looking down at how he’s so wantonly eyeing you, your back arches with a confidence you didn’t know you have. Thighs splaying wider, you know he hears the slick parting of your folds when he stutters a pained moan.

‘C’mere and let me eat that pretty pussy, darlin’.’

From the moment his lips close around your clit in a sloppy suckle, you know this is a different beast from that first time he took you apart with his mouth, deep in the mountains, under the secret cloak of night. The afternoon sun casts shadows where his brow is creased in studious concentration, his keen gaze flitting from where he delicately holds you open with his fingertips, to your cleavage, to your face, and all the way down again. Every twitch of muscle, every whimper caught in the web of his determination to relish all of you.

In no mood to tease, each measured lick and curl of his tongue hits its mark, your physical reflexes compounded by this show of devastating competence. He draws desperate sounds that you don't even register as your own, your needy cunt leaking all over his face and chin.

‘Cowboy,’ you mewl, reaching down to coil your fingers into his hair, the strands beaded with sweat and sticking to his forehead as he doubles down. Your squirming only makes him tighten his grip on your hips to hold you still, the bite of his fingers bordering on painful. ‘I’m so close -’

The insides of your thighs are cool and slippery, a sensation you’re well used to now, his spit and your slick completely soaking through your panties. His three-day stubble rubs your sensitive skin raw, and the top of his Stetson bumps against the ceiling as you angle your hips to catch his puckered lips where you need him most, chasing friction.

‘Jack,’ you whimper when you feel the first spark of orgasm deep inside you, the spiral instant and relentless. ‘Jack, Jack, oh fuck, - I’m there, that’s it - I’m cumming, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’t -’

Somewhere on the fringes of your scattered mind, you’re aware that the windows are down, not that you can do anything about it now - you thrash and wail and sob his name, all the while he laps at the mouth of your throbbing cunt. The sounds are obscene as he slurps and wrings every last drop of you until you’re pushing him away, nerves firing blindly from overstimulation, choking hoarsely when you catch your breath.

Watching you in a drunken daze, Jack finally draws back with a lewd pop, wiping his thoroughly soaked chin on your knee, which narrowly misses his nose as a violent, full-body shudder ripples through you.

‘Relax, darlin’,’ he cooes. All your joints have capitulated, so Jack has to bodily rearrange you, dislodging your shaky knees from his shoulders down to his sides to pull you in for a kiss. You moan at the sticky release his moustache smears all over your face, the taste of yourself thick and heavy on his tongue.

His brown eyes snap open when you sneak between your bodies to palm his erection through his jeans, voice strained. ‘Darlin’, we ain’t got the time -’

Deftly undoing his belt, that damned flask-shaped buckle that looks as ridiculous as the first time you laid eyes on it, you assure him, ‘Don’t worry, it won’t take long.’

He arches an eyebrow, taking in your face shadowed by his cowboy hat, but stays put otherwise, almost docile as he lets you take the reins. ‘Is that so? And you’re so confident, how?’

Shoving down his boxers and jeans, his cock springs free, hard and ready. With a brazen grin, you sit up and line yourself up to the swollen tip, declaring, ‘Because I want you to cum inside me, cowboy.’

You’re not sure if it’s you sinking down on him, or him snapping his hips upwards. All you know is that by the time your head catches up, he’s driven to the hilt inside you.

‘What are you - fuck you’re so tight -’ he wheezes against your lips, giving you no pause as he ruts into you recklessly, the crude slap of skin on skin filling every space the truck. ‘Whatcha mean by cummin’ inside you?’

‘I don’t know how I can be more clear, cowboy,’ you sass, when a particularly deep thrust almost jolts you off his lap.

‘But you’re not on birth control, darlin’ -’ he tries to reason.

‘I’ll take the morning after pill as soon as I land,’ you promise, holding his unfocused gaze. ‘Do you trust me?’

The wind is knocked out of you when his strong arms pull you flush to his front, his answer immediate and irrevocable. ‘With everythin’.’

There’s too much going on. The coarse scratch of denim on the inside of your thighs, his nails scraping down your ass, the desperate whimpers he leaves in the secret place behind your ear. The air grows humid and thick as Jack feels himself slipping, your pussy gripping him so tightly that his eyes threaten to roll back into his skull.

He gasps in a breathless warning. ‘Darlin' -’

‘It’s ok, cowboy,’ you croon, fingers carding through his dark hair. ‘I want to feel you deep inside me. All of you.’

His bones rattle with a vicious shudder at your words. Snarling, he bucks into you at a pace so unrelenting that you cry out with each snap of his hips.

‘Gonna stuff you so fuckin’ full,’ he vows in between slippery kisses. ‘Been wantin’ to since the first time. Gonna fill your pussy with my cum, darlin’, you’ll be drippin’ with me for days -’

‘Yes yes yes do it cowboy, please -’ you beg, voice cracking.

‘Look at me,’ he orders, nostrils flaring as you knock foreheads. ‘Look at me while I fuck you full, darlin’.’

Choking on a whine, you feel him swell inside you until he teeters right on the brink. The raw need in his eyes robs you of your breath, and you grow faint on empty lungs as you sway with him -

And then his neck strains, his hips jerk, and you feel his abdomen cave in on itself when he lets go with your name on his lips, and his on yours. A primal roar fills your ears as he pumps you full of him, spilling into you again and again until all you feel is his cum hot and deep inside you, flooding your cunt, his whole body spasming as he pants raggedly for air.

A carnal musk hangs ripe and sweltering in the confines of the truck. Floating on a lazy stupor, you draw soothing circles on his quickly rising and falling chest through the aftershocks, his tshirt clammy with sweat, heart pounding under your palm.

Jack reaches up to push off his hat so that he can see all of you before pulling you in for a lingering kiss. When he softens, his spend dribbling slow and hot out of you, two thick fingers nudge between your thighs, and your back arches when he tenderly pushes it back inside.

His plea is a hoarse mumble into the side of your neck. ‘Keep me in you, darlin’. Take me with you.’

You nod, and smile, ‘Always.’

The airport is tiny, and Jack seems to know everyone you cross paths with. From the security guard at the carpark (previously a groom at the Statesman) to the staffer at the car rental counter (Champ’s nephew), he’s busy tipping his hat and dispatching howdy’s left, right and centre.

‘Small town, huh?’ you quip.

He hums, ‘Welcome to cowboy country.’

And he definitely knows the brunette checking you in at the airline counter, all the while glowering at you over the top of your driving licence.

‘Ain’t seen you 'round town much lately, Jack,’ she says, affixing you with a none too subtle glare.

‘Y’know how it is in the summer, always busy,’ he replies a touch too politely. As soon as he drops your suitcase onto the baggage belt, he wraps one even less subtle arm around your waist and pulls you pointedly into his side.

You bite your lip as the woman’s eyes narrow and she aggressively punches your details into the computer system, surprised that the keyboard doesn’t break. Once your suitcase is on its merry way, Jack wastes no time spiriting you away from the counter without so much of a fare-thee-well.

You burst into laughter, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Brrrrrr. That was cold!’

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, admitting, ‘To be fair to her, she didn’t catch me at my finest moment.’

‘Do I want to know?’

‘Let’s just say there ain’t enough of this ol’ cowboy to go ‘round for the ladies in town,’ he winks.

‘Well, I hope they know there’s about to be even less of you going forward,’ you sniff primly.

Preening at the possessiveness in your tone, Jack ribs, ‘A tragedy, some might say.’

You huff, but can’t help a smile. ‘Well, aren’t I lucky to have roped you in, cowboy.’

‘And she can’t even lasso!’ he teases, leaning down to steal a kiss.

Feeling eyes on you, you duck your head, protesting, ‘Jack, people are looking.’

‘Let ‘em,’ he counters, prompting a gasp from you when he brazenly squeezes your ass through your dress. ‘I’m stakin’ my claim, darlin’.’

‘You already did in the truck, cowboy,’ you remind him, instinctively rubbing your thighs together, feeling the weight of his cum wet in your panties.

He hums, as if he knows, the sound deep and satisfied. His lips linger at the crown of your head, and he holds you close with his whole body, wrapping himself around your soul.

All too soon, the old-fashioned Solari board you’re sitting under whirrs into action. The retro split-flap display spins and flips with a mechanical staccato to spell out ‘final boarding call’ next to your flight number, one of five scheduled for that afternoon.

Stubbornly, you turn your face into Jack’s shoulder, inhaling him. He smells like horses and dappled sun filtered through leaves in a tree - you wish you could distil it into a bottle and take it with you.

You’re in denial, that much you know. You’ve warded off the thought of leaving too well, compartmentalised it and pushed it down somewhere it wouldn't be able to resurface.

But that’s the irony - even if you can keep it buried, it doesn’t change the fact that your suitcase is in the belly of the plane parked on the runway, that you’re about to leave Wyoming behind and put thousands of miles between you and this cowboy, who has gone uncharacteristically quiet as the minutes tick down.

Eventually, he murmurs slowly into your hair, as if the words are physically weighing him down. ‘C’mon, darlin.’

Your feet are heavy, dragging, and Jack has to practically strong-arm you out of the airport terminal and onto the tarmac. He holds you as you loiter at the back of the queue, until the crowd disperses, and the stewardess at the top of the boarding stairs gives you both a knowing but firm look.

That’s when the tears spill over the seams of your lashes where they’ve been teetering, held back by sheer willpower and clenched teeth. Ugly sobs bubble out of your throat, and Jack pulls you into him, his own voice thick as he rocks you soothingly. ‘It’s ok, darlin’. I’ll see you before you know it.’

‘But when?’ you wail, almost petulantly.

He answers with no hesitation, and it’s obvious to you that he isn’t just thinking on his feet, that he’s been making plans, but kept it close to his chest.

‘We have back-to-back pack trips the next three weeks, so I can’t get away. But next month, after the Kingsman’s rescheduled bookin’, I’ll take a whole week off.’

‘That’s an entire month away,’ you grumble into the soaked front of his tshirt.

‘I know, but you’ll need time to plan all the things we’re gonna see,’ he jokes, recalling your fireside conversation. ‘You’re gonna take this country mouse to all the museums and art galleries and all kinds of big city adventures, ain’t that right?’

You give him a watery smile. ‘I stand by the sex and Thai takeaway in bed plan.’

‘Even better,’ he answers, and you hold onto the way the crease of his smile lines bring out the soul in his eyes. ‘I’ll call you, darlin’, ok?’

Somehow, you muster the good humour to tease, ‘The cool kids FaceTime nowadays, and I hear your phone doesn’t have a working camera.’

He laughs, and you can’t quite tell if it’s tears clinging to his lashes, or if it’s a trick of the light. He thumbs away the wet streaks from your cheeks, nose brushing yours in a solemn promise. ‘I’ll get a new one.’

‘Just for me?’

And then he’s kissing you, plush lips slanting across yours, dragging slow like honey. When he pulls back, he breathes, ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

Jack has to physically unclench his fingers to let you step back. When your hand slides out of his, it takes him everything not to pull you back, or run after you up the stairs. He grasps the railing so hard his knuckles go bone-white as you turn back to him one last time at the aircraft door.

You blow him a kiss, your smile brave but wobbly. ‘Goodbye, cowboy.’

He swallows hard, wanting to be strong for you, but still, his voice wavers. ‘I’ll see you, darlin’. So soon.’

You nod, your tears catching the afternoon light as the stewardess ushers you into the cabin.

Then it hits him.

You’re not going to be in his arms when he wakes up tomorrow. You’re not going to be there when he reaches around for you - your face, your neck, your voice.

You’re not going to be there.

Jack watches your tear-streaked face appear at one of the windows, and he tries to smile at you, wishing he’d insisted on one last kiss. The heat from the jet engines and the sun is bouncing off the tarmac, but he’s cold, so cold, that his fingers have gone stiff. Nothing feels real, as if he’s been wrapped in cling film and dunked underwater, and he almost doesn’t hear the voice to his left.

The air traffic controller says apologetically, ‘’Mfraid we gotta clear the runway, sir.’

He fumbles over his words. ‘’Course. Sorry.’

Pressing his index and middle fingers to his lips, he waves the kiss at you, which you catch with your palm against the glass. Determined not to miss one single second, he slowly walks backwards with the controller beside him as he waves the batons.

He says sympathetically, ‘It’s always hard, but it gets easier.’

Jack glances at him with a questioning look.

He chuckles good-naturedly. ‘You ain’t the first lovelorn cowboy I seen on this runway sayin’ ‘bye to his city girl.’

His lips quirk despite himself, eyes still on you even as the plane slowly taxis away. He says, ‘I sure hope you’re right, man.’

With one last wave, the plane pivots, and you disappear around the bend.

Empty. He feels empty.

The sadness is helium in his chest, inflating between the gaps of his ribs, and he feels himself drift even with each footfall of his heavy boots on the concrete, while a dull ache ricochets in the hollow spaces of his skull.

Grappling for an anchor, Jack forces himself to focus, one thing at a time. Key in the ignition, twist, the whirr of the engine. Switching on the radio, it cackles between the frequencies as he straps his Stetson to the backseat, then swings one leg over the saddle and puts on his helmet.

The static starts taking on shape, lyrics and guitar riffs cutting through the white noise and catching his attention just as he wraps his fingers around the rubber grip of the handlebars.

I want to ride off on a palomino

Feel the fire in my breath and the breeze in my hair as I go

Why the hell am I even looking back for?

For I know, where you go my love goes

He misses the ghost of your arms around his waist, the slope of your nose tucked into his nape. He misses you. He wants to see your face the minute you get off that plane on the other side of the country. He wants to hear your voice before he goes to bed tonight. He wants to tell you mornin’ first thing tomorrow when he gets up.

As the 737 roars overhead, the shadow passing over him, he wonders if you can spot him from the clouds.

He’d better crack on and get to the shop in town before it closes.

Steering smoothly out of the parking lot, Jack takes a left, the Silver Pony kicking up dust with a purr as she cruises down the country roads -

The same country roads that brought you to him.

Fin

More notes: I've been writing fanfiction on and off for the past 17 years. Corny as it sounds, it feels like everything I've ever written has been leading up to this fic. I put my heart and soul into Palomino, and it's repaid me tenfold. It gave me the chance to write about my love for horses, to fall in love not only with cowboy Jack, but with Darlin', Teak, the entire cast and the horses, this whole universe that I built in my head. And it gave me all of you - the most wonderful, supportive friends and readers I've had the pleasure of writing for.

I hope I will have the chance to revisit the Palomino universe one day. But for now, I'm ridiculously proud for finishing this series and for giving it the ending it deserves. I don't think I will ever write a fic that I love so deeply again. Palomino was it for me, and I'm forever grateful that I got to share this incredible journey with all of you.

There are some special people I need to thank, please forgive me if I leave anyone out, I appreciate each and everyone of you ❤️

LJ @prolix-yuy: The wonderful friend and writer who made me fall in love with cowboy Jack in first place with her epic Westworld Whiskey series, which is also coming to an end next week. I've said this many times and I'll never stop saying it - there would've been no Palomino if not for LJ. Thank you for being my inspiration bestie, you are the literal best.

Ash @mandoblowmybackout: My OG bestie and fellow cat mum, one of the first people I screeched about cowboy Jack to, I treasure our friendship so much, thank you for your support.

Maddie @imaswellkid: Maddie, thank you for being in my corner throughout Palomino and for holding my hand when I need it (which is often). Talking to you about Palomino in person - well, talking about anything and everything to you in person - was one of the most surreal moments of last year, and I'm hoping it won't be long before I see you again.

Sil @psychedelic-ink: Sil, light of my life, thank you for always being there for me, for listening and talking me down from the ledge many times. I'm so lucky to have you, and to have you love cowboy Jack as much as I do. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day!

Peaches @ohsomightypeaches: Screaming at you/being screamed at by you about anything cowboy Jack is always so much fun, and not just Jack, but also Teak, Champ, etc.. Your love for this series is beyond infectious, thank you for your support and for always making me smile!

Skye @iamskyereads: Skye my love, I believe I was admiring you from afar when you popped up in my notifs with a reblog of the first chapter, and I remember how excited I was! So grateful that Palomino brought you into my life.

Heidi @wildemaven: Thank you for gifting Palomino with not one beautiful video edit, but also a gorgeous moodboard! You are an angel!

Jules @julesonrecord: My fellow cowboy aficionado, your enthusiasm for s'mores and Jack always makes me smile. Thank you for your support, truly.

Jo @mvtthewmurdvck: Thank you for listening to me rant and rave and holding my hand during my meltdown. I'm so grateful for you!

Snowsuit anon: It's always a joy to hear from you, and I will hold you forever responsible for sparking the snowsuit craze (affectionate) 💙 Thank you for your support my lovely!

A special shoutout to my lovely readers who have followed Palomino from the very beginning. Thank you for sticking with me, I really feel like we went on this trip together, all of us: @lola-lola-lola, @harriedandharassed, @witchisenpai, @miss-mandalorian, @fireproofmarta, @dreamymyrrh, @inkededucatednnerdy, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @freakrenaissance, @axshadows, @damnyoupedro, @thosewickedlovelies, @peridotsparadox, @radiowallet, @sherala007, @shirks-all-responsibilities

And needless to say, thank you for every single one of you (I wish I could tag everyone but we'll be here all day!), every comment, reblog, ask, tag for Palomino. You have been an absolutely joy to write for, your love and encouragement kept me going, I really don't know how I've been so lucky, y'all have my heart forever ❤️

Last but not least, thank you @saradika for these adorable dividers!

#palomino series #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey fanfiction #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Spotify

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dangermousie · 3 months

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Hey dangermousie some time when you're feeling up for an ask: what are your favorite webnovels? Like danmei, bg, general fiction, anything. You've shared so many intetesting sounding novels in other posts so I was curious what some of the top favorites are? I remember Sha Po Lang, Ever Night, and The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (which I'm reading because of you ToT)

I love this ask! I am gonna limit myself to 35 novels or we will be here all night. The usual caveat is - this is very personal. You will see that out of 35 (well, 36) novels, there is only one modern, there is a lot of angst and things like noncon and unhealthy relationships don't bother me. But I dislike harem infights and protags who are too OP.

35 I Became the Older Brother of the Heroine in an Abusive Novel by Liu Gou Hua (danmei) - a lovely novel where one half of otp is healthy and wholesome and the other abused feral wreck who melts under sanity and care.

34 After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine by Liu Gou Hua (danmei) - our MC is a modern person who transmigrates into a historical bad guy who apparently married a captured and crippled general who eventually healed, escaped and committed a lot of murder to avenge his humiliation. Poor historian MC transmigrates right before the wedding and is desperate to avoid the fate of having his head hang on the city gates for three years in the near future. Good luck! This has such a wholesome (yet not boring) OTP. Proof that healthy doesn't have to be dull.

33 You've Got Mail by He Dan Bai (danmei) - the sex in this one is gonzo and biologically questionable but the love story is wistful and sweet and somehow both hilarious and involving two rather damaged people.

32 The Blue Whisper by Jiu Lu Fei Xiang (het) - the novel is a bona fide angst masterpiece, which really delves into what it feels like to be imprisoned or to love and what makes you you. I sniffled throughout.

31 The Paranoid Emperor’s Black Moonlight Shizun by Chen Sensen (danmei) - a really screwed up disciple and a really decent master have some insane entanglements. To say more would be to spoil but if you want some intensity, angst, groveling and utter codependency and did I mention ANGST? this one is for you!

30 Demon King's Repayment by Gong Xinwen (het) - another delicious Gong Xinwen tale with a powerful ML dedicated to capable FL. This one is a great fantasy plot (I keep imagining it as an animated series) and a sprawling cast of amazing secondaries (and secondary OTPs - there is, I swear, an OTP that is Dong Hua x Feng Jiu done thru GXW lens) to boot.

29 Accompanying the Phoenix by Jiu Lu Fei Xiang (het) - the one that just got adapted into The Legend of Shen Li, this is high adventure and cottage core and funny and tragic and powerful ML being putty in the hands of capable FL and just EVERYTHING.

28 The Counterattack of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid by Jia Mian De Sheng Yan (het) - I remember starting this and loving the realistic feel and the heroine and wanting to stab the hero. Yet the end I was on board with both the hero (who was abused and is rather autistic-coded) and the OTP. Anyway, heroine is a servant who was a concubine in the last life and got killed as part of a rich family’s harem intrigues. In this life, she just wants to keep her head down but her life gets derailed anyway. She gets sold away and eventually made a servant in the household of an exiled prince who takes a fancy to her and she endures it because what choice does she have? All she wanted was to serve out her term and become a small time merchant. This is quite realistic about lack of options for women, especially lower class women or upper class male attitudes (ML is never vicious or mean to FL but it does not initially occur to him to wonder if she fancies him or enjoys being his concubine or w/e.) It is a DELIGHTFUL slow burn tho as they grow to love each other and grow together and become one of the most wholesome cnovel couples out there.

27 The Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script by Teng Luo Wei Zhi (het) - so fucked up, so good, with monster hero who learns to love and be human and heroine who learns to love and be human (but from the other side, her tower of perfection), with a complex plot and no easy outs.

26 The Grand Princess by Mo Shu Bai (het) - a husband and wife who really drifted apart and ended up killing each other (or did they?) get a second chance as they are reborn as their younger selves. This has a great plot, a competent set of protags, and slow burn with complexity and trauma and somehow yet lightness. Plus awesome secondary OTPs!

25 Copper Coins by Mu Su Li (danmei) - a monk and a dragon? More likely than you may think. This is smart and wistful and made me cry; the romance doesn't kick in for the longest time and it doesn't even matter.

24 The Golden Terrace by Cang Wu Bin Bai (danmei) - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.

23 Long Wind Crossing (Destined) by Mo Shu Bai (het) - two functional lovely people fighting the world and growing up together and forming an amazing marriage.

22 Mistakenly Saving the Villain by Feng Yu Nie (danmei) - so underrated. A perfect h/c fantasy with the most functional MC and fucked up ML that never puts even a toe wrong with a premise that could go seriously bad so many different ways, instead telling a funny, moving story of love helping you heal.

21 I'll Be the Male Lead's Sister in Law by September Flowing Fire (het) - one of my all time favorite novels. Heroine is made to marry a disabled nephew of the emperor. He used to be a victorious god of war but went mad and now is basically locked away and kept as a beast. GOD I LOVE THIS NOVEL SO MUCHHHHH! So much hurt/comfort and awesome OTP and after he eventually recovers, all he wants to do is to fight and murder things and dote on wifey. MMM. He’s honestly one of my fave MLs.

20 The Rebirth of a Star General by Qian Sha Cha Ke (het) - not a typical QSCK at all, this one has a heroine who wakes up after being killed by her awful family; in her past life she was a general whose glory went to her cousin but here she chooses to start anew. Revenge is secondary to her - forming a new life and healing are really the focus. Also the OTP (FL and a male general with his own tragedy, and her former schoolmate) is just EVERYTHING!

19 Nan Chan by Tang Jiu Qing (danmei) - it reads like poetry crossed with a nightmare. One of the most unusual novels I've read and with the most alien set of protagonists I've ever read and believably so (a personification of a sword and a cannibalistic fish), I can't even describe this in any way other than a deity-centric paean to atheism.

18 The Rest of My Life by Mo Shu Bai (het) - the sole modern on this list, this is a novella about an aftermath of a regular office worker with a regular life and a regular husband being raped. It's a hard hard read but it's amazing.

17 To Rule In a Turbulent World by Fei Tian Ye Xiang (danmei) - gay Minglan is my elevator pitch. Well that or "what happens if you stick cottagecore and crucifixion in one novel."

It’s a BL novel but honestly, it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period setting per se. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating (I never thought I’d find daily farming things interesting but here I am.) Farming, politics and the sudden horrors of war all intermingle perfectly.

Our protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant, sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he buys a sex slave on a whim from his friend (OK, wait wait wait don’t go, why are you bailing :P) Basically You Miao sees his friend’s servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. Let's back up - You Miao - our protag. He is the main reason I love the novel. It’s hard to write a character who is wealthy, kinda spoiled, sometimes immature and still make him eminently likeable. You Miao is also smart, pragmatic, funny, surprisingly laid back, a people person, and with a stubborn streak a mile wide. He is not perfect in any way but he is a real living breathing person I came to love.

Anyway, the ostensible sex slave he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers and lets him go (not before they have some pretty explicit sex because hey - You Miao is all ‘why not, might be fun to try’ and LZF is “dude saved my life, why not.’ One of the things I love about the story is that there is no instalove - both sex and love make sense in the way and the order they happen; the two bang on a semi regular basis long before their feelings fully develop into love, which is pretty gradual and realistic.) However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely likes him. One of the pleasures of the novel is watching LZF slowly transform from a piece of wood automaton into a genuine person who allows himself joy or temper.

So meticulously written, so smart, so vivid, such a cast of secondary characters (that friend who was beating LZF to death ended up being one of my favorite, most tragic characters in the novel because the author gets people are complex.)

16 The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System by MXTX (danmei) - a pastiche parody of web novels that somehow is both witty and makes me genuinely feel desperately for the protags. Go read!

15 Dandere General and His Lord by Gong Xinwen (het) - God, I love this one. Heroine transmigrates from modern world into a brutal slave-holding world at war (think something like Warring States era.) Our heroine transmigrates into the body of a noblewoman who just hung herself. When she comes to, she discovers that woman’s twin brother was the ruler of a city poisoned by a rival claimant and the besieging army of said claimant is about to take the city and original occupant of the body and the rest of the family chose suicide as a way to avoid dishonor. Our heroine refuses, schemes with advisors to pass as the brother and rally the troops. Once the invaders are defeated, she keeps on the masquerade and rides off to one of the never-ending wars “she” is summoned to. Our hero couldn’t be farther from this. A slave and a son of a slave, he’s escaped a horrific, starving childhood during which he narrowly avoided being murdered or raped, and ended up in the army. When the story opens, he distinguished himself in battle and as a reward, he and a few of his fellow slave warriors are invited to a banquet, where they are given some alcohol and to be playthings of any nobles who want them. One of them does not survive this but ML is lucky - heroine feels terrible and so “claims” him for herself. Instead she just tends to his wounds and sends him back. She does not fancy him or anything, she is just a human being with a conscience. And the story goes from there.

14 The Marquis Is Innocent by Peng Lai Ke (het) - this is the set up of very beautiful yet utterly cold-hearted woman marrying a ruthless, powerful man who eventually ends up on top of the murder pyramid. And a relationship that starts as a political arrangement with the husband not caring for her but then the ruthless scheming murder machine falls hard for her while FL actually does not, not yet. It takes a long time. This is such a glorious slow burn (I think by now you realized I love slow burns) and it takes her a very long time to open up or for him to realize that is what he wants (he's a very believable period man who finds it hard to admit he can actually have his happiness based on a woman) and there are steps forward and back and it's glorious, glorious!

13 Thousand Miles of Bright Moonlight by 罗青梅 (haven't seen it transliterated) (het) - one of my ultimate favorites, this would make such an epic drama! A smart as hell but cautious and wounded heroine, a hero who is a monk and a warrior but also terribly ill and such a vivid world and amazing secondary characters (heroine’s brother is possibly my favorite supporting character of all time) and so much angst and happy ending. Both the protags are such intense, good people longing for happiness but not daring for it. This has an amazing romance but it’s not romance-centric if it makes sense - ML doesn’t appear for a while. But once he does, it’s worth it!

12 Mountain and River Pillow by Mo Shu Bai (het) - a tender intense and tragic slowburn which shows the limits of knowing what will happen and the fight to reestablish the family with an amazing amazing OTP. Heroine transmigrated into her past self; this time she chooses to go through with her arranged marriage instead of running away for love (it ended badly) but her knowledge fails to prevent her new sweet husband and his whole family murdered in battle and framed for treason. All that is, except for her husband's youngest brother, barely adult and left with an almost impossible task. In the past life he managed but it hollowed him out. In this one he has a sister in law to assist so...Anyway, both the protags are smart, good, intense and amazing people and I love them separately and as an OTP. By far my favorite MSB novel.

11 Those Years In Quest of Honour Mine by Man Man He Qi Duo (danmei) - another really underrated gem, it’s funny and heart-breaking and made me laugh and sniffle within pages of each other. Its two protagonists are both walking wounded but also good people, and watching them find happiness despite all the horrors the world threw at them, watching them take care of each other is so lovely. Also, someone once described the ML as “Lan Wangji gone feral” and that is just A++++

10 The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by MXTX (danmei) - we all know that one is there even any point describing it.

9 Nightfall/Ever Night by Mao Ni (not romance centric but het) - so long but also so smart and unusual and bloody and tho it’s not primarily a romance, you will never see another ML who loves his FL as much as Ning Que does his Sang Sang. And the worldbuilding and the plot and the characters and just so so bleak.

8 Wu Chang Jie by Shui Qian Cheng (danmei) - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet. In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.

Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.

Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever. And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.

One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on. If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in. There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify. Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.

7 Stars of Chaos (Sha Po Lang) by Priest (danmei) - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)

6 Heaven Official's Blessing by by MXTX (danmei) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.

5 (tie) The Emperor’s Beloved Ugly Girl by 一味相思 (haven't seen it transliterated) (het)- Our heroine is the unlucky laundry maid A’Chou. She is a di daughter of an upperclass family but her family got destroyed in one of the political upheavals of the time and A’Chou, only a small child at the time, was the only survivor and was made an enslaved laundry maid. Due to various events, at the start of the novel she is a laundry maid in a minister’s household and the minister’s beloved daughter is having a fit because she’s supposed to marry the former Crown Prince which may have been great a few years back but Crown Prince had since been deposed, tortured, imprisoned and now is living in the middle of nowhere under conditions that are too meager to be called house arrest. And he’s seriously crippled too. Understandably, the young lady doesn’t want to marry him! She’d rather kill herself and so she does. And so, a desperate plan is hatched - why don’t we pretend the laundry maid is the di daughter of the minister’s household and send her off? And so A’Chu is sent as the bride. She arrives to discover a broke, seriously injured man on the verge of death…and we go from there. This is so gorgeous and tender and slow in just the right way and like AAAAAA! Secondary OTPs (one of which is MM) are also epic.

5 Wishing You Eternal Happiness by Peng Lai Ke (het) - this is almost tied with Dreamer as my favorite het web novel ever though it couldn’t be more different from Dreamer, with its hard-edged and hard-souled protagonists ruthlessly cleaving their way to the world and, eventually, each other, its smart cynical air. Except in one thing - the world of Wishing is just as bloody and dark. Its two protagonists are gentle, deeply wounded souls who may find salvation in each other but even something as basic as safety almost seems out of reach. Jliafu, our heroine, is neither a modern-day transmigrator, nor some exotic princess or demoness. She is very much a period woman of her time, from a weathy merchant clan, whose beauty is her curse. You can tell the novel’s tone from that utterly bleak opening chapter where she, a favorite concubine of a capricious dying emperor, is ordered to be buried alive with him and is not even given the “grace” of white silk but slowly suffocates in the coffin, scrabbling at the lid. There is no grand threats of vengeance on her part, not dramatic opera events. Just despair and death. The whole introductory chapter is haunted by emotional ghosts - the empress’ unrequited love for the monster on the imperial bed (turning into desire for Jiafu’s suffering after he dies), the emperor slowly dying in his prime after waging too many wars, and his fear of being haunted by Pei Youan, a brilliant if sickly minister who died of illness long ago on one of imperial campaigns. There is no triumph for anyone, only loss.

When she wakes up as still a young woman, all she wants is to escape the same fate. There are no plans for power or revenge, only a desire for survival. And so she latches on asking for help from Pei Youan, the only man in her past go-around who showed any consideration and desire and ability to protect her, though he barely knew her. Pei Youan is probably my favorite het web novel ML. Despite his brains and ability, he drifts through life. In modern terms, he clearly has depression. One of the biggest, best joys of the novel is watching these two very good, very quiet, very wounded people discover happiness and love with each other. I sort of want to cry just thinking about it, tbh.

4 Ballad of Sword and Wine (Qiang Jin Jiu) by Tang Jiu Qing (danmei) - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train. In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.

This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.

As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs. Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.

3 Dreamer In the Spring Boudoir by Bai Lu Cheng Shuang (het) - my n1 het novel on this list, smart and fierce and don’t really read this for romance because it does not start until really late, but ice cold heroine x ice cold hero both of equal brains and ruthlessness is everything. I went from loathing the ML to finding him fascinating to adoring him (and yet he softened around the edges only for FL, he never became “nice”) and loved FL throughout; secondaries are epic. If you read only one non-danmei web novel, make it this one.

2 Stains of Filth (Yuwu) by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat (danmei) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated. Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.

This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love. Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)

1 The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) by Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat (danmei) -my n1 forever and ever.

Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.

I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)

And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.

Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.) Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!) Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!

#asks #cnovel #i stole some of those write ups from my earlier posts or i'd be writing until 2025

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jintaka-hane · 1 month

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@quinloki This is a birthday gift for you!! A bit late, but I wanted to give you something in return for this amazing story you wrote for me.

I hope you like it!

PS: I’ve never written for Marco before (but I know you like him), and I have zero knowledge of ocular medicine (so apologies for any inaccuracies, haha), but it’s written from the heart <3.

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Phoenix Sight

Summary: The first few times we see Marco, he isn’t wearing glasses, so at some point, he must have realized he needed them. This is the story of his visit to the optometrist, a visit that might end up with more than just a pair of glasses. Word count: 1300

As an optometrist, you see all sorts of patients, but the man who strolled into your office that morning was a whole new level of striking. Tall and robust, with short blond hair sticking up in a charmingly disheveled way, and an open shirt that hinted at a well-defined torso, clearly accustomed to enduring tough conditions.

“Mornin’, Doctor,” he said, approaching your consultation desk with an effortless nonchalance. “I think it’s time to get my eyes checked.”

He looked familiar. You could’ve sworn you’d seen him somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite place him.

"Of course," you replied with a welcoming gesture towards the chair in front of you. "Please, take a seat, and we’ll get started."

He settled into the chair with a casual ease, as if he’d done this a thousand times before. But you could tell by the way he glanced around that he wasn’t used to being on this side of the desk.

“Have you noticed any changes in your vision recently?” you asked, pulling out a new prescription form from one of your drawers.

"Yes, I’ve always suspected I was a bit nearsighted, but it feels like it’s gotten worse. I can’t read signs or see things far away without squinting." His expression carried a hint of drowsy charm, and his calm demeanor was punctuated by a faint, ever-present smile.

“Understood,” you said, gesturing toward the eye chart hanging on the wall. “Let’s start with a few tests to see what’s going on. Please cover one eye and read the smallest line of letters you can see.”

He placed his hand over his right eye and leaned forward slightly, his unbuttoned shirt falling open a bit more, revealing an imposing cross-shaped tattoo.

"Um… I can barely make out the top line. I think it’s an E?”

"Good guess," you suppressed a smile. "How about the next line?"

“A… T?” He laughed at himself, struggling to read.

“Very good. Let’s try the other eye.”

"Still hard to see... Maybe an F?"

You nodded, writing something down on your clipboard.

"That’s alright. It seems like your distance vision is indeed a bit blurry, which is typical for someone with myopia.”

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat down in front of him, your knee inadvertently slipping between his slightly parted legs as you adjusted the phoropter in front of his eyes.

“Alright, I’m going to test your vision with this device,” you explained, lowering the machine. “I’ll show you a series of lenses, and I need you to tell me which one makes the letters on the chart clearer.”

You were so close that you couldn’t help but notice the defined bone of his jaw as he compared the different lenses while you flipped through them. The hint of stubble added a ruggedness to his appearance that contrasted with the almost playful energy he exuded.

"Is this one better, or this?" The metal device clinked softly as you adjusted the lenses, your body inclining slightly forward and your knee brushing against the inner part of his thigh.

"Lens two is clearer."

"Perfect”, you smiled jotting down his results. “We’re almost done. Now, if you’ll just lean forward, I’ll check your eye health with the slit lamp”.

He nodded, resting his chin and forehead against a support attached to a binocular-like apparatus. A bright beam of light swept across his eye as you examined the cornea, iris, and lens. You could feel his calm, steady breath as you tried to stay focused on the task at hand.

"So, what do you see, Doc?" he asked, half-jokingly. "Anything interesting in there?"

"Just the usual," you replied, adjusting the light. "A perfectly healthy pair of eyes that just need a little help with long distances.”

He chuckled, lifting his chin to meet your gaze. “Guess I’ll have to get used to wearing glasses.”

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“Oh, I’ve heard worse,” he waved his hand dismissively.

You laughed.

Why did this man make you feel so relaxed and inclined to joke around?

“Would you like to look at the frames we have? If you find a pair you like, we could have your glasses ready by the end of the day.”

He smiled again at you.

That smile.

“That sounds good.”

You watched as he stood in front of the display, arms crossed, eyes scanning the rows of frames. He picked up a pair of square frames, holding them up to his face in the mirror, only to dismiss them moments later. He tried a rounder pair next, but those didn’t seem to convince him either. You fought back a giggle, noticing his hesitation, and finally decided to act. Taking the glasses from his hands, you reached for a pair of rectangular red frames.

“Here, try these,” you suggested, slipping the frames onto his face, your fingers brushing against his temple while you adjusted the arms. You paused, tilting your head as you tucked the earpiece behind his ear, and your smile widened as you stepped back to admire your work.

If he was interesting without glasses, with them on, he was just captivatingly handsome.

He looked at himself in the mirror, noticing how the frames balanced his features just right. He could feel your gaze on him, and when he turned to meet your eyes, the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Quickly, he used his fingers to push them back up into place—a gesture you found extremely attractive.

“I’ll take them.”

You smiled as you turned back to your desk. “If you’ve never worn glasses before, it’s normal for them to be a bit uncomfortable at first. It’ll take some time to get used to them. I’d suggest finding a distraction for the first few days so you don’t fixate on them too much—”

“Are you free tonight?”

You spun around in surprise and found him wearing a flirtatious grin, leaning seductively against the doorframe.

“My beautiful optometrist says I need a distraction,” he said, playfully fiddling with the glasses’ frame. “And if the situation calls for it, I can be quite obedient. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?”

You blushed. He was flirting so boldly that he had completely caught you off guard. Not that you were complaining, though.

"O-oh, no one," you said with a nervous laugh, "just..."

"...just?"

"A bird."

“A bird,” he raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

"Yes," you admitted, feeling the warmth rise in your cheeks. "Well… there's this bird that comes and goes from my balcony for food and water..."

“Do you like birds?” He straightened up from the doorframe, his eyes sparkling with interest as he looked at you.

“Oh, I’m passionate about them!” you replied, nervously gathering some papers from your desk. “Before becoming an optometrist, I actually wanted to be an ornithologist.”

“Really?” He listened intently.

“Yes, birds are the most spectacular creatures!” you responded, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm at having someone to talk about one of your favorite topics. “Did you know they have magnificent vision?”

“Hahaha!” His laugh, bright and playful, echoed through your office. “Maybe only up to a certain age!”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, I just… like birds too,” he smiled.

Again, that smile.

The one that could have set the room on fire.

“What time do you finish work?”

“Between seeing the last patient and tidying up the office, around 8 p.m.”

“Perfect. How about when I come to pick up my glasses, I wait for you, and we go out for dinner? We can… share opinions on birds since I know a bit about them too.”

Your heart quickened at the thought of spending the evening with this attractive man, whose name you still didn’t know but with whom you already shared an undeniable spark.

“Deal”.

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Taglist: @fanaticsnail <3

#x reader #one piece #op fiction #marco the phoenix #marco one piece #marco x reader #marco x you #marco the pineapple #jintaka stuff #happy birthday quin

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starsreminisce · 6 months

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I think I've pinpointed my issue with ACOWAR; the books essentially foreshadow the stories of Elain and Nesta when their book comes back into play to expand on what we were told would happen.

In WAR, Nesta shows that she feels more at home in the HoW and the NC. She takes a stand when she feels like she can help people, foreshadowing her powers with her finger point. She’s comfortable in Illyrian leathers, showing she fits in more. Moreover, Cassian constantly badgers her to train, and we see glimpses of the inevitability of their bond snapping into place.

It’s funny how e/riels like to quote and use WAR to justify their ship as endgame. However, if one were to zoom out of that lens, it shows just how drawn Elain is towards Lucien. Lucien knows when to push to fight for Elain and when to pull back to empower her to do more, and, more importantly, what the mating bond means for them both.

I am sorry to say, but Azriel is going to play a version of Graysen for Elain in her book or, at the very least, he’s going to be lumped in as a final straw for Elain to process just how differently she is being treated by males other than her mate, especially when she is not being heard or when her wants are being dismissed.

Elain is also going to realize just how differently Lucien treats her and realize just how much she's drawn to Lucien. Considering all the moments where we see Elain with Lucien, we see her attention towards him in subtle ways: The meeting at the library, the half-step towards him, saying his name when he's being disrespected by other people, asking if he was alright as he ran across the battlefield towards her, peering at his face, and the push from Feyre that prompted Elain to ask him to come live in Velaris.

Lucien, too, we saw him advocate for her while she is not in the room. The only reason why Elain got better was because Lucien pushed for her to get outside, while slipping into heir markers, and the reason why they won the war was because Lucien believed in her vision to find Vassa. When Lucien said that he is not needed here to find Vassa, we get moments of Elain being able to do more. We see her learning a new skill, using her powers to find the Suriel, kicking off the hound, and wanting to plant more gardens.

The consistency and depth of Elain and Lucien's interactions in WAR lay a sturdy foundation for their relationship's credibility. Elain's emotional responses and Lucien's actions on her behalf bolster the authenticity and depth of their connection. These pivotal moments serve to anchor the Elucien ship in the narrative.

Every interaction between Elain and Lucien is charged with understanding, tension, and mutual longing. Their dynamic mirrors SJM's narrative approach of challenging destined pairs, ensuring their journey is fraught with obstacles. Through these trials, they are compelled to confront their bond together. And after the events of ACOSF, their union feels not only inevitable but earned, solidifying their place as a compelling and deeply intertwined pairing within the series.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain x lucien

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avocado-writing · 1 year

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notes: LMFAO HERE WE GO. went hard into the monster fuckin with this one. this request was also done by @youhavesinnedverybigly which you can read here it's very 💕💞💓💗💝💘💖 thank u for requesting @silcosmoke!

pairing: aziraphale x reader

rating: E, minors dni

word count: 1.1k

tags: eldritch being biblically accurate angel; use of glitch text

You’re lying flat on your back, pawing up at the soft hair on his chest, and feeling absolutely ravished.

“Aziraphale,” you sigh, letting your tongue caress every syllable. You say it with deference, with rapture, like a prayer dropping from your lips. Aziraphale breathes a heady sigh at the sound of your pleasure and takes the hand you explore him with, bringing it to his face so that he might kiss its palm.

“My love. My darling,” he sighs, thrusting his hips into you a little more sharply. You groan at the feeling of him filling you, the stretch he gives you is always so gorgeous. With a devilish grin you contract your muscles and clench around his thick cock. He moans like he’s being paid by the hour, lost in the tight grip you give him.

“Good lord… you’re so… I’m… I’m…”

Your usually erudite lover becomes laconic when in the throes of lust, something which you take great pride in being the cause of. You assume he means he’s going to come so concentrate on your own orgasm, shutting your eyes and touching yourself. After a couple of moments, when you don’t hear that little sound he makes when he spends, you open them again.

And shriek.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Wh̴a̶t̶'̷s̶ ̸t̴h̴e̸ ̶m̸a̸t̸t̷e̵r̵ ̶m̶y̵ ̷d̵e̴a̷r̸?̷”

The voice doesn’t come from his mouth, because he no longer has one. Aziraphale has, to put it simply, begun to change. His body is no longer the soft, pink, lovely thing you’re used to; he is instead emitting such a bright light that it hurts your eyes if you’re not squinting. There’s no making out any of his features. An angelic lens flare.

“You’re… you’re glowing?!” you manage.

"A̸̓͜m̴̪͝ ̷͈́I̸̖̕?”

Somehow he’s still fucking you, hips rolling as he presses deeper inside. Your body is filled with wave after wave of pleasure as Aziraphale shifts before your eyes, his transformation not stopping his lovemaking. It’s a difficult thing to watch, in fact, you get the sense that if you try to observe it too closely at the very least you’re going to get a terrible migraine, so you turn away.

“M̴̛ͅy̶͕͌ ̶̯̔d̷̹̈a̴̙͒r̶͈̆ļ̵̑i̴̼̍n̶̼͂g̴͕̈,̴̟̀ ̴̤̿Ī̶͎'̵̼̂m̸̘̈́ ̴̗̆ŝ̷͇o̶̞͝ ̸̦͂s̴͉͂o̸͙̍r̷̰̈́r̷̟̂ȳ̸̻,̷̧̅ ̶̨̃I̶̢͠'̴̱̕l̴̡̃l̴̨̐ ̵̬͒s̵̝͐t̸͉̍ô̶̡p̶̞̄ ̵͌͜a̷͝ͅṱ̵̀ ̸̖̒o̸̺͋n̸̰͒c̵͈̾ḙ̶̀-̷̬̏-̴͔͐”

“No! No, don’t you dare. Fuck… just… tell me when you’ve finished changing…”

Your body is bathed with a warm, delicious feeling, both outside and in. Your skin feels like you’re being dipped in balmy water, every cell ignited with the feeling of rapture as your angel shifts. Where you can feel him entering you your body shudders as he presses deeper than he ever has before, filling not just your hole but every part of you, gratification swallowing you entirely. You’re aware of the feeling of being lifted into the air, but not by strong arms or a solid back, no, you’re floating.

B̴̜͇̯̼͊̈E̶̫͊̑̿̃ ̵̩̾N̴̩̯͚͉̈̈́̾̑Õ̵̢̰͕͖̎́͝T̸̛͖̳̺͈̽͂͋ ̶̧̹͎͛̄̀͘ͅA̷̛̱̅̓̉F̸̦̔͒Ŕ̴̳̯̪̐͊Ả̷̗͓͎̗͂Ī̴͕͍̠͂͋D̴̮̹̱̣͊̌,̵̨͘ ̸̼̠̬̹̿̍͠͠L̴̨̫̜͖͛̈́̐Ơ̸̡̈̀̽V̵͈͙̹̱́E̸̞̭͐.̶͍̲̆̌̃

You open your eyes when you hear him speak. No, no, hear isn’t the right word, you feel him speak directly into your mind, his voice reverberating around your body like a fucking pinball. You throb as you feel him pull out and push back in, every sense on fire in the best way.

It takes a moment for you to fathom what you’re looking at.

You’re inside him, which is a bit of a mindfuck, because he’s very much still inside you as well. But it’s easier for him because he no longer exactly has a corporeal form. Instead, Aziraphale is a series of concentric, rotating rings, each emblazoned with a thousand eyes. You know they’re your angel’s eyes, because they’re green-blue-brown, shifting in seconds the way they change whenever you’re in different kinds of sunlight. Every single one of them is focussed on you as they turn, looking at you with so much adoration you feel you very well may burst with it.

Outside the sphere in which you float, a dozen white wings beat slowly; feathers fall and turn to stardust as they go, and your body is showered with it. He engulfs you in this form. And yet you are still at his perfect centre, the apple of his eyes.

It’s fucking bizarre. And you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

“Aziraphale,” you gasp, and a hot beautiful light surrounds your body, making you glow before it begins to push at your entrance and fill you even further. You nudge your legs open and make room for the angel to pleasure you properly, your head rolling back, threatening to tip you; but he keeps you perfectly in place. “God, my god. You’re gorgeous.”

A̸̟̬͍̓̔̀͜͝S̵̪͉̄̓̌̊ ̶̳̓̄̿̀Ą̵̤͌̇̚R̵̖̬͛̆̚E̶͔̬̝̿̄̇ ̵̧̞̞̑̕Y̶̬̜̎O̸̧̦̪̙̚U̸̯̣͙͊͆̾͝ͅ,̸̡̞͈͌̇ ̸̧̗͉͒̎M̵̹̆Ȳ̸̭̠̱̑̾ͅ ̴̧̓̑D̶̝̩́̈͊A̸̫̔R̸̖̂L̷͉̆͗I̸̛̟̿̍N̴̠̞͕̖͒G̸̲̘̙̼̑.̵̡͂͆ ̵͎̾̚ͅǪ̷͉̩̓̋ͅH̴͈͚̺̱̉̑,̵̹͆̑ ̸̨̙͘H̵̲̀͛̂Ő̴̺W̸̲��͎̖͑͋̀̑ ̸̡̭̫͒͝͝Į̶͎̠̱̆̎͂̑ ̸̧̛͉̮̊̋͜L̸̻͔̤̼͑̀Ȍ̴̝͔͙̊̀V̵̺̫̞̈́̈́͌́Ę̶̛̭̞̹̇̋͐ ̴̞̞̏̔̋͠Ỳ̵͇̔̑͜͝Ǒ̶̺̝Ŭ̷̙͕̗͎.̴̣͓̳̊̑͝ ̴̛̝I̶̼̩̊ ̴̟̿̈̎͜ͅŴ̷̛̮͝Ạ̴͚͈̇N̸̪̝̠̻͆̕T̸̺̪̮͒͝ ̷̙̣̓͊̽̽T̶̹͉͍̣̈́O̵̪̐͊͜͜͠ ̸͈̠͇͒K̶̯̉̊̓E̴̱̓͜͝E̷̖̜̥̒̏͝P̶͆̾̈́̕ͅ ̴̡̰͍͊Ý̷͍̳O̶͔͕̓̚͠Ű̵̦̫͍́͗̃ ̷͉́͆̈́̏H̴̰͖̋E̵̢͉͋́̈͊R̶̼̱̎͛E̴̪̩̦͌͐͑̚ ̷͇͓͎̥͒͗̾̓F̷̨̒̐̇Ỏ̶̘͍̞R̷͇̤̼͉̓̈́̍͋Ē̴̥V̷̢̑̍Ẻ̶̞̪̥R̸̡̮̬͓͐̈́̓̄.̴̨̞͚́͐

You feel like you’d let him. You could stay trapped inside your angel ‘til the end of time, for the rest of eternity, however long he wants to keep you there – just so long as he keeps bringing you this pleasure. Every sense drips with it, molasses-thick and saccharine. Your head swims, your hole grips.

“I’m going to come,” you gasp.

C̶̢̛̪͎͚̞̥͊̏͆̇͌O̶̠͎̍̈́̈̐̈́̄M̵̨͎͔̤̈̏̈́͝Ẹ̴̜͇̐̓ ̵̫̳̦͔̘͍̹̑̓̑͊̾͌͘F̷̛̣͉̗̮͕̦̏̀̃̅̆̕͜O̶̧͙͎̖̥̾̍̄́̾̊̚R̵̢̜̘̅̎̇̐̽ ̸̡̛̫̮͔̦͋̈́̀̕͝Ḿ̴͚̺͕̱̫̫E̷͍͗̂̇́͒͘̚.̵̡̧̡͎̝̦͑̔͛͜ ̸̛͈͊͂͒̃I̴̥̫̒ͅ ̶͖̹̻͌W̸̲̞̆̀̉̇͘Á̶̝͎̬̰̞̬̈́͛̈́̎̈̓N̵̨̖̳̞̖̪̺̐Ṫ̶̡̪͇̟͚̥̽̚ ̶̛͓̭̖̊͒Ṯ̵̡̨͖͙͇̦̊̌̏̇͗̉͠O̷̞̺̟͆̔́͆̕͝ ̵̡͍̳͍̳͖̎͜F̴̰̑̏̒̽̍̂͝Ȇ̷̝̜̈̓̽̉͐́E̶̢̨̗͖̟̯̽͒̚͘͜͝L̶͚͒̒̀͠ ̸̪̗̥̍͆͠͝Y̸̼͈̤̅̅̌O̸̹̦͑̑͆͘̚ͅÛ̸͎̃̿̇̇ ̸̲̲̼̒̓̈͘R̴͍͎̜̓̋E̷̢͂́͋̉̈̎̕L̵̼̽E̶͇̔̈̈́̓̈́̅̔À̶̪̥͇̠͆̓͘͠͝S̵̥͉̫͖̀̍Ḛ̵̢͈̗̩̇͑̂̔̔͘͝ ̵͇͖͔̗̳̙̑͌̇̕Ą̸͎̭̾͐̂̈Ś̶͕͔̦̥̈͌̽͂͒̏ ̵̢͈̹͘I̴̫̬̜̔̒̉̂̽͜ ̷͖̙̖͚̗̓F̵͇͒̎I̷̼͌̉̈̐̕͘L̶̨̥͉̝͙͊ͅL̴̛͙̂̄̓͒͛̉ ̴̛̗͓͎̭̳̋́̊̈́͗͠Ỳ̷̧̛͎̼͍̩̥̎͘O̴̢͈̮̟̜͌̈́̈̈́͠͠U̵̧͔̺̼̤͕͓̿̈̃͠.̸̛̪͎̺̱͕̼͎́̊͘

You don’t need telling twice. Your orgasm rockets through you, splitting your fucking soul in half, and you drink down every drop of gratification he gives you. He wrings your body out for every drop of satisfaction you can give him. Stars explode behind your eyes and, when he’s in this form, they may very well be real ones, your consciousness elevated into space as your angel gives you your deepest release and follows in kind.

Aziraphale glows so brightly that you have to squeeze your eyes shut so they don’t get hurt. Outside, every bulb within a hundred metres of the bedroom fucking shatters. People screech as little pops of glass scare them but you’re too lost in this moment. Aziraphale comes in stardust, littering your body with his angelic spend, and as you finally catch your breath you find you’ve been gently lowered back onto the bed.

Eventually the euphoria your body is thrumming with calms down and you’re able to open your eyes. Aziraphale is there, in his usual body, lovely and soft and perfect, smiling down at you with such adoration you feel overcome with it. He says your name like a psalm.

“There you are,” he whispers, holding you close. “Are you alright, my darling?”

“Wonderful,” is all you can manage before you kiss him, because it’s true.

if you couldn't read the glitch text:

what's the matter, my dear?

Am I?

My darling, I'm so sorry, I'll stop at once--

BE NOT AFRAID, LOVE.

AS ARE YOU, MY DARLING. OH, HOW I LOVE YOU. I WANT TO KEEP YOU HERE FOREVER.

COME FOR ME. I WANT TO FEEL YOU RELEASE AS I FILL YOU.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @@foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @cool-iguana @this--is--music @ilyatan @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t

#aziraphale x reader #request #michael sheen x reader

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horrorwomen · 1 month

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In spirit photography, the camera apparatus functions like a spiritual medium that somehow detects the presence or aura of an otherwise invisible spirit world. The result is usually an image that merges the real physical world with a spiritual presence. The image often combines the clear picture of the real person with that of a faded apparition of another being, such as a dead relative or a historic figure. These images seem to provide some proof of a parallel world existing around the real.

Seemingly documenting this world, the photography draws on the element of the mechanical unaltered reproduction of what is in front of the camera’s lens. This reproduction is focusing on the material image itself. In fact, some spirit photographers claimed to be the spiritual medium and to develop the images they only needed to hold a sensitive plate in their hands (Gunning, 1995: 52–53).

Fatal Frame presents a broad range of references to spiritualist photographic practice. The two functions of spirit photography, as creative, as well as documentary practice, are both present and used to enhance the terror. However, unlike the traditional forms of spirit photography that look at the images after their production, Fatal Frame puts the player into the active role of the photographer at the time and location of the shot.

To take the best possible picture, the player has to put herself in the greatest danger, facing the attacking ghastly creature and waiting as long a possible to allow the camera’s exorcist power to build up. [...] The player of Fatal Frame becomes both the manipulative spirit photographer and the contact to the spirit world.

The pictures are staged as continuous evidence for the reality of the terrifying apparitions; because the player took the photograph herself and with much effort, the photographic image is even more believable. The player creates more and more convincing proof to support her own horror experience. As Makoto Shibata, the series’ director stated himself: In the Fatal Frame series, I pursue the fear which is generated by the player himself, and condensed as the essence of Japanese horror to generate the kind of fear which I personally believe is the most horrible [Shibata, 2005].

Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly (PlayStation 2, 2003).

Shadow Land: Light from the Other Side, E. D'Esperance, 1897.

Nitsche, M. (2009). Complete horror in fatal frame. Horror Video Games: Essays on the Fusion of Fear and Play, 200-219.

#fatal frame #fatal frame ii #spirit photography #text

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tea-earl-grey · 25 days

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I watched every Star Trek episode & here are my opinions.

as the title says – i finished all the Star Trek shows as of today yesterday and since i watched most of them while i wasn't using tumblr, i want do do some mini-reviews – both what i think are objectively the best shows and which are my personal favorites. i might make a couple more "ranking" posts for theme song/pilot/finale/favorite epsiodes/etc eventually but this post is already long as hell. i'll also probably do a movie post sometime but i want to rewatch the AOS movies first since i haven't seen Into Darkness since it came out (before i was actively a Trekkie).

also just as a note, these are fully my own opinions & tastes. i'm not trying to argue that any of these shows are bad (nor are any flawless), i'm just Some Guy giving my opinions.

continued under the cut. apologies for how long this is but there sure is a lot of Star Trek.

Watch Order

my opinions are probably a bit influenced by the order that i first watched these shows in so just as some background – i watched sporadic episodes of TOS & TNG when i was a kid which was enough to be familiar with the characters, general vibes, & world but not enough to really get into it. in late 2020/early 2021 i watched DS9 per a friend's recommendation and really loved it and decided to give all the different shows a shot. i watched all of TNG summer 2021, watched some of Disco & (what was then all of) Lower Decks in fall 2021. i started Voyager spring 2022, was interrupted because of Life Stuff and finished it spring 2023. i watched the first season of snw & prodigy sometime in between then. watched Picard spring 2023 just before s3 aired. watched Enterprise summer/fall 2023. finished Disco spring 2024 (just before s5). did a slow march through TOS between summer 2023 and summer 2024. and finally i watched TAS this past month. and i've been keeping up with all recent releases since 2023.

i've also rewatched a large amount of Trek either with my mom or friends at various times so i've ended up seeing most episodes twice (or more in the case of DS9 & Voyager).

Somewhat Objective Ranking:

there's a large difference for me between shows that i think are objectively good & ones that i'm personally attached to so here's just my attempt at ranking Star Trek shows by how good i think they are from a critical lens, not necessarily my favorite.

for me – a good show, and specifically a good Star Trek show, should have in my opinion a) a diverse & strong cast of characters, b) have unique & compelling plots whether they're based in science fiction, politics, or philosophy, c) has a strong moral center & explores the nature of humanity in some way, d) allows the audience to believe in a better future, e) is consistent (both with continuity and episode quality), f) does something to differentiate it from other shows, and g) is actually entertaining.

i don't think any shows come close to fulfilling all of those qualities but some do better than others.

11. The Animated Series: probably not a surprise that it comes in last. it's a fun show by the standard of kid's cartoon in the 70s and i genuinely do like it but it has a lot of the flaws of TOS (lack of continuity, lack of character depth, flimsy plots) with few of the upsides. though i do like how the secondary characters get more of a focus than in TOS.

10. Enterprise: big jump up in quality here from TAS but Enterprise does fall flat compared to the other shows. the Vulcan & Andorian stories are almost always good but so much of s1 & s2 lacks creativity and a lot of the a plots end up feeling generic & reused (though the b plots are often great). s3 falls into an obvious & uncomfortable 9/11/war on terror metaphor that has not aged well. and s4 is a huge improvement but doesn't make up for the faults of earlier seasons. additionally, i think returning to "the Trio + secondary characters" was largely a mistake as characters like Hoshi & Travis remain horribly underdeveloped (and what a coincidence that they're characters of color...) all in all. some great ideas and a handful of great episodes but it doesn't make up for how meh large swathes of the show can be.

9. The Original Series: i'm going to be honest that it this is the hardest show to objectively rank just because it's the first and it's so hugely impactful not just on the Star Trek franchise (obviously) but also on science fiction, pop culture, TV production, and American culture. its impact is quite literally immeasurable and i think unfortunately it means the show will always feel small in comparison to the shadow it casts. don't get me wrong. some episodes are great even by today's standard, not to mention by the standard of the 60s. but so many episodes, especially as the show went on, end up being pretty mediocre, poorly paced, misogynistic/racist, and have thin plots. TOS is enjoyable for me because of the camp & exploring the foundations of this fictional universe i love so dearly but i'm not going to pretend that it's objectively better than other shows on this list just because of its legacy.

8. Picard: now i could pretty easily judge each season of Picard as its own show and each season would get spaced out in entirely different places on this list. i genuinely believe s1 of Picard is one of the best seasons of Star Trek. the writing fumbles a bit at the end but the characters, direction, & acting is some of the best of the franchise. unfortunately the choice to present each season as a separate anthology reallllly let's it down because of the lack of continuity between seasons. the pandemic definitely threw a wrench into the show but s2 (while i enjoy it), has a very messy meandering plot that feels insecure in its skin. s3 (which i also enjoy) has tighter writing but suffers majorly from having been outlined before the end of s2 therefore having a weird discontinuous transition between seasons and unfortunately excluding so many great characters from s1 & 2. i love it dearly (not to foreshadow my personal favorite ranking) but it is a mess.

7. Discovery: most of the critiques i have of Picard also stand for Discovery which also opted for the "anthology" style series which i think fundamentally doesn't work. Discovery took awhile to find its voice and after s3, still sung somewhat off key. Michael is easily one of the best & most well developed Star Trek characters and the rest of the cast is good but are painfully underdeveloped as its hyperserialized format doesn't really leave time to get to know the characters unless it's essential for the plot. like Picard, it also got screwed over by pandemic-era production leaving some episodes clumsily written. some seasons, in my opinion, end up with an overcomplicated plot that becomes difficult to follow. nevertheless, there are some episodes and scenes that are stunning and somewhat make up for the mis-steps. and ultimately, the later seasons of the show really do understand the heart of Star Trek.

6. Strange New Worlds: going back to an episodic style for the next live action show after the mixed reviews of Picard & Discovery was definitely a good choice. the writing is much tighter, the characters generally feel more whole, and there's more to grab onto compared to entirely serialized shows. and after a lot of the darkness in Discovery and Picard, it feels like a breath of fresh air to have a show that feels joyful & fun. however. so much of SNW is built off of pre-existing Star Trek (mainly TOS) that it struggles to form its own identity and when it tries to be a new show, it gets caught in the trap of betraying existing continuity. the episodes focusing on La'an, Uhura, M'Benga, & Una are great – some of the best of new trek – but episodes focusing on Spock, Chapel, and Pike end up feeling... off with messy writing and being Kinda Weird about disability/genetics. since it's only had two seasons, i definitely think SNW could ascend or descend in the rankings in the upcoming season(s).

5. The Next Generation: TNG wasn't quite as hard for me to rank as TOS but it sometimes struggles with a similar problem that its legacy in pop culture sometimes overshadows the show itself. it's also tricky because when TNG is good, it's phenomenal; when it's bad, it's really bad; but most episodes land somewhere in the middle. s1 is borderline unwatchable, s2 is just a step above, and from there it gets a lot stronger after behind the scene problems were worked out & it found a stable writing staff. it ends up striking a good balance of stories between straightforward science mysteries, deep explorations of philosophy, space politics, and fun romps. it ends up getting dragged down more than a little by Roddenberry's lingering insistence to have the characters avoid long term conflict and the very episodic style resulting in less ongoing story arcs. characters like Geordi, Wes, Beverly, & Troi also end up feeling somewhat underdeveloped in comparison to characters like Picard & Data.

4. Voyager: this is probably one of my more controversial picks (judging by how others tend to rank the series) and maybe i'm biased but i do genuinely believe that Voyager deserves its place this high on the list. Voyager is an inconsistent show which certainly pulls it down a little but manages to strike a better balance in episode quality and is able to have more dynamic characters & more ongoing narratives than TNG. Voyager still has its share of bad episodes and gets off to a somewhat shaky start (particularly struggling in early s2) but finds its groove more easily because of the experienced writing team that already had years of Star Trek under their belt & an excellent cast. Voyager's biggest stumbles are definitely in regards to under-serving some of the characters (especially Chakotay, Tuvok, and Harry) in later seasons.

3. Deep Space Nine: a somewhat obvious pick for top three Trek shows. DS9 has deservedly been getting its praises in recent years for its darker narratives, its bold approach to some of TV's first serialized stories, its exploration of politics & religion, and the masterful way it can bounce between nuanced episodes on serious topics & fun comedy. it flails a little bit in the first two seasons while finding its voice but compared to some of the other shows, it starts off strong and the quality is generally consistent with seasons 4 & 6 being the obvious highlight. however despite the strength of the characters, actors, and writing, there are certainly times when the show fumbles: episodes that get a bit too dark to bounce back from (and aren't followed up on), stories that present some troubling ethics without much pushback, and its fair share of the mediocre scifi mystery episodes seeded throughout 90s Trek.

2. Lower Decks: based on its first season, Lower Decks is a fun but non-serious entry into the Trek pantheon. so it was surprising when what seemed at first glance like a typical irreverent adult animation show, developed so much genuine heart for both the the Lower Decks characters & the wider Trek franchise. Lower Decks could have been an excuse to string together a bunch of fan-servicey references but it becomes genuinely heartfelt with great new characters, fun worldbuilding, actual insightful commentary on existing Trek, and the ability to laugh at itself while still being made with love. while the first two seasons drag it down a little bit (i think they went in too hard with the raunchy comedy vibes), season 3 and especially season 4 are really great especially with the exploration of Mariner's PTSD that strengthens her into one of the best character in Trek.

1. Prodigy: plenty of people have been singing Prodigy's praises since its untimely cancellation and no joke – it is, in my opinion, the best Star Trek show. it is more of a kids oriented show than the other entries on this list (except TAS) but that doesn't mean it lets up on having complex plots & characters. it might be the only Star Trek show that i genuinely believe doesn't have a bad episode (albeit a couple in s1 that are just okay) and s2 as whole is a masterpiece. the only things that let it down in my opinion are: somewhat clunky animation on close-ups (though the background animation is gorgeous) and the plot getting so over complicated by s2 that i had to draw a diagram to keep track of the time travel (and this is coming from someone who loves over complicated time travel stories.)

My Personal Favorite Star Trek Shows:

11. The Animated Series: as i said before – it's fun, i'm glad it exists, it doesn't really offend me, but with the exception of the episode Yesteryear, it doesn't really do anything for me.

10. The Original Series: yeah... i'm sorry. i just don't click with TOS that much (or TOS era in general as you can tell from the rest of this list). i can recognize its importance and there are definitely some episodes i really enjoyed (either for the camp factor or because they're genuinely good) but the majority of the episodes i either don't have much of an opinion on or i think are genuinely bad (in a not fun way). i'm also fine with looking past some of the bigotries of the time but even so the misogyny & racism in the show was just too much for me. sorry.

9. Strange New Worlds: i enjoy SNW for the most part but it's definitely dragged down because 1) i strongly dislike how Spock is written, 2) while i definitely like episodic Trek more, the short episode order does make the episodes i dislike stand out a lot more, 3) a lot of the show is built on nostalgia-bait for TOS era which... i just don't really have. there are great episodes but as a whole, i'm just not attached to it.

8. Discovery: i really disliked the first two seasons of Discovery when i first watched them and though they've grown on me, it's just too dark for me to really get into. seasons 3-5 i like a lot more and i appreciate how earnest & hopeful it is (especially compared to seasons 1 & 2) but the writing can be a bit heavy handed. and as much as i do really love Michael, i definitely prefer shows with a stronger focus on the ensemble as a whole. that said, i am definitely attached to the characters and really love the 32nd century worldbuilding that's done.

7. Enterprise: i'm honestly a bit surprised that i ended up liking Enterprise this much but the fourth season (with the exception of the finale that definitely doesn't exist) is banger after banger. and while the episodes of earlier seasons might be a bit uninspired, the general worldbuilding is genuinely interesting to me with the exploration of Vulcan politics, the Vulcan-Andorian War, the Temporal Cold War, the pre-Federation politics of Earth, and more. i'm also greatly endeared to all the secondary characters (Hoshi & Phlox particularly) which means it's also a shame that the non-Archer, Trip, & T'Pol characters get so little screentime. and while so much of the first two seasons is kinda bleh, the B plots & runners to those episodes end up being really fun and ends up creating a world & characters that feels worth exploring.

6. Prodigy: i think with time (and a possible third season...) Prodigy could become one of my favorite Treks and as i already said – it's very very good. the core cast of characters is really strong with all of them (except for maybe Murf & Jankom Pog) being well developed and compelling. the plot is interesting and feels relatively unique while still feeling like Star Trek at its core. it's also the rare example of a series that has a lot of fan-service while still retaining its identity and the strength of its own characters. ultimately, it ends up ranking lower on here than my more objective tier list because some of the angst & darkness i enjoy in stories doesn't quite deliver (which is very much not a fault of the show since it is a family show), the way Janeway is written doesn't always quite line up with my own view of the character (again, not a fault of the show), and the fact that i just haven't spent as much time with the show & characters yet.

5. The Next Generation: TNG is very much a comfort show to me. i don't have all that much to add from my objective review (there are very bad episodes, very good episodes, but most are somewhere in the middle). i really like all the characters and the behind the scenes friendships really translate well to the screen but none of them really compel me the way characters do further up on this list. i do give the show a lot of credit though for continuing the worldbuilding established in TOS and taking it in a new direction and a new vibes (rather than continuing the space western format) that is hugely influential to all of the shows that came after it.

4. Lower Decks: pretty much the same as my objective review – it's a fun show that ends up finding a good balance of humor, strong characters, and pointed commentary at past Trek shows. it's a show obviously filled with a lot of love for the franchise and i'm very glad it exists. aside from Mariner, i'm not quite as attached to the other characters but i do love them all.

3. Deep Space Nine: as i said before, DS9 is undoubtedly one of the strongest shows in Star Trek. it has the most recurring characters, pretty much all of which i find compelling, and a fantastic cast of regulars as well. the overall plot of the show is incredibly strong and allows it to have a lot of good commentary on imperialism, war, religion, race, and more. it has my two favorite episodes in all of Star Trek (The Visitor and Far Beyond the Stars) and so many other bangers as well. it's the show that first hooked me into Star Trek & the Star Trek fandom and it really is fantastic. the reason it doesn't rank higher here is entirely subjective in that i just don't feel as compelled to explore the characters & fandom as the last two shows on this list. other people have talked about how shows that are too objectively good aren't necessarily the best for fandom and that's how i kind of feel about DS9. it's great. i love it. i'm not necessarily compelled to feel like i have to add to it.

2. Picard: i can recognize that in many ways Picard kinda fails as a show (for reasons i've already stated) but that absolutely does not stop me from loving it. it's extremely messy and i've wanted to fix it ever since i saw it. it might be an unpopular opinion but the worldbuilding developments in s1 (the destruction of Romulus, the synth ban, the general darkness of the Federation) are incredibly compelling to me and i really do like deconstructing Picard as a character (even if i wish he was in the show a little less). and despite some major inconsistencies between seasons, i find the characters wonderfully rich and well written and every time i watch an episode, i feel like i want to explore them more and more. (not coincidentally, it's also the Star Trek show i've written the most fanfic for.)

1. Voyager: Voyager has enthralled me mind, body, & soul. i've never had such a fast turn around from a show that i was meh about to one that constantly consumed my thoughts. it's undoubtedly imperfect but it's imperfect in a way that i feel compelled to want to study and fix. with the exception of maybe DS9, Voyager has the strongest cast of characters and one of the strongest premises of any show. i firmly believe that Kathryn Janeway is the best (and certainly my favorite) Captain in all of Star Trek and most of the characters rank among my favorite Trek characters of all time. even if there aren't a ton of obvious ongoing narratives, the subtle ways the characters change over the 7 years is great and leaves the door open for fandom to explore so much (which as you can tell is definitely something that draws me to a lot of shows). and while DS9 might have my favorite episode of Star Trek, Voyager ends up having more stories that rank amongst my favorites (Year of Hell, Latent Image, Endgame, Barge of the Dead, Bride of Chaotica, Riddles, Survival Instinct, Timeless, etc).

anyways.... that sums that up. i'll probably type up my list of favorite episodes sometime in the next few days because i need to milk the "i watched all of Star Trek" thing for a little bit.

#i wrote most of this while having a migraine so sorry if there are typos or anything #i think if i posted this review on any other website i might actually be hunted down for sport #my posts #my reviews

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